UNIVERSITY OF 
 AT LOS 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 C N . Howard 

 
 JOHN B. GOUGH 
 
 The Apostle of Cold JVater 
 
 BY 
 CARLOS MARTYN 
 
 Editor of "American Reformers" and Author of 
 ' ' Wendell Phillips; the Agitator" etc. , etc. 
 
 PRINTED IN THE L'NITED STATES. 
 
 Neto orft 
 
 FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY 
 LONDON AND TORONTO 
 1893 
 
 ALL BIGHTS RESERVED.
 
 Copyright, 1893. by the 
 
 FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY. 
 
 [Registered at Stationers' Hall, London, England.]
 
 HV 
 
 So 
 Mite, 
 
 dDercefces fferrer 
 
 JSooft, 
 
 BncourageD bg ber Counsels, 
 an> pruned bg ber Criticisms, 
 
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 and (Bratefullg 
 Dedicated.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PACK. 
 
 PREFACE .... . xi-xiv 
 
 PART I. 
 
 SANDGATE BY THE SEA. 
 
 I. Beside the Cradle 17-20 
 
 II. Early Scenes and Incidents 21-29 
 
 PART II. 
 
 THE EMIGRANT. 
 
 I. Departure from Home 33~37 
 
 II. The Farmer's Boy 38-42 
 
 III. The Young Bookbinder 43-46 
 
 IV. The Pauper Funeral 47-52
 
 VU1 CONTENTS. 
 
 PART III. 
 
 THE INFERNO. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 I. Adrift 55-57 
 
 II. On the Stage 58-63 
 
 III. The Adventures of a Drunkard . . . 64-70 
 
 IV. Delirium Tremens 7 I- 76 
 
 PART IV. 
 
 RECOVERY AND RELAPSE. 
 
 I. The Kind Touch on the Shoulder . . 79-83 
 
 II. Small Beginnings of a Great Career . . 84-91 
 
 III. Tempted 92-96 
 
 PART V. 
 
 IN THE ARENA. 
 
 I. On the Platform 99-109 
 
 II. The " Doctored " Soda-Water .... 110-114 
 III. " Footprints on the Sands of Time " . . 115-135 
 
 PART VI. 
 
 THE FIRST VISIT TO GREAT BRITAIN. 
 
 I. The Debut in London 139-151 
 
 II. " How Dear to My Heart Are the Scenes 
 
 of My Childhood" 152-155 
 
 III. Here, There, and Yonder, in the British 
 
 Isles 156-165
 
 CONTENTS. IX 
 
 PART VII. 
 
 AT WORK IN AMERICA. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 I. " Westward the Course of Empire Takes 
 
 . Its Way " 169-171 
 
 II. The Tide is Out 172-176 
 
 PART VIII. 
 
 THE SECOND BRITISH TOUR. 
 
 I. The Court of Exchequer 179-185 
 
 II. Continental Glimpses 186-189 
 
 III. A Dip Into Ireland 190-194 
 
 IV. British Morals, Manners, and Men . . 195-206 
 
 PART IX. 
 
 RENEWED USEFULNESS AT HOME. 
 
 I. A Change of Base 209-217 
 
 II. Fete Day at "Hillside" 218-223 
 
 III. Footprints of Rum 224-231 
 
 PART X. 
 
 \ 
 
 THE THIRD ENGLISH VISIT. 
 
 I. After Eighteen Years 235-246 
 
 II. The Streets of London 247-258 
 
 III. A Silver Trowel ^59-261
 
 X CONTENTS. 
 
 PART XI. 
 
 THE HOARY HEAD. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 I. Old Activities in New Relationships . . 265-273 
 
 II. The Philosophy of Temperance . . . 274-291 
 
 III. Beggars, Borrowers, and Bores . . . 292-300 
 
 IV. Personal Experiences on the Platform . 301-315 
 V. What Manner of Man Was This? . . . 316-325 
 
 INDEX 327-336
 
 PRE FAC E. 
 
 THIS is an old story retold. Mr. Gough has writ- 
 ten and spoken so voluminously and charmingly of his 
 life, and his career was run so continuously under the 
 public eye that it is well nigh impossible to jot down 
 new facts. Nor is there need of it. His experiences 
 are so full of moral warning in his fall, and of moral 
 inspiration in his recovery, that they will be profit- 
 ably rehearsed for generations. All that any indi- 
 vidual- biographer can hope to do is to group the 
 ascertained facts in a new setting. In the perform- 
 ance of this task the writer has made free use of the 
 existing material, and here confesses his special in- 
 debtedness to Mr. Gough's own records. When other 
 and related topics have called for treatment, other 
 and related books have been used. 
 
 Although of English birth, we have appropriated 
 Mr. Gough as an American reformer. He was an 
 American citizen. His home was here. He voted 
 here. His public career began and ended here. And 
 his Americanism was of the most pronounced and 
 lofty type. 
 
 John B. Gough was a man of the people an in- 
 spired mechanic. He began life at the freezing 
 point of the human thermometer. At the age of 
 eighteen he fell below zero. Seven or eight years
 
 Xll PREFACE. 
 
 later he rose to summer heat, and produced the flow- 
 ers and fruits of summer. He maintained this heat 
 and fertility through forty-three years, and died at 
 sixty-nine degrees Fahrenheit. Such a life is in- 
 structive in all its phases. It carries inspiration to 
 the poor and miserable and blind and naked. 
 
 Mr. Gough's career as a reformer was based upon 
 his personal experience. In pleading with men and 
 for men he obeyed Sir Philip Sydney's recipe for 
 poetry, " Look into thine own heart, and write." His 
 utterances were realistic because * e had realized 
 them. He touched others to smiles or tears, because 
 he was familiar with the grotesqueness of the evil 
 against which he inveighed, with the maudlin laugh- 
 ter, and the delirium tremens of the drunkard. 
 
 To this fundamental knowledge of his theme he 
 joined rare powers of speech. 'Tis difficult to classify 
 him as a public speaker. He was sui generis. God 
 made him, and broke the die. He was a whole vari- 
 ety troupe in one little form. In the course of an 
 address he enacted a dozen parts, with such fidelity 
 that the last seemed the best. He told a story now 
 in the Irish brogue, now in broken German, now in 
 the Yorkshire dialect, and the hall was convulsed 
 with laughter. He made an appeal, and the people 
 were intensely stirred. His voice sank into pathos, 
 and the storm broke in a rain of tears. He turned 
 upon an interrupter, and his repartee blazed and 
 burned like a flash of powder. He had that wonder- 
 ful power which we call magnetism. He used the 
 language of the people. He spoke all over, eyes as 
 well as hands, face as well as lips, even his coat-tails. 
 And his earnestness made him the unconscious hero
 
 PREFACE. Xii'l 
 
 of his own cause. Mr. Gough__orLJ-h_^latform was 
 an histrionicexhibition of a superlative type. 
 
 His voice was not particularly sweet, but it pos- 
 sessed incredible power, and ran the gamut of thought 
 and feeling, 
 
 " From grave to gay, from lively to severe." 
 
 In listening to him one recalled Bulwer's description 
 of O'Connell's voice: 
 
 " Beneath his feet the human ocean lay 
 And wave on wave rolled into space away. 
 Methought no clarion could have sent its sound 
 Even 'to the center of the hosts around ; 
 And, as I thought, rose the sonorous swell, 
 As from some church-tower swings the silvery bell. 
 Aloft and clear, from airy tide to tide 
 It glided, easy as a bird may glide. 
 Even to the verge of that vast audience sent, 
 It played with each wild passion as it went: 
 Now stirred the uproar, now the murmur stilled. 
 And sobs and laughter answered as it willed." 
 
 Is it any wonder, after all, that such a man, thus 
 variously gifted, and with something to say worth 
 hearing, should have held audiences breathless on 
 both sides of the Atlantic for nearly half a century, 
 with no diminution of his power whether to draw or 
 to inspire ? 
 
 But Mr. Gough had other strengths besides his 
 gifts. " There is no eloquence," said Emerson, " with- 
 out a man behind it." He put an honest character 
 behind his words. You believed in the man. It was 
 not a mere exhibition that he gave. In the midst of 
 his wildest utterances he maintained his balance. A
 
 XIV PREFACE. 
 
 robust common sense was always dominant^- And 
 there was a highmoral purpose thaTcfignTned his very 
 mimicry. 
 
 As a tempejaa^c IcadfetL^lj^Gough has not been 
 and will not be outgrown. He grasped the reform he 
 advocated as Atlas did the globe. And he put it upon 
 the indestructible basis^ofinoral suasion, personal 
 piety, and prohibitive law. 
 
 Have we gotten, can we get, beyond his ideal ? 
 
 Two women were this reformer's guardian angels. 
 First, his mother ; when he lost her he lost himself. 
 Next, Mary Gough ; when he found her he found 
 himself. 
 
 'Tis the purpose of the following pages to show how 
 God made him; how drink unmade him; and how 
 sobriety and a moral motive remade him. 
 
 CARLOS MARTYN. 
 CHICAGO, 1893.
 
 PART I. 
 
 Sandgate by the Sea 
 
 The influences that go into us in boyhood 
 fashion the experiences that we go into in 
 manhood. 
 
 CARLOS MARTYN.
 
 I. 
 
 BESIDE THE CRADLE. 
 
 JANE GOUGH presented her husband John with a 
 bouncing boy on the 226. of August, in the year of 
 our Lord, 1817. In the hour of birth the mother 
 cried, and the babe cried; the first, in pain, the second, 
 to start his lungs (so the doctors said), ever after 
 in good working order. In the death-hour, nearly 
 seventy years later, these early weepers were hushed, 
 and the world did the crying. Birth death ! and 
 between the two the unconsciousness of infancy, the 
 carelessness of boyhood, the recklessness of youth, 
 the sunlight and shadow of manhood in one word, 
 life ! 
 
 These parents lived at Sandgate, in the county of 
 Kent, England. The father was a common soldier, 
 who had served through the Napoleonic wars, first in 
 the Fortieth and then in the Fifty-second Regiments 
 of Light Infantry. He entered the King's service in 
 1798, and was discharged in 1823, with a pension of 
 twenty pounds a year, and a medal with six clasps, 
 commemorative of his bravery at Corunna, Talavera, 
 Salamanca, Badajos, Pombal, and Busaco, in the 
 Peninsula War. Unfortunately, being a soldier, he 
 was unfitted for any other calling, and after his dis- 
 charge, he found it hard to secure employment. 
 e
 
 l8 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 That medal was good to look at, but it was harder 
 than " hard tack " to bite. And $100 (the value of 
 the pension) was a small sum with which to bridge 
 the chasm of food and clothes and shelter for a twelve- 
 month. 
 
 Happily, the mother was a breadwinner, too, in a 
 small way. For twenty years she taught the village 
 school. The length of her service shows that she 
 did it well. Mrs. Gougli was well educated, con- 
 sidering her position in life, had a kind heart, pos- 
 sessed a gentle, affectionate disposition, and was 
 withal an excellent disciplinarian. She won the 
 hearts and commanded the wills of her pupils and of 
 her children. 
 
 John and Jane Gough were a devout couple; he a 
 Methodist, she a Baptist ; though in the absence of a 
 church of her own denomination in Sandgate, she 
 habitually worshiped with her husband. She had 
 lived in London, and while there united with Surrey 
 Chapel, made famous by the ministry of Rowland 
 Hill, and kept so by that of Newman Hall. It was 
 that metropolitan experience, no doubt, which helped 
 to win her the position of schoolmistress, for one 
 who had been to "Lunnon" was stared at in those 
 days; but an attendance at Surrey Chapel must have 
 been a sorry preparation for the rude conventicle in 
 Sandgate. However it may be, she never murmured, 
 and, after the manner of her sex, put up with self- 
 denial so that it was changed to coronation. 
 
 This worthy couple decided to name their babe 
 after the father, John. In order to avoid a junior, 
 Bartholomew was added. So John B. started with 
 an honest name and a stout pair of lungs. Until
 
 BESIDE THE CRADLE. 19 
 
 seven years of age, his mother taught him at home. 
 Then he trudged off to the neighboring and larger 
 town of Folkestone, a mile and a half away, to a 
 "seminary," where presently he became a teacher 
 himself, if you please (this child), and, as he says, 
 "initiated two classes into the mysteries of learning 
 one of them into the art of spelling words of two 
 syllables, and the other into the knowledge of the 
 Rule of Three." When ten years old he left school 
 his education finished! Or rather, he went out into 
 that greatest of schools, the world, whose teacher is 
 experience, whose text-books are hard knocks, and 
 whose terms come high. 
 
 As young Gough developed certain traits of the 
 future man began to show themselves. Earliest of 
 all, perhaps, his power of imitation. He had a sister, 
 his junior by two years, and his constant playmate. 
 She was a master-hand at dressing rag dolls. These 
 he would often borrow, seat in stiff and starched pro- 
 priety in front of a chair which he used for a pulpit, 
 and then, with Bible and hymn-book on the seat, pro- 
 ceed to exhort his dumb auditors about as effectually 
 as his clerical patterns sometimes do theirs of flesh 
 and blood! When church was out, he would imagine 
 it was Monday, and so pass to a Punch-and-Judy 
 show. Standing in a bottomless chair, appropriately 
 concealed himself, and reproducing the peculiar tones 
 and antics of Punch and Judy, he both amused him- 
 self and entertained the wandering rustics who gath- 
 ered to see and hear. Thus, as Joseph Cook 
 remarks, among his earliest playthings were a pulpit 
 and a Punch-and-Judy box. They were among his 
 last.
 
 20 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 Side by side with this mimetic gift, and as its vehi- 
 cle John exhibited rare vocal powers. Ventriloquism 
 was natural to him. He read superbly was the 
 show-reader of the town. And he earned many a 
 sixpence in that way, and in recitations in the tap- 
 room of the village. 
 
 These were innate characteristics. They implied 
 quick powers of observation, a sensitive, impression- 
 able nature, and the ability (which Gough had pre- 
 eminently) to translate feeling into exact expression.
 
 II. 
 
 EARLY SCENES AND INCIDENTS. 
 
 SANDGATE was then, as it is now, a watering-place. 
 People who desired to get away from " the madding 
 crowd," or who wished to inhale the tonic salt breezes, 
 or to sport in the breakers, but whose tastes were 
 quiet, or whose purses were slender, found there what 
 they wanted. The houses were strung along a single 
 street, back of which were hills which were gemmed 
 here, there, and yonder, with more pretentious man- 
 sions and grounds of the gentry. 
 
 It was an historic neighborhood. Here stood the 
 Castle of Sandgate, built by Henry VIII. in 1539, 
 which had been honored by the presence of Queen 
 Elizabeth half a century later. Near by were a dozen 
 other castles, half ruinous, each with its legend. And 
 not far away were Dover, with its cliffs, and Canter- 
 bury, with its magnificent cathedral, and Folkestone, 
 in whose High street stood the house where Harvey 
 (who discovered the circulation of the blood) was 
 born ; while away there across the straits loomed 
 France, in plain sight on a fair day. Jane Gough 
 before her marriage came hither to teach school. 
 John Gough was stationed near by with his regi- 
 ment. Here, therefore, they met, married, and set- 
 tled. It was a happy selection of a residence for
 
 22 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 young John. He reveled in the diversified scenery 
 and associations of the place, and found 
 
 "... tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, 
 Sermons in stones, and good in everything." 
 
 He haunted the Castle of Sandgate, whose keeper 
 became his close friend. Speaking of it long after- 
 wards, he says: "As I acquired some knowledge of 
 Bluff King Hal, I would wander through the court- 
 yards, the turrets, and the battlements, and build 
 castles in the air, and, in fancy, people the place with 
 its old inhabitants, and see plumed cavaliers and 
 ruffled dames pacing the corridors, or surrounding 
 the groaning board. Katherine of Aragon, Anne 
 Boleyn, Katherine Seymour, and others, flitted before 
 me; and, living in the past, almost unconsciously my 
 imagination was cultured and my mind imbued with 
 a love of history and poetry." ' 
 
 The beach was another favorite haunt. The recep- 
 tive and dreaming boy roamed up and down the 
 sands, or sat in physical idleness but busy thought, 
 watching the white-winged ships, listening to the 
 moan of the sea which, like himself, was subject to 
 ever-changing moods. Once he saw an East-India- 
 man wrecked on the shore before his very eyes, heard 
 the shrieks of the passengers, seven hundred in num- 
 ber, and gazed with horror upon their dead forms, 
 rising, falling, rising again, on the white crests of the 
 cruel waves, and finally washed up on the sands a 
 
 1 "Autobiography and Personal Recollections of John B. 
 Gough," 1871, pp. 20, 21.
 
 EARLY SCENES AND INCIDENTS. 23 
 
 sight which gave him nightmare-visions for weeks 
 and months. 
 
 The people of Sandgate were fishermen and 
 smugglers. The duties on silks, laces, teas, etc., were 
 so high, the coast of France was so near, the passage 
 across was so easy, the fishing boats were so conve- 
 nient, the margin of profit attendant upon landing 
 dutiable articles surreptitiously was so large, the love 
 of adventure among these amphibious folk was so 
 strong, the nights were so often temptingly dark, 
 that virtue yielded to such manifold temptation. The 
 beach was patrolled day and night by men-of-war's- 
 men, armed to the teeth, to prevent smuggling. 
 Many were the struggles between these guards and 
 the Sandgaters, with various results; although for 
 the most part the smugglers, aided and abetted by 
 the whole population, got the best of it. But the 
 snap of gun-locks, the whiz of bullets, the hurrying of 
 feet, and sometimes the presence of death as the 
 result of these skirmishes, were common sights and 
 sounds in those days. On a certain occasion, young 
 Gough went with a comrade up an adjacent hill to 
 kindle a beacon-light as a signal to some smugglers 
 in the offing to run in their goods. The boys then 
 ran in themselves Gough into the arms of his angry 
 father, whose hard-earned pension he had imperiled 
 by his escapade, and who, therefore, soundly boxed 
 his ears. 
 
 The boy delighted in playing soldier with his father 
 as captain. The elder Gough was nothing loath, 
 and, with a broom for a gun, would drill the boy by 
 the hour, and then end the lesson by telling stories 
 of his campaigns. " Here," he would say, " was such
 
 24 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 a regiment; there such a battalion; in this situation 
 was the enemy; and yonder was the position of the 
 General with his staff." The boy listened, as boys 
 will listen to such tales, and seemed to feel the excite- 
 ment of the battlefield thrilling along his nerves, to 
 smell the smoke of war, and to swell with the pride 
 of victory. Thus he became at a tender age a veteran 
 by brevet. 'Tis surprising that the rampant militar- 
 ism of his surroundings those outlying castles, the 
 constant recurrence of the petty conflicts between the 
 men-of-war's-men and the smugglers, and the object- 
 lessons of his father, who " showed how fields were 
 won," did not impel young Gough to become a sol- 
 dier. Probably nothing saved him but the feminine 
 delicacy of his temperament, his dread of physical 
 pain, and his early withdrawal from the scene. A 
 soldier he did become, after all, though of a grander 
 type a moral hero, whose campaigns were as real 
 as they were bloodless, and whose peaceful victories 
 were " no less renowned than war." 
 
 John was a fun-lover and a fun-maker from the 
 start. Some of his practical jokes, however, brought 
 him into trouble, one in particular, which he shall 
 relate: "A dapper little man, a tailor by profession, 
 attended the Methodist chapel, where my father wor- 
 shiped; and his seat was directly in front of ours. 
 He was a bit of a dandy, a little conceited, and rather 
 proud of his personal appearance, but was a sad 
 stammerer. He had what was called a ' scratch wig ' 
 a small affair that just covered the top of his head. 
 One unlucky Sunday for me, as I was sitting in the 
 chapel, with his head and wig right before me, I 
 began playing with a pin, and having bent it to the
 
 EARLY SCENES AND INCIDENTS. 25 
 
 form of a hook, found in my pocket a piece of string, 
 tied it around the head of the pin, and began to fish, 
 with no thought of any particular mischief, and doing 
 what boys often do in church when they are not in- 
 terested in or do not understand the service. So, 
 with one eye on my father, who sat by me intently 
 listening to the discourse, and one eye alternately on 
 the minister and my fishing-line, I continued to drop 
 my hook, and haul it up again very quietly when, 
 becoming tired of fishing, I gathered up the line, and 
 resting the pin on my thumb, gave it a snap; up it 
 went; I snapped it again and again very carefully, till 
 one unfortunate snap sent the pin on Billy Bennett's 
 head; it slid off. Then the feat was to see how often 
 I could snap it on his head without detection. After 
 several successful performances of this feat I snapped 
 it a little too hard, and it rested on the ' scratch wig ' 
 too far forward to fall off. So I must needs pull the 
 string, and as my ill fortune would have it, the pin 
 would not come; I drew it harder and harder, very 
 cautiously, till it was tight. The pin caught some- 
 where. Now, I knew if detected I should be severely 
 punished. The temptation was so strong to pull off 
 that wig that it seemed to me I must do it, my fingers 
 itched; I began to tremble with excitement, I looked 
 at my father. He saw nothing. All were attentively 
 listening to the preacher. I must do it; so, looking 
 straight at the minister, I gave one sharp, sudden jerk 
 off came the wig. I let go of the string; poor Billy 
 sprang from his seat, and, clasping both hands to his 
 head, cried, ' Goo Goo Good Lord! ' to the aston- 
 ishment of the congregation. But there in our pew 
 lay the wig, with pin and string attached, as positive
 
 26 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 evidence against me. One look at my father's face 
 convinced me that 'I had done it' and should 'catch 
 it'; and 'catch it' I did. My father waited until 
 Monday, and in the morning conducted me to Billy 
 Bennett's and made me beg his pardon very humbly. 
 Billy was good-natured, and actually tried to beg me 
 off; but my father declared he would ' dust my jacket 
 for me.' And he did; or at any rate would have 
 dusted it most thoroughly, but he made me take it 
 off so that the jacket was none the better for the 
 'dusting,' though my shoulders and back suffered 
 some, and it served me right." l This passage in 
 John's life, like many another, illustrates the saying 
 of the French philosopher, that " opportunity is the 
 cleverest devil." 
 
 Occasionally the boy was sent to mill with a bag 
 of grain red-letter days these were. The horse of a 
 neighbor was borrowed for the nonce, a blind, lame, 
 raw-boned animal. Mounting this Bucephalus, he 
 would make the circuit of the village, win the admira- 
 tion of the envious boys, then amble off to the mill, 
 and, on returning, be laid up a couple of days to re- 
 cover from the lameness caused by the joint action of 
 the beast's case-knife backbone and cobble-stone trot. 
 
 On returning from school in Folkestone one day, 
 Gough received his death-blow, actually. He was 
 playing stage-coach, and pretending to drive four 
 spirited horses in the presence of four even more 
 spirited boys. "Get up! go long!" and away they 
 went, pell-mell. Just then the team and driver 
 passed a laborer who was in the act of throwing up a 
 
 1 " Autobiography and Personal RecolU ctions," pp. 38-40.
 
 EARLY SCENES AND INCIDENTS. 2"J 
 
 spadeful of clay from a trench beside the road ; the 
 sharp edge buried itself in the side of John's head. 
 He fell, bathed in blood; remained unconscious for 
 days, and was expected to die, or, if he lived, to lose 
 his reason. Sad, anxious days they were in the cot- 
 tage of John and Jane Gough. The boy was spared; 
 but he never got over that blow. Fifty years after- 
 wards he said: "To this day I feel the effects of it. 
 When excited in speaking, I am frequently compelled 
 to press my hands on my head to ease the pricking 
 and darting sensation I experience." Eventually that 
 same " pricking and darting sensation " struck him 
 dead. 
 
 Among the formative influences of Gough's child- 
 hood we must certainly mention the annual fair, held 
 towards the end of July, on the village green, directly 
 opposite his home. The gaudy booths, the flaring- 
 painted canvas, the gaping crowd John himself 
 among the gapers, we may be sure the scene made 
 an indelible impression upon the young mimic; and 
 some of the characters he portrayed so graphically in 
 after life he saw and absorbed in front of his own 
 door-sill. He describes the sights and sounds the 
 mermaid, the pig-faced lady, and spotted boy from 
 Bottlenose Bay, in the West Indies, the calf with two 
 heads; the "ambiguous " cow that can't live on land, 
 and dies in the water; the greatest saw you ever saw 
 saw in all the days you ever saw; the swings, the 
 merry-go-rounds, the climbing of the greased-pole, 
 the donkey races (the slowest donkey to win, and no 
 man rides his own donkey); the clowns, the harle- 
 quins, the pantaloons, the columbines, the whole 
 being spiced with the music of drums, fifes, penny-
 
 28 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 whistles, cat-calls, hurdy - gurdys, bagpipes the 
 dread of mothers and paradise of children. 1 
 
 But events like these were only the dessert in the 
 dinner of life; the chief part of the meal was com- 
 posed of much less dainty and appetizing morsels, 
 according to a boy's conception. John had his 
 studies, his chores, his duties, in a word, which, like 
 Banquets ghost, would not " down " at his bidding. 
 His temperamental tendency to day-dreaming, when 
 he was not engaged in mischief, was measurably held 
 in check by the prosaic demands made on his time 
 and attention by school and work. The narrow 
 means at home drove him early to help eke out the 
 family resources. His main recourse for this purpose 
 was Purday's library the news center of the village. 
 Here he made many a sixpence as an errand-boy, and, 
 perhaps, quite as often as a show-reader. One day 
 he earned five shillings and sixpence in this way. 
 Rushing home with it to show his mother, he found 
 her in tears. The larder was empty, the husband and 
 father was absent seeking employment; the poor soul 
 had walked that day to Dover and back (eight and a 
 half miles each way), striving in vain to sell some 
 lace, the work of her own deft hands, and now it was 
 night there she sat, tired out and hysterical. 
 
 The eager boy made over his small fortune to his 
 mother gladly, although this disposition of it spoiled 
 his " Arabian Nights' " visions of a millionaire's posi- 
 tion and expenditures, and, kneeling down with her, 
 thanked God for the timely provision. Then Mrs 
 Gough gave her son half a penny for himself. With 
 
 1 " Autobiography," pp. 43-44.
 
 EARLY SCENES AND INCIDENTS. 29 
 
 this he hurried across the street to the store of Mrs. 
 Reynolds, and cried: "Now, Mrs. Reynolds, I want 
 a farden's worth of crups (a kind of cake) and a 
 farden back." The experiences of that memorable 
 day, his half-crown piece, his willing gift of it to his 
 mother, his contented exchange of it for the half- 
 penny, and Mrs. Reynolds's "farden's worth of 
 crups," with the " farden back," were stamped indeli- 
 bly upon Mr. Gough's memory. He often told the 
 story, and has given it a permanent record in his 
 book of personal recollections. 
 
 One summer, the celebrated and excellent William 
 Wilberforce, who had made the emancipation of 
 the slaves in the West Indies his life work, and who, 
 as Lord Brougham said, " went to heaven with eight 
 hundred thousand broken fetters in his hands," came 
 down to Sandgate for an outing. The elder Gough 
 took his son to a prayer-meeting held at the lodgings 
 of the distinguished visitor. After the meeting, John 
 was called upon to read something, which he did, 
 winning the approbation of Wilberforce, who gave his 
 praise tangible expression in the shape of a book, 
 which he inscribed, and his blessing, which he laid 
 upon the lad's bowed head. The book Gough lost. 
 The blessing he kept.
 
 PART II. 
 
 The Emigrant 
 
 " Farewell. 
 
 For in that word that fatal word howe'er 
 We promise hope believe, there breathes 
 despair." 
 
 BYRON, The Corsair, Canto I.
 
 I. 
 
 THE DEPARTURE FROM HOME. 
 
 POVERTY is only less cruel than sin. It was now 
 about to force a boy of twelve away from his father's 
 house and his mother's arms across the sea. For those 
 situated as the Goughs were life was hard at best. The 
 present held no comfort, the future no hope. Daily 
 bread was a daily battle. Happily, this world-old and 
 world-wide struggle teaches self-reliance, promotes 
 diligence, necessitates economy, stirs enterprise, and 
 is intended to build character. This is the real ex- 
 planation of its existence in the order of divine 
 Providence. Most of the strong-featured characters 
 that have marked their own age and molded succeed- 
 ing time have been disciplined in this stern school. 
 " I thank God," said Edmund Burke, " that I was not 
 coddled and dandled into being a legislator." Lincoln 
 floated into the White House on a Mississippi flat- 
 boat. And the heather is in the poems of Burns, 
 because it was under his eyes while he held the plow 
 in Ayrshire. But, however sweet the flower, the bud 
 has a bitter taste. 
 
 John Gough, Senior, had his pension. This was 
 the raft under his feet afloat, though always wet. 
 John Gough, Junior, had nothing. He could aspire 
 3
 
 34 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 to nothing higher than the position of a gentleman's 
 servant. Even a trade was beyond his reach, for that 
 could be learned only by the payment of a premium. 
 Many and anxious were the conversations between 
 his father and mother regarding this matter. It all 
 ended in an act of self-immolation on Jane Gough's 
 part. Her boy was her life. She loved him so utterly 
 that she consented to send him away to America 
 with a family of neighbors who were about to immi- 
 grate, and who ageeed, in consideration of ten 
 guineas of the King's money, to teach him a trade 
 and give him a home until he. should come of age. 
 She consented to "This not without an agonizing 
 struggle with herself. But her son's welfare seemed 
 to demand the sacrifice. A useful and honest life 
 was promised beyond the Atlantic. The fact that 
 her judgment and conscience conquered her heart is 
 further proof of the strength and excellence of her 
 character. A good mother is a true saint. 
 
 John thought it was a lark the realization, alas, 
 came later, and made a lifelong tumult in his breast. 
 
 On the 4th of June, then, in 1829, behold him as he 
 mounts the night-coach with his new guardians pre- 
 paratory to setting out for London, whence the party 
 expected to sail. The four shining horses paw the 
 ground impatiently. The guard in scarlet livery lifts 
 the bugle to his lips. The ostlers drop the bridles. 
 The driver cracks his whip. They are off ! Presently, 
 as they reach the bathing-houses on the sands half a 
 mile away, John sees a crouching figure behind the 
 hedge and recognizes his mother, who had hurried 
 thither while the coach was being loaded in order to 
 catch one last sight of the hope of her life. She had
 
 THE DEPARTURE FROM HOME. 35 
 
 strained him to her heart, held him off at arm's 
 length, and then clasped him again, times without 
 number, ere he left the house. Now she caressed 
 him with her eyes ! 
 
 It was a night ride up to " Lunnon," this of which 
 we speak. In the excitement of the journey, the boy 
 soon forgot (forgot only to remember for ever) that 
 heartbroken mother weeping beside the road. He 
 had been on a mail-coach once before when eight 
 years old, and had gone with a schoolmate, whose 
 father was the driver, as far as Maidstone, half way to 
 the metropolis. But that was four years ago a cen- 
 tury to a boy ; and now London was the destination ! 
 How fast the horses went ! How their hoofs rang 
 out on the hard road ! How proud John felt, perched 
 up there on the top of the lumbering vehicle, as the 
 women ran to the windows to look, until their eyes 
 were blinded by the A ast. They made ten miles an 
 hour. The horses were changed every seven miles. 
 This was fast traveling in the year of grace 1829 
 remember that, reader, spoiled by the experience of 
 fifty miles an hour ; which, by-the-by, will, in its turn, 
 be antiquated as the stage-coach jog when the electric 
 railroads are perfected. At each relay there was a 
 tavern where driver and guard took an " 'alf-an'-'alf " 
 and others, also, both male and female. Then the 
 bugle blew, and the coach was off again. 
 
 London was reached safely the next day. With all 
 a rustic's curiosity, John gazed around him in open- 
 mouthed wonder. What crowds, what endless lines 
 of houses, what smart shops! Stop, here is a candy- 
 shop. Where are those pennies? They were not 
 plenty in his pocket in those days. All the free sights
 
 36 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 he took in during the tarry of four or five days in 
 town. For the rest he was like the Peri in " Lalla 
 Rookh," at the gate of Paradise outside ! 
 
 On the loth of June they sailed in the good ship 
 Helen. Off Sandgate the ship was becalmed a joyful 
 occurrence for the boy, already homesick, for his father 
 came out in the afternoon ; and in the evening his 
 mother and sister, spending more than they could 
 afford in boat hire. These two had been absent from 
 home in the afternoon and did not know of the Helen's 
 presence in the offing until night fell. There was 
 another sad leave-taking. As his loved ones dropped 
 down the ship's side and floated away in the darkness 
 John's heart sank. With a lump in his throat and 
 tears in his eyes, he " turned in " and cried himself to 
 sleep. The poor mother, we may be sure, did not 
 sleep at all. During the night a breeze sprang up, 
 and in the morning Sandgate was miles and miles 
 astern. 
 
 The strange experiences of the voyage filled the 
 time and held the attention of the young emigrant, 
 who proved to be an excellent sailor, and who, with 
 the happy facility of boyhood, found in change and 
 novelty an antidote for sorrow. The scrubbing of 
 the deck, the shifting of the sails, the " yo hoy " of 
 the seamen, the phosphorescent trail of the vessel, the 
 flapping wings of the sea-gulls flying about the rig- 
 ging and around the hull, the appearance of an 
 occasional porpoise tumbling and rolling in the waves 
 were an endless source of amusement to this quick 
 and sharp observer. 
 
 He left many friends behind him in Sandgate. He 
 soon made many new ones on shipboard, and became
 
 THE DEPARTURE FROM HOME. 37 
 
 a general favorite. One of these sadly reduced his 
 small capital. " I had," he tells us, " like other cap- 
 italists, negotiated a loan with the black cook, to 
 whom I advanced an English crown ; the principal 
 and interest remain unpaid ; not an uncommon 
 occurrence, I have been told since, in regard to foreign 
 loans." 
 
 In the gray dawn of August 3d land was sighted ; 
 and soon everybody was on deck all but poor John, 
 who was kept busy below blacking the shoes of his 
 master's family preparatory to landing, much to his 
 disappointment, while the delighted comments of the 
 company on deck, as the Helen sailed up the lovely 
 bay, sounded in his ear. Thus he learned that he 
 was no longer a petted boy at home, and that life 
 meant disappointment. 
 
 The people to whom he had been intrusted went 
 ashore that afternoon. He remained on board the 
 ship until the next day, when he, too, waved a good- 
 bye to the friendly seamen and that insinuating cook, 
 and set foot for the first time upon the soil of 
 America.
 
 II. 
 
 THE FARMER'S BOY. 
 
 GOUGH'S "master," to use the English term, re- 
 mained in New York City two months, which were 
 devoted by him to " prospecting," and by the lad to 
 sightseeing, as opportunity offered. They then went 
 to Utica, in New York State, where the Englishman 
 bought a farm of about one hundred and fifty acres, 
 which lay a few miles out of town, and whither the 
 family removed. 
 
 The journey up the Hudson river by steamboat to 
 Albany, the diversified scenery, the jaunt on the 
 canal-boat to Utica, and the wagon ride thence to 
 the farm, were all noted by the young traveler. His 
 new home was on the frontier. For in 1829, the 
 western march of civilization had scarcely reached 
 central New York. There were settlements beyond 
 that point, but they were few and far between. Hence 
 life on the Oneida farm was like life in the Indian 
 Territory to-day. Hard work, and plenty of it, was 
 necessary in order to comb out the country. The 
 boy from Sandgate became a drudge, " gee-hawing " 
 the oxen, caring for the stock, hauling wood, driving 
 the plow, running on errands, and enacting the rdle 
 of Jack-general-utility. 
 
 He did not like the American weather. One day it
 
 THE FARMER'S BOY. 39 
 
 was so warm that he worked in his shirt sleeves. The 
 next there was a heavy fall of snow. Such sudden 
 changes dazed him as they have many others before 
 and since. Indeed, our climate resembles Pope's 
 description of Villiers, the Duke of Buckingham, 
 "everything by starts, and nothing long." As the 
 winter deepened, Gough's clothing proved insufficient. 
 No matter, when he felt cold he warmed himself by 
 extra exertions. When he came to explore his chest 
 he found fresh evidences of his mother's love and 
 care. She had pinned on almost every article a bit 
 of paper containing some text of Scripture, written in 
 her own dear penmanship. His Bible, too, was 
 marked throughout, the second, third, fourth, and 
 fifth chapters of Proverbs being especially over and 
 under scored. 
 
 As soon as the rough duties of his new life would 
 permit, he wrote to his mother a long and remarkable 
 letter, full of Goughiana, minutely describing the 
 scenes and incidents of the emigration, and proving 
 unconsciously to himself that he must have improved 
 to the utmost those hours in school which abruptly 
 ended when he was ten years old. The penmanship 
 is good, the spelling immaculate, and the grammar 
 and style worthy of a collegian. The gift of expres- 
 sion was his by nature the pen spoke, less graphi- 
 cally but not less clearly than the tongue. We put 
 in evidence a few extracts from one and another of 
 his letters: 
 
 "The farm is very comfortable, and has a dwelling-house, where 
 we live, and a nice log-house. There are also a wood-house, 
 a wagon and sleigh lodge, three hog-pens, a granary, a stable,
 
 40 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 two barns, two cow-lodges but master talks of having eighteen 
 or twenty cows in the summer ; two horses, three fatting hogs, 
 seven pigs, fifty she-p, a bull, and a calf. I like driving our 
 team about. A team in this country is two horses. Our 
 wagon is not so heavy as the English one. The horses are put 
 in as you put them in a pair-horse coach." ' 
 
 Later on he writes again: 
 
 " I have enjoyed pretty good health since I have been here. 
 I have learned a great many things. I can hold the plow, and 
 thrash, and plant and hoe corn, plant potatoes, make cider, and 
 do. a great many things that I knew nothing of before. I was at 
 the harrow with the oxen, when I heard there were some letters 
 for me, and soon after Elizabeth brought a packet to me in the 
 field. But I could not work any more all day for joy. I like 
 the 'Yankees pretty well. They are open, free, and generous. 
 They much use the word 'guess.' Thus, if they meant to say, 
 ' I shall go to chapel,' they would say, ' I guess I shall go to 
 chapel.' Yesterday I went to camp-meeting, which is held once 
 a year by different societies of Methodists. It is generally held 
 in some of the woods. When we arrived at the entrance to the 
 woods where this meeting was held, we heard a confused noise, 
 but the first thing that struck our attention was a great number 
 of tents or booths, such as are used at fairs. The next was 
 the voice of prayer in every direction. About fifteen engaged 
 in prayer to God at the same time at different prayer-rings, 
 which consisted of about fifteen or sixteen men and women 
 met together, with a log to separate the males and the females." 3 
 
 Mark the accurate observation and minute descrip- 
 tion here. Plainly Gough was Gough even at the 
 age of twelve. 
 
 We subjoin one or two extracts from Mrs. Gough 's 
 
 1 "Autobiography," p. 58. " "Autobiography," p. 60.
 
 THE FARMER S BOY. 41 
 
 letters, which exhibit at once her intelligence, her 
 piety, and her motherhood : 
 
 " I wish, my dear, when you write aga>n you would let me 
 know if you have committed to memory any of the chapters I 
 mentioned to you in the letter I put among your clothes. You 
 will find them of great use to you ; more especially if you are 
 employed in the fields, where, perhaps, you will be much alone. 
 Then you will find it a pleasant and profitable employment 
 for your thoughts to be able to repeat to yourself portions of 
 the Word of God. I speak from experience, my dear. I have 
 often .passed pleasantly many an hour of hard work by repeat- 
 ing to myself passages of Scripture committed to memory, and 
 I can now remember those best that I learned before I was 
 your age. 
 
 " We long to know, my dear boy, how you got through the 
 severe winter. It was very severe here ; but I suppose you 
 will find the summer as hot as you have felt the winter cold." J 
 
 Again : 
 
 " I do assure you we all of us remember you with unabated 
 affection ; and the 9th of the month brings forcibly to my mind 
 the time when I parted from you ; and I hope, if it be the 
 Lord's will, that we shall meet again in this world, if our lives 
 are spared. You have been gone now nearly two years, and 
 the time will wear away. 
 
 " Your father was pleased that you had taken time to write 
 your last letter so well. He wishes you to practise your writ- 
 ing whenever you have opportunity ; and also your ciphering, 
 as it may be of great use to you in your future life. 
 
 " I hope, my dear boy, you are earnestly seeking after the 
 one thing needful. You know the Lord has said, ' they that 
 seek shall find.' It is, my dear boy, the earnest wish of both 
 your parents that you may in early life be devoted to the Lord ; 
 
 1 "Autobiography," pp. 55, 56.
 
 42 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 that you may be His servant serve Him and so, my dear 
 boy, keep close to your Bible." ' 
 
 Here a loving Christian mother's heart throbs in 
 every word. Admonitions like these sometimes seem 
 to be forgotten they never are. Waywardness and 
 sin may overlay them ; but, like that long-lost por- 
 trait of Christ by the old Italian painter, done on the 
 wall and covered by neglect and ignorance with 
 whitewash, which was finally discovered and restored, 
 the divine features drawn by a mother's hand in a 
 child's consciousness will eventually reappear in 
 undimmed beauty and with force unspent. 
 
 At the end of his second year on the farm, John 
 resolved, if possible, to leave it. He had two reasons 
 for this. First, he was being dwarfed into a mere 
 "hand." There was neither time nor opportunity 
 for schooling not even for Sunday-school study ; 
 and he knew and respected his parents' wishes on these 
 points. Churches were infrequent, but he did attend 
 one or another of them occasionally; and, indeed, 
 in a revival, had united with the -Methodists upon 
 probation. Second, some one had told him that in 
 New York City he could learn a trade without the pay- 
 ment of a premium the necessity in England which 
 had driven him into exile. Filial feeling led him to 
 write home for permission to make the change. 
 Postage in those days was high, and he sold his pen- 
 knife to buy the stamp. The consent came. Gough 
 laid down the shovel and the hoe, picked the hayseed 
 out of his hair, and started for Gotham. 
 
 1 "Autobiography," p. 56.
 
 III. 
 
 THE YOUNG BOOKBINDER. 
 
 THE English lad is now out of tutelage, and 
 " Lord of himself that heritage of woe ! " 
 
 His parents are three thousand miles away. His 
 recent guardians have been left behind up in Oneida 
 County. He has just landed from the steamboat, and 
 stands at the corner of Cortlandt street, in New York 
 City with a baby trunk (plenty large enough to hold 
 all his possessions) at his feet, fifty cents in his pocket, 
 and fourteen years on his head. 
 
 " Carry your trunk, sir ? " said a voice. 
 
 He started, for he had been standing panic-stricken 
 in the rush and roar of the human stream. 
 
 " Carry my trunk," he repeated; and then asked 
 himself " where ?" He realized now the full mean- 
 ing of solitude in the midst of multitudes the drear- 
 iest loneliness of all. 
 
 Well, it would not do to be standing here in a brown 
 study. Like " Poor Joe " in Dickens's story, he must 
 be " movin* on." Some one directed him to a cheap 
 hotel. There he lodged. Next, he was directed to 
 seek work at the Methodist Book Concern, then in 
 Crosby Street. He did so, and was engaged as errand-
 
 44 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 boy in the bookbindery, with the promise of being 
 taught the business. What were the wages ? They 
 were $2.25 a week. How much did he pay for board ? 
 He paid $2 a week. The magnificent sum of 25 cents 
 was left for clothing and incidental expenses. 
 
 He first boarded in William Street (long since 
 wholly given up to business), and found that the land- 
 lady had placed him in the same room and bed with 
 a poor Irishman who shook all night with the fever 
 and ague. The next day Gough asked fora separate 
 bed. That night he slept on a " cat-tail " bed up 
 under the rafters in the same room with the sick man, 
 whose groans kept him awake, and who presently gave 
 a gasp, a moan and died. Poor Gough was fright- 
 ened out of his five senses. He sat there with eyes as 
 staring and mouth as much a-gape as the dead man's, 
 until morning dawned, when by a mighty effort he 
 overcame his catalepsy, rushed from the stifling den, 
 and aroused the landlady. She was as composed as 
 he was agitated the man's board was paid! " This," 
 remarked Mr. Gough, " was my first experience in a 
 cheap boarding-house in New York, but not the last 
 by any means. For lack of comfort, for want of all 
 that makes life enjoyable, a cheap boarding-house 
 stands preeminent." Here, beyond dispute, is the 
 secret of much of the dissipation prevalent among 
 men in great cities. The saloon isa-glitter with light, 
 offers companionship, in attractive contrast with the 
 dingy, six-by-nine lodging-house; and usually stands 
 between the brothel and the theater, opening impar- 
 tially into both. 
 
 For a time, however, Gough escaped these pitfalls. 
 As he worked that day he began to cry the scene of
 
 THE YOUNG BOOKBINDER. 45 
 
 the night before, his lack of sleep, and a sense of his 
 forlorn situation flooded his heart with woe. A young 
 woman near by saw and pitied him, learned his story, 
 and said: 
 
 " Poor, distressed child, you shall go home with 
 me." He did so. Her mother received him most 
 kindly; he had a mother and a sister once more. 
 Unhappily, he did not remain long with these good 
 Samaritans. He went from them to board with Mr. 
 Anson Willis, his class-leader in the church which he 
 attended. The future looked bright. His new 
 friends were interested in him, and, indeed, proposed 
 to educate him for the ministry. He wrote to inform 
 his parents of these prospects, and received their glad 
 sanction. For some reason, the educational project 
 fell through, Gough left the church, quitted the Book 
 Concern, and changed his boarding-place a social 
 revolution. This passage in his life he treats in his 
 "Autobiography" with reticence, and obscures it by 
 a reference to " circumstances." In so far as his 
 immediate future was concerned these " circum- 
 stances " were most unfortunate; although the 
 
 "... divinity that shapes our ends 
 Rough-hew them how we will " 
 
 meant from the evil to educe a compensating good. 
 
 With the improvement in his condition, the tugging 
 at his heart towards home increased. As he could 
 not go there, why not bring home here? He wrote 
 urging his parents to leave Sandgate for New York. 
 The father, unwilling to lose his pension, remained in 
 England in order to arrange for a commutation, hoping
 
 46 JOHN B. COUGH. 
 
 to follow later, and meantime sent his wife and 
 daughter on ahead in response to this appeal. 
 
 John was now sixteen, had learned his trade, was 
 earning $3 a week, and felt quite a man. When his 
 mother and sister arrived, he met them, received their 
 compliments upon his appearance, responded to their 
 affectionate caresses, and, the three went off to set up 
 that home of which John had been dreaming. It was 
 lowly but it was theirs ! The meals were frugal 
 but they were prepared by mother! They all thought 
 the three rooms in which they kept house quite palatial, 
 the three cups and saucers a grand show, and the 
 shabby furniture good enough for anybody. 
 
 "Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home."
 
 IV. 
 
 THE PAUPER FUNERAL. 
 
 MRS. GOUGH and her daughter had reached New 
 York in August, 1833. The weeks and months which 
 followed were like so many pages out of a fairy-story, 
 when, in November of the same year, the dream burst, 
 and fairyland was exchanged for prosaic privation. 
 Hard times came on ; snap, snap, went the cords of 
 business. Firm after firm failed. John lost his place. 
 His sister, who had secured work as a straw-bonnet 
 maker, lost hers. The breadwinners were both idle. 
 The Goughs retrenched by giving up two of their 
 rooms, and thus reduced their rent from $1.50 to 50 
 cents a week. But, where was this to come from? 
 And how about food, and fire, and clothing? 
 
 The battle for bread which they had found desper- 
 ate enough in England, proved to be even more des- 
 perate in America. The winter seemed interminable. 
 One by one the pieces of furniture were disposed of 
 eaten up. One by one their articles of wearing 
 apparel were carried to the pawnshop. John roamed 
 the streets in search of something, anything to do; 
 sometimes succeeding, more often failing to get even 
 a light job. Mrs. Gough and her two children went 
 hungry to bed, rose hungry in the morning, remained 
 hungry through the day, as an habitual experience.
 
 48 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 The agony of it who can tell, save those who know! 
 These were moments when meek-eyed patience folded 
 her hands in despair. 
 
 Self-respect kept the Goughs through that dread- 
 ful winter from applying to the poor-fund of the city 
 for relief. The worthy poor have to be sought they 
 seldom seek. There was then no organized charity; 
 charity was individual and sporadic. Moreover, these 
 people were unsophisticated, strangers in a strange 
 land, human chips on the Niagara rapids of a great 
 city, and unskilled in the wretched art of self-asser- 
 tion. Had they been less worthy and more brazen, 
 they had fared better in a world which often gives 
 from a motive no higher than to "get rid" of a 
 beggar. 
 
 As the wintry days brightened into spring and then 
 warmed into summer, these privations continued. 
 The necessaries of life were precariously gotten and 
 enjoyed. The boy and girl bore it better than might 
 have been expected. They had youth on their side 
 and health. Nor were they haunted by memory, nor 
 racked by anticipation. Mrs. Gough grew thinner 
 and thinner. She became so weak that she could 
 hardly drag herself about the garret. But for the 
 children's sake she forced a semblance of cheerfulness 
 to her face. The daily portion of Scripture was 
 unfailingly read. A blessing was asked on every 
 starvling meal. Like Milton, when poor and broken 
 and blind, she " bated no jot of heart or hope," but 
 submitted with the unmurmuring resignation of a 
 Christian. 
 
 It was the 8th of July, 1834. The day was hot. 
 Late in the afternoon John went off to bathe in the
 
 THE PAUPER FUNERAL. 49 
 
 East River. He was in unusually good spirits, and 
 sported in the water like a fish, while his companions 
 laughed merrily at his antics At eight o'clock he 
 returned home, reinvigorated by his bath, and leaped 
 up the stairs two steps at a time, whistling. His 
 sister met him at the door of their room, and exploded 
 in his ear the bombshell announcement: 
 
 " John, mother's dead! " 
 
 At first he was stunned then he became hysterical. 
 As soon as he could command himself he went in. 
 There she lay dear, dear mother her eyes closed, 
 a handkerchief around her head and chin, so cold, so 
 still, yet so sweet and beautiful to look at not like the 
 staring-eyed and open-mouthed dead Irishman in that 
 other garret, three years before! The boy's genius for 
 observation enabled him to grasp these details at a 
 glance. Then a tempest of sorrow beat within his 
 heart. Meantime, he sat there beside the unre- 
 sponsive form, as calm himself, physically, as the 
 dead. He took the passive hand in his palm, and 
 held it until it seemed, as in life, to give him pressure 
 for pressure. Thus he sat all night, thinking, think- 
 ing, devoid of fear and frozen with grief. He recalled 
 his mother's love and care her life of hardship her 
 meek and holy fortitude, and felt almost glad to 
 know that she was now in heaven, where such as she 
 belonged. 
 
 At break of day, a wild mood seized him. He rushed 
 from the house. " Mother is not dead," he said to 
 himself; " she shall not die! " Then the reality of it 
 shook him like an aspen leaf. He wandered down to 
 the river. There he sat thinking, -ever thinking, 
 taking no note of time. By-and-by he went home. 
 4
 
 50 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 They told him his sister had been cared for by neigh- 
 bors on the floor below; told him, too, how his 
 mother had been found by some one who passed the 
 open door of their room, stretched lifeless upon the 
 floor, where she had fallen, struck down by apoplexy 
 while in the act of preparing his supper, which was 
 found burned to a crisp in the saucepan on the stove 
 her last thought and effort expended for him! 
 
 Entering the room once more, John learned further 
 that a coroner's inquest had been held, and that 
 orders had been left to bury the body before the 
 next day noon. But how ? Where ? He plunged 
 into the streets again. On, on he went, anywhere, 
 nowhere, without a purpose save to keep in motion. 
 
 Involuntarily he drifted back to the house, and dis- 
 covered that the city had sent a cart, a pine box, and 
 two men, and that the precious dust had just started 
 for the Potter's Field. Hastening with his sister after 
 the vehicle, which was soon overtaken, the two 
 " mitherless bairns " followed on to the grave. This 
 dear saint had been tumbled into the pine box, with 
 her shoes on her feet, without a prayer, without the 
 reading of the Scriptures she loved, and was now 
 dumped in a shallow trench, which was hastily refilled 
 all was over. Such was the pauper funeral of poor 
 Jane Gough! 
 
 This experience made a practical atheist of Gough 
 or many years, and paved the way for his moral 
 downfall. " If there were a God (so he reasoned), 
 would He neglect His children ? Did my mother 
 ever desert me ? Was not she a saint ? See where 
 she lies now in the Potter's Field!" Having thus 
 stabbed Providence with interrogation points, and
 
 THE PAUPER FUNERAL. 51 
 
 put over him an exclamation mark tor a tombstone, 
 he proceeds to rail at the Church and at ministers. 
 " Mother was a consistent Church member, yet she 
 died unsuccored, and was carried to a pauper's grave 
 without a prayer ! " 
 
 We do not quote his words. But these bitter feel- 
 ings were locked-up in his heart as he turned over 
 these mysteries which have perplexed profounder 
 mindi> that his, and which have been discussed end- 
 lessly since they were mooted in the days of Job 
 under the tents of the Idumean Emirs. Happily, 
 deeper views of the creation, a wider knowledge of 
 human nature, a juster conception of Providence, and 
 a better understanding of death of the release and 
 reward it brings to the righteous eventually brought 
 him back to his mother's Bible and his mother's 
 God. 
 
 As it regards Gough himself, this pathetic passage 
 in his life by-and-by softened his heart, made him 
 infinitely pitiful, and gave him for the poor and 
 miserable a sympathy which enabled him to speak 
 for them and to them with redemptive power, and 
 with the persuasiveness of personal fellowship. 
 
 Moreover, his early poverty allied him with some 
 of the greatest of men. What did Dante owe to 
 Florence but exile, confiscation, and persecution ? 
 Lord Bacon is said to have been reduced to beg a 
 mug of beer in his old age and to beg in vain. 
 Otway was choked to death by a morsel of bread 
 swallowed too ravenously after a long fast. Johnson, 
 after the publication of his dictionary, was released 
 by his publishers from the debtor's prison. Gold- 
 smith, more than once, took refuge from actual
 
 52 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 starvation among the beggars of London. Nay, the 
 Divine Nazarene Himself was so poor that He " had 
 not where to lay His head." 
 
 This boy of sixteen was thus far in good com- 
 pany.
 
 PART III. 
 
 The Inferno 
 
 " O thou invisible spirit of wine, if thou 
 hast no other name to be known by, 
 let us call thee devil !" 
 SHAKESPEARE, Othello, Act II. Sc. 3.
 
 I. 
 
 ADRIFT. 
 
 UPON returning from the funeral of their mother 
 to the garret, where she died, and which had 
 been their home, John and his sister seated them- 
 selves in utter desolation. They would not, could 
 not remain where the associations were so sad. 
 The few articles which had stood by them in their 
 poverty until now, were now numbered among the 
 assets of the pawnbroker, and with the pitiful pro- 
 ceeds the children changed their abode and paid for 
 new lodgings a month in advance for the credit of 
 homeless orphans is seldom good ! Then John, 
 weakened by sleeplessness and long abstinence (he 
 had eaten nothing since his mother's death), was 
 taken seriously ill, and required medical attendance, 
 which the city furnished. When convalescent, he 
 went to the Oneida County farm to visit the people 
 with whom he had emigrated ; his sister going to 
 board near a place in town where she had at last 
 secured work. After an outing of several months, he 
 returned to New York and went into the bookbindery 
 of John Gladding. Two years and more ticked 
 themselves away, month by month, week by week, 
 day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute, second 
 by second, into eternity. How did the young book-
 
 56 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 binder spend the time? Recklessly ! He joined one 
 of those volunteer fire-engine companies which were 
 a feature of New York fifty years ago trap-doors of 
 perdition, too. This was a first downward step. He 
 made the acquaintance of a fast set. This was a 
 second step downward. He soon began to frequent 
 questionable resorts. This was a third step in his 
 moral descent. Low he went, and ever lower, slowly, 
 surely; illustrating in real life the scenes which 
 Hogarth has immortalized in his cartoons of "The 
 Rake's Progress." 
 
 Talent is to a man what beauty is to a woman 
 ofttimes a fatal gift. Gough sang finely, especially 
 in the comic vein. He was a natural actor. Story- 
 telling was his forte. Add to all, a social disposition; 
 and 'tis easy to understand why the young fellow 
 should have been the center and charm of those loose 
 circles. 
 
 In such companionship drinking was a matter of 
 co urser^Attd excessive drinljing. Gough's tempera- 
 ment was intense. Whatever he did was done to the 
 full 'eXteot^^wJi^ther it was work or play, folly or 
 repentance. He was also excessively nervous; and a 
 single social glass would set his brain aglow and 
 inspire his genius. This his friends knew. Hence 
 they would give him a "starter," and off he dashed 
 like a racer at the word " go ! " 
 
 Story ever old and ever new! Wretched delusion, 
 to imagine that happiness is to be enjoyed by indulg- 
 ing instead of in controlling appetite! 
 
 Nevertheless, Gough is more deserving of pity than 
 of blame. Think of his youth of his exposure of 
 his sordid lodgings of his isolation of his peculiar
 
 ADRIFT. 57 
 
 constitution. Had his mother lived she would have 
 supplied him with what he lacked, a home, the over- 
 sight and restraint of parental affection and religious 
 guidance. In losing her when and as he did, he lost 
 God, the Bible, the Church, every wholesome influ- 
 ence. 
 
 One morning in the late winter of 1837, while at 
 breakfast in a Grand street boarding-house, he was 
 told that there was a fire down the street. He had 
 been out late the night before, and was surly, as 
 young men are with nerves on edge after a carousal. 
 
 " Let it burn, it wont hurt me." 
 
 It did, though, for it was the bookbindery of Mr. 
 Gladding that was on fire. He was out of work 
 again. Not long, this time, but his " boss " went to 
 Bristol, Rhode Island, and as he wanted John to go 
 with him, the young man was burned out of New York 
 and into New England.
 
 II. 
 
 ON THE STAGE. 
 
 IN Bristol, Gough changed the scene but not him- 
 self. Bad always tends to worse. His drinking habits 
 grew stronger, and his companionships more dubious. 
 Within a twelvemonth Mr. Gladding failed. John 
 went to Providence. Being an excellent workman, 
 he easily found employment. The trouble was not 
 to get it but to keep it. His new employer liked him. 
 All that he needed was steadiness. Before he became 
 familiar with his new surroundings, a theatrical com- 
 pany billed the town. Gough sought their acquaint- 
 ance. They praised his singing, admired his acting, 
 and laughed at his stories. 
 
 " Say, young man, why don't you go on the stage?'' 
 said one of these Thesbians. 
 
 This question pleased his vanity. An actor why 
 not? 
 
 His mother had taught him to look with horror 
 upon the theater. For years he never passed one 
 without a shudder. Now he had become a confirmed 
 play-goer; another proof that 
 
 " Vice is a monster of so frightful mien, 
 As to be hated, needs but to be seen; 
 Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face, 
 We first endure, then pity, then embrace."
 
 ON THE STAGE. 59 
 
 The theater to-day is prurient enough. His- 
 trionic geniuses, like Edwin Booth and Charlotte 
 Cushman, have striven in vain to purify it. From the 
 same stage the serious face of Hamlet and the half- 
 nude form of the shameless danseuse have been 
 exhibited. Hyperion here, a satyr there. Sensuality 
 claims and dominates the boards. The plays that 
 draw the best and pay the most are of the type of the 
 " Black Crook" moral monstrosities. It sometimes 
 seems as though the days of Congreve and Wycherly 
 had come again. The license of Charles the Second's 
 time, when the loosest verses were put into the 
 mouths of women; when hard-hearted and swagger- 
 ing licentiousness prevailed; when every wife was 
 represented as a bawd and every husband as a dupe; 
 when Shakespeare's Viola was changed into a pro- 
 curess, and Moliere's misanthrope became a ravisher; 
 when vice was the fashion and virtue a joke, these 
 gross indecencies of the restoration disfigure the last 
 decade of the nineteenth century. We badly need 
 another Jeremy Collier. 
 
 Not long before his death, the late Edwin Booth 
 wrote to a stage-struck young friend well-placed in 
 life as follows: 
 
 " I have known many who, like you, gave up home, friends, 
 and a respectable position for the glitter of the actor's calling, 
 and who now are fixed for life in subordinate positions unworthy 
 their breeding, education, and natural refinement. I beg you, 
 as your friend and sincere well-wisher, to abandon the mistaken 
 resolve, and enjoy the drama as a spectator, which pleasure as 
 an actor you will never know, and retain the family, friends, and 
 happy home that now are yours. Had nature fitted me for any 
 other calling, I should never have chosen the stage ; were I
 
 60 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 able to employ my thoughts and labor in any other field, I 
 would gladly turn my back on the theater for ever. An art 
 whose professors and followers should be of the very highest 
 culture is the mere makeshift of every speculator and boor 
 that can hire a theater, or get hold of some sensational rubbish 
 to gull the public. I am not very much in love with my calling 
 as it now is (and, I fear, will ever be); therefore you see how 
 loath I am to encourage any to adopt it. I know you will take 
 my advice, as it is meant, in sincere kindness, and believe that 
 my only wish is to spare you the sorrow that must follow the 
 course you would pursue." 
 
 When young Gough became an actor things were 
 even worse. The theater was an outlaw. No preten- 
 sions were made to decency. When the plays were 
 not frivolous, they were dissolute. Coarse vice dis- 
 ported on the stage, and drunkenness hiccoughed in 
 the green-room. A worse environment for a young 
 man with habits already bad could not be found. 
 
 Gough soon showed the effects of his new way of 
 life. He drank more, swore more, gambled more 
 than ever. The line of characters he portrayed was 
 the lowest of the low profligate buffoons. A certain 
 success attended his representations, for he had in 
 unusual measure the talent required. Nor .was he 
 quite a novice. Before leaving New York he had 
 sung successfully in the old Chatham street theater, 
 under the assumed name of Gilbert a last tribute to 
 his past; for now, quite shameless, he acted under his 
 own name. 
 
 The players in Providence soon ended their season 
 in bankruptcy. Gough got nothing for his service. 
 Out-at-the-elbow, down-at-the-heel, his eyes red, his 
 face bloated, he was thrown penniless upon the
 
 ON THE STAGE. 6l 
 
 streets. From Rhode Island he wandered to Boston. 
 Here he played in a drama entitled, " The Temper- 
 ance Hoax," concocted to lampoon the cause after- 
 wards so dear to him, in which the coarsest fun was 
 poked at Dr. Lyman Beecher and Deacon Moses 
 Grant, two of his best friends in the near future. 
 Again the season ended in financial loss. Again he 
 was out of employment and unpaid. 
 
 Years afterwards, when the now bankrupt young 
 actor was mature and disillusionized, he thus throws 
 a flash-light back upon these experiences: 
 
 " I shall never forget the sensation on my first visit to the 
 theater. It was the Old Bowery. The play was ' The Apos- 
 tate' Mr. Booth, the elder, as Pescara ; Mr. Hamblin, the 
 manager, as Hemeya ; and Miss Vincent as Flortnda, The 
 afterpiece was 'The Review; or, The Wags of Windsor" 
 Mr. Booth as John Lump ; Mr. Hamblin as Looney Me Twol- 
 ter. Between the tragedy and the farce I cried and laughed. 
 I was thrilled by the tragedy, and convulsed by the farce. 
 It was a new world. How beautiful were the women ! 
 how noble were the men ! Even Pescara, as his eyes 
 flashed with malignant hate, was like a creature above the 
 mere human. The gorgeous dresses, the music and lights 
 dazzled me. I went home to my lodgings fascinated, carried 
 out of myself. How mean and poor was my little bed- 
 room, and what a dreary monotony of life mine was, plodding 
 in a shop to learn a trade! Trade, profession, occupation, busi- 
 ness all was tame, slow, groveling, compared with the glori- 
 ous, the grand, the bewildering pursuit of the actor. Again 
 and again I enjoyed the delicious enchantment, and fully de- 
 termined that I must be an actor I must strut my hour upon 
 the stage. I envied the poor stick who came on to remove 
 the tables and chairs the poor, despised supe; even the door- 
 keeper was an object of interest. Yes, I was smitten. 
 
 With what awe and reverence would we stage-struck boys
 
 62 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 watch some celebrated actor in the streets. It was an event 
 worth recording. ' I saw Forrest to-day.' ' I saw Booth to- 
 day.' I have even followed them and set my foot on the same 
 stones they had trodden. Remember I was but sixteen years 
 of age. These boys had each his favorite actress, for whom he 
 would fight, aye, and throw down the gantlet to all comers 
 in her defense. How we would crowd around the stage-door 
 to see some actor or actress pass in or out ! Madame Celeste 
 was a great favorite ; we were never weary of singing her 
 praises or seeing her performance. I should hesitate to say 
 how many times I had seen her in ' The French Spy.' 
 
 " All this led me to neglect the duty that lay before me. I 
 eagerly devoured any plays that I could lay hold of learned 
 parts. I could repeat and spout yaffier in ' Venice Preserved.' 
 From tragedy to comedy, from farce to melodrama ; I even 
 contemplated writing a play. I have carried a play-book sur- 
 reptitiously to my work-bench, and learned the whole play 
 while at my work, and then would mouth it and tear it in 
 pieces in the most extravagant theatrical style." ' 
 
 In speaking of the engagement in Boston, which 
 ended his theatrical career, he says: 
 
 " I had now been regularly engaged on the staff of artists in 
 a regular theater. Surely, I was at the summit of my ambi- 
 tion. Before it had been an occasional appearance to fill up a 
 gap at a temporary place of entertainment. Alas ! I found 
 the gold to be tinsel. Here I acquired a thorough distaste for 
 all theatrical representations, and all the genius and intellect 
 displayed by the most famous actor has not, and never can, 
 reconcile me to the sham, the tinsel crowns, the pasteboard 
 goblets, the tin armor, the paltry spangles, cotton for velvet, 
 all make-believe, the combats, and the sham blood. Even the 
 nightly disguise became an annoyance ; the painting the face, 
 corking the eyebrows, penciling the wrinkles, the doing up with 
 
 1 " Sunlight and Shadow," pp. 527, 528.
 
 ON THE STAGE. 63 
 
 false whiskers, hair, mustache, the French chalk, the rouge, 
 the burnt cork, to say nothing of the habiliments, rendered the 
 whole thing at the last odious to me ; and I never felt meaner, 
 or had less self-respect, than when I was bedizened to do some 
 character. How men of ability and common sense can submit 
 to this caricaturing night after night, passes my poor compre- 
 hension. 
 
 " In the theater I found some men of education in the higher 
 walks of the profession ; but, oh ! the disenchantment ! The 
 beautiful women were, some of them, coarse and profane; the 
 noble gentlemen often mean, tricky, and sponging. In fact, the 
 unreality of it, the terrible temptation to the lower forms of 
 vice, especially to those of the nervous, excitable temperament, 
 increased by the falsehood and fiction involved in their pro- 
 fession, in seeming to be what they never were or could be, 
 studying virtue to represent it on the stage, while their lives 
 were wholly vicious, repelled me. Mark me well, I do not say 
 this of all actors. I only speak of the special temptations of 
 this special profession." ! 
 
 In looking back, he affirms that even then he was 
 glad he failed in that vocation that the way was 
 closed, and marked, " No thoroughfare." God did 
 not mean Gough to wear the mask of Momus on the 
 mimic stage. He was to act a more real part in a 
 nobler drama. 
 
 1 " Sunlight and Shadow," pp. 529, 530.
 
 III. 
 
 THE ADVENTURES OF A DRUNKARD. 
 
 ALTHOUGH he had the appearance of a hard drinker, 
 Gough had been able to persuade himself until now 
 that he was not a drunkard. Conscience accused him 
 of it; but he played the special pleader in the court 
 of his mind and cozened the jury into bringing in a 
 verdict of acquittal. After his failure on the stage, 
 he went back to his trade. He was soon dismissed 
 on the avowed ground that he was a drunkard! 
 
 A disagreeable truth is resented. Gough was 
 angry. He kept sober for a whole week in order to 
 show himself that he did not deserve the opprobrious 
 title. The next week he was drunk from Monday 
 morning until Saturday night in celebration of his 
 sobriety! Upon recovering from this debauch, 
 poorer and shabbier than ever, he heard that a book- 
 binder was wanted in Newburyport, Mass., and that 
 $6 a week might be earned there. He went to New- 
 buryport, in January, 1838, got the job, and remained 
 sober for an unwonted interval. Then trade fell off, 
 and he shipped on a fishing-smack for a voyage to 
 Chaleur Bay. The captain carried no liquor; so that 
 Gough was temperate on ship-board by compulsion. 
 Every time the vessel touched along shore, however, 
 he went on a spree. On one such occasion he lay
 
 THE ADVENTURES OF A DRUNKARD. 65 
 
 drunk at the bottom of the yawl as it was rowed back 
 in the darkness to the vessel at anchor a mile away. 
 She was reached. The oarsmen scrambled aboard, 
 not missing him. The yawl was then hauled on deck 
 by the prow. The first jerk threw the poor drunkard 
 against the stern. The blow aroused him. He cried 
 out, and was caught just as he was about to be 
 dumped into the sea. This narrow escape he treated 
 as a good joke. The next time he went ashore he 
 treated his rescuers, and got drunk again in their 
 company. 
 
 Off Cape Sable, as the fishermen were homeward 
 bound, they ran into a terrific storm. The rough sea- 
 faring men did not expect to weather it. Crash went 
 the masts. Another crash, the deck was broken in. 
 Gough, made callous by dissipation, and calm in the 
 midst of storm, occupied himself in taking mental 
 kodak pictures of the scene the tossing vessel, the 
 shrieking wind, the upheaving waves, the frightened 
 sailors. After a wild day or two, they ran into Sher- 
 burne Bay, Nova Scotia, for repairs; and sailed thence 
 for home, which they reached without further adven- 
 ture. 
 
 Gough describes one incident of this storm in a 
 manner so characteristic that we quote it: 
 
 " We had a man on board so notoriously wicked that we 
 called him the Algerine. His habitual profanity was frightful. 
 Utterly ignorant, all he knew of prayer or Scripture, was the 
 first verse of the first chapter of Genesis, and the first clause of 
 the Lord's prayer. During fair weather, he was a great brag- 
 gart and bully ; when the gale so increased that we were really 
 in danger, he began to show signs of fear ; and soon we heard 
 him muttering ' In the beginning God created the heaven and 
 
 5
 
 66 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 the earth oh ! oh ! Our Father shart in heaven oh ! we're 
 going down oh ! d the luck In the beginning oh ! mur- 
 der d the luck Our Father shart in heaven.' When the 
 
 jib blew away he was ordered by the captain to go out with 
 another sailor on the bowsprit. ' No, I wont Our Father shart 
 
 in heaven no I wont d d if I do,' and there poor Jake 
 
 lay prone on the deck. ' Get up, you lubber ! ' roared the 
 captain. ' Our Father shart in heaven ' continued Jake. 
 ' You need to be started with a rope's end,' said the captain. 
 ' In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth' 
 'You fool! get up! you'll be washed overboard,' said the cap- 
 tain. ' Oh ! oh ! Our Father shart in heaven,' said Jake as he 
 crawled to one of the rings by the hatchway, and clung to it 
 with both hands. Poor Jake ! I think I see him now, as, in 
 spite of the tremendous sea and our personal danger, we could 
 but laugh. Utterly powerless with terror, all we could get out 
 of him was 'In the beginning' or, 'Our Father shart in 
 
 heaven ' with an occasional 'd the luck,' interspersed with 
 
 the most dismal ohs and groans. And so it was till the storm 
 abated. When we were safe in Sherburne harbor, seated at a 
 table with coffee and doughnuts, one of the men said : ' Jake, 
 what was that about your Father?' another: 'Jake, tell us 
 what was it in the beginning?' and the chaffing commenced 
 and continued, till he was almost beside himself with rage, and 
 so threatened us that we thought it advisable to let him alone. 
 But the slightest allusion to Jake's ' Father ' or ' the beginning ' 
 was sufficient to put him in a fury of passion ever after- 
 wards." J 
 
 When a man is a fool in one way he may be safely 
 relied upon to prove himself a fool in various other 
 ways. At this time Gough married! He could al- 
 most support himself; probably he thought it would 
 be a poor woman who could not help a little. The 
 
 1 "Autobiography," pp. 88-89.
 
 THE ADVENTURES OF A DRUNKARD. 67 
 
 singular part of it is that any woman should have 
 taken the same view. "Why are you women such 
 fools?" asked Napoleon of Madame de Stael. "I sup- 
 pose, sire," replied she, " that God made us to match 
 the men." Gough's wife, poor thing, paid dearly for 
 her folly. Perhaps she married him to reform him. 
 If she did, she soon realized her error. She did not 
 lift him up; instead, he dragged her down not into 
 drunkenness; that last disgrace was spared both of 
 them, but into poverty and wretchedness. 
 
 " Of all sad words of tongue or pen, 
 The saddest are these it might have been." 
 
 This marriage " might have been " happy. But in 
 order to that there was need of what Gough at the 
 time lacked, stability, sobriety ; in one word, char- 
 acter. Instead of altering his habits, he drank more, 
 if possible, neglected his home for his former evil 
 associates, and was habitually out of work. His 
 divinity was not his wife, but the bottle. 
 
 Soon his very associates grew ashamed of him. 
 They cut him in the street. The men who had 
 hounded him on along the road to ruin, now that he 
 had reached that destination, turned from him with a 
 curse. He became cheap in the estimation of the 
 " respectable " revelers, who wore good clothes and 
 held any social position. " Here comes that drunk- 
 ard," they would say ; and then pass him without a 
 nod. These were men about town who had not long 
 before laughed loudest at his drolleries and applaudec 
 his recitations. 
 
 Drunkard though he was, he was cut to the quick.
 
 68 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 For it is a mistake to imagine that even the lowest of 
 the low is destitute of feeling or indifferent to social 
 outlawry. Gough has himself said, in referring to 
 this period in his career : " To speak of a drunkard's 
 pride seems absurd ; and yet drink does not destroy 
 pride and the desire for better things. The sting of 
 his misery is that he has ambition, but no expecta- 
 tion ; pride, but no energy. Therefore, the posses- 
 sion of these very qualities is an addition to his load 
 of agony. Could he utterly forget his manhood, and 
 wallow with the beasts that perish, he would be com- 
 paratively happy. But his curse is that he thinks. 
 He is a man, and must think. He cannot always 
 drown thought or memory. He may, and does, fly 
 for false solace to the drink, and so stun his enemy 
 in the evening ; but it will rend him like a giant in 
 the morning. A flower, a half-remembered tune, a 
 child's laughter, will sometimes suffice to flood the 
 victim with recollections that either madden him to 
 excess, or send him crouching to his miserable room, 
 to sit with his face buried in his hands, while the hot, 
 thin tears trickle over his swollen fingers." ' 
 
 A self-respecting employer feels pride in his em- 
 ployes. Who wants a sot in his workroom ? Gough 
 could not get work. As he stood drinking at one of 
 the Newburyport bars he confided his situation to the 
 rumseller who had served him. 
 
 " Why don't you start a bindery of your own ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 Gough laughed, surveyed his rags, and said: 
 
 " If I can't get work, how can I get credit ? " 
 
 1 " Autobiography," p. 117, sg.
 
 THE ADVENTURES OF A DRUNKARD. 69 
 
 " Well, Gough, I'll furnish the tools, and you can 
 pay me in installments." 
 
 The offer was accepted. The tools were supplied. 
 The bindery was opened. He was much impressed 
 by this act of kindness. 
 
 " People say liquor-dealers have no heart. See 
 what this man has done when no one else would 
 lend me a helping hand!" Thus he thought. He 
 actually kept sober long enough to repay the debt. 
 Presently, however, his opinion was modified when 
 he learned that his " friend " had secured the tools on 
 credit, taken the money for them from him, never 
 settled for them, and left him to be dunned for double 
 payment! 
 
 How can a man who will not keep sober enough to 
 work for others successfully manage a business for 
 himself ? Cough's venture ended, as it was sure to 
 do, in failure. When he should have been in his 
 bindery, he was in a grog-shop. Books that were 
 promised were not delivered. Patronage ceased. 
 The shop was closed. 
 
 The unhappy man was now constantly under the 
 influence of liquor. He kept it in the house, drank 
 every little while, until his brain was always in a 
 dizzy whirl, and his hands trembled so that they lost 
 the power to work at a trade requiring delicacy of 
 manipulation, as bookbinding did. 
 
 In desperate straits, he joined himself to a strolling 
 company of minstrels, and set out on a local concert 
 tour. In one of those proverbs which concentrate the 
 wisdom of ages, we are told that " a rolling stone 
 gathers no moss." Gough's musical peregrinations 
 brought him more applause than money. But, like
 
 70 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 the " Wandering Jew," he was in motion which he 
 craved. 
 
 Rum revolutionized the nature of this young man. 
 He was naturally religious he dethroned the Lord 
 in his irreverent thought, and seated whiskey " as 
 God in the temple of God." He was naturally affec- 
 tionate he withdrew his heart from his wife and 
 gave it to drink. He was naturally truthful he lied 
 without scruple to get liquor. He was naturally 
 frank and open he became a sneak under the 
 influence of the bottle, and dodged down alleys and 
 skulked under the shadows when searching for a 
 dram. The fatal vice emphasized every weakness 
 and paralyzed every strength. Generosity became 
 meanness. And, like Milton's Satan, he seemed to 
 say: " Evil, be thou my good ! " 
 
 All this to tickle a little spot in the throat not an 
 inch wide. " Oh, that men should put an enemy 
 in their mouths to steal away their brains ! "
 
 IV. 
 
 DELIRIUM TREMENS. 
 
 SINCE his separation from his sister in the autumn 
 of 1834, soon after their mother's death, Gough had 
 not lived with her. She was now married, and 
 resided in Providence, Rhode Island. One day he 
 received a letter from her in which she told him she 
 was ill, and requested him to send his wife to her for 
 awhile. He consented a welcome respite to her, no 
 doubt. 
 
 Having seen her off, he returned to his home. Her 
 absence depressed him. A house without a wife in it 
 is like a body from which the soul is gone. He sat 
 down promising himself that he would go to work in 
 earnest. It was in the morning. Soon he espied a 
 bottle of West India rum. " Ah," said the toper, 
 " here is consolation." He took a glass, another, then 
 another. He lay down in a stupor. Late in the after- 
 noon he staggered to his feet. A sense of loneliness 
 drove him out in search of companionship. He found 
 a neighbor with kindred tastes. Together they 
 returned to Gough's room, and made a night of it. 
 In " the wee sma' hours," the visitor hiccoughed a 
 good-night, and stumbled away. Gough was so 
 intoxicated that in groping his way back from the
 
 72 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 door he fell over a table, broke the lamp, and lay on 
 the floor in the dark. By an effort he rose, found the 
 bed, and, without undressing, threw himself upon it. 
 But not to sleep. A horrible drowsiness put its fin- 
 gers on his eyelids and pressed them down. A hor- 
 rible wakefulness pried them open. Every sense was 
 preternaturally acute. His mouth seemed to be 
 stuffed full of dry flame. A furnace flamed in his 
 stomach. Dawn looked in at the window. Gough 
 rose, steadied himself, and sallied forth to replenish 
 his stock of rum. With a fresh supply he returned, 
 and for three days he lay on the bed nursing the bot- 
 tle. During all that time he ate nothing, nor did he 
 sleep. He rose, got a pipe, and went to bed again 
 with it lighted between his lips. He dozed. His 
 face became hot. He half awoke. The pillow was 
 on fire! He dashed it to the floor and sank into a 
 heavy stupor. From this state he was aroused by 
 neighbors who had been attracted by the smell of 
 fire. The straw on which he lay was smouldering 
 and in a few moments more must have burst into 
 flame! He was between two fires, unconscious of 
 either. 
 
 The fright sobered him just enough to enable him 
 to crawl out for more rum. He continued to drink, 
 until his nervous system gave way. Alarmed now, 
 he begged for a physician, who appeared, diagnozed 
 the case as one of alcoholism, and banished all stimu- 
 lants. Then came the drunkard's remorseless tor- 
 turer, delirium tremens. Gough himself describes it: 
 
 "For three days I endured more agony than pen can de- 
 scribe, even were it guided by the mind of Dante. Who can 
 tell the horrors of that malady, aggravated as it is by the con-
 
 DELIRIUM TREMENS. 73 
 
 sciousness that it is self-produced ? Hideous faces appeared 
 on the walls, on the ceiling, on the floors; foul things crept 
 along the bed-clothes, and glaring eyes peered into mine. I 
 was at one time surrounded by millions of monstrous spiders 
 that crawled slowly over every limb, whilst the beaded drops of 
 perspiration started to my brow, and my limbs shivered till the 
 bed rattled again. All at once, whilst gazing at a frightful 
 creation of my distempered mind, I seemed struck with sudden 
 blindness. I knew a candle was burning in the room, but I 
 could not see it it was so pitchy dark. I lost the sense of 
 feeling, too, for I endeavored to grasp my arm in one hand 
 but consciousness was gone. I put my hand to my head, my 
 side, but felt nothing, although knowing my frame and head were 
 there. Then the scene would shift ; I was falling, falling, falling, 
 swift as an arrow, far down into some terrible abyss. So like 
 reality was it, that as I fell, I could see the rocky sides of a 
 shaft where rocking, jibing, fiend-like forms were perched; and 
 I could feel the air rushing past me, making my hair stream 
 out by the force of the unwelcome blast. Then the paroxysm 
 ceased for a few moments, and I would sink back on my pallet, 
 drenched with perspiration, utterly exhausted, and feeling a 
 a dreadful certainty of the renewal of my torments." ' 
 
 For awhile this descent into the inferno startled 
 Gough into abstinence. He was young. He re- 
 covered rapidly. All that was necessary to make and 
 keep him hale and hearty was a temperate life. Alas, 
 no sooner did he feel like himself again than he re- 
 turned to his cups like a dog to its vomit. His wife 
 came home. With a drunkard's penchant for cele- 
 brations, he memorialized the event by getting drunk. 
 What a welcome ! 
 
 Now began another series of wanderings. Travel- 
 
 1 "Autobiography," pp. 103, 104.
 
 74 JOHN B. COUGH. 
 
 ing with a Diorartia of the Battle of Bunker (" the 
 British were here ; the Yankees were there ; and old 
 Pat said: ' Dont fire, boys, till you see the whites of 
 the Hessians' eyes ! ' "), he came to Worcester, Mass., 
 a city destined to be for ever associated with his 
 name. Here Mrs. Gough joined him. Worn out 
 by destitution and racked by anxiety, she was in fail- 
 ing health. In giving birth to an infant she died. 
 The child followed her. Gough was " alone, in 
 poverty," but not like the old saint, " with God." 
 / He was drunk when his wife and child died; drunk 
 . at the funeral ; only less squalid than his mother's; 
 ^ / drunk for weeks afterwards and unable to travel. He 
 i /' left the Diorama, or was left by it, and had recourse 
 to his trade. Hutchinson and Crosby, bookbinders, 
 gave him employment, in Worcester, and he worked 
 when he was not drunk and sometimes when he was. 
 Indeed, nowadays he was always under the influence 
 of liquor; it was only a question of more or less. His 
 employers dismissed him. He pleaded for reinstate- 
 ment on the ground of utter destitution on the edge 
 of winter. 
 
 " Gough," said Mr. Hutchinson, " I'll tell you what 
 we'll do. You shall come back, provided you'll let 
 us keep your money and buy for you what you need. 
 If you don't have money you can't get drunk." 
 
 Necessity cannot dictate terms it accepts them. 
 But after twelve years of self-support, Gough resented 
 the passing under tutelage. He records this as 
 among the bitterest of his humiliations. He had 
 been out-at-the-elbow and down-at-the-heel. By the 
 present arrangement he was clothed (though not " in 
 his right mind " ). He had been frequently in need
 
 DELIRIUM TREMENS. 75 
 
 of food actually hungry. He was now sure of his 
 meals. He had been shelterless. A roof and a bed 
 were now secured to him. 
 
 The lack of money for the purchase of rum kept 
 him sober, did it not ? Not a bit of it ! It only the 
 more keenly aroused his appetite and developed his 
 inventive faculties. Whatever household possessions 
 remained to him were speedily drunk up. Then, in 
 the evening, when the shop was shut, he sought one 
 and another of the lowest groggeries, amused the 
 bummers and loafers by his songs and stories, and 
 took his payment in "treats." He chuckled to him- 
 self : " How finely I'm outwitting ol'd Hutchinson ! " 
 
 Poor fool ! as though Hutchinson had any interest 
 in the case aside from Cough's own good. 
 
 On a certain evening when "exhilarated " and ripe 
 for mischief, Gough, accompanied by a group of row- 
 dies, adjourned from the tap-room to a neighboring 
 church in which second advent services were being 
 held in anticipation of a speedy end of the world. 
 The church was noisy with fervor. Amid a fusil- 
 lade of glorys, hallelujahs, and amens, the tipsy 
 actor seized a huge, square, wooden spittoon, filled 
 with sawdust, quids of tobacco, and refuse, and 
 passing down the aisle, said: "We will now take 
 p a contribution for the purchase of ascension 
 robes." ' 
 
 Amazement quieted the audience. Then the sac- 
 rilegious clown was hustled out of doors and handed 
 over to the police. The next day he was fined for 
 disturbing public worship. An anonymous friend 
 
 1 "Autobiography," pp. 119, 120.
 
 76 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 paid the fine he never knew who, and thus saved him 
 from jail. 
 
 Again came delirium tremens again the descent into 
 hell again the tortures of the damned. Pale as a 
 ghost, weak as a child, Gough crawled out of the 
 house, stopped at a drug-store, bought laudanum, 
 proceeded to the railroad track, put the bottle to his 
 lips, and was about to make an exit from life through 
 the door of suicide. His courage failed. He dashed 
 the poison to the ground, and barely escaped self- 
 murder. 
 
 Every morning he resolved to reform. Every even- 
 ing he treated resolution. He became hateful to him- 
 self, because he knew he was an object of universal 
 contempt. True, he might, and often did, change his 
 locality. He carried his environment with him, how- 
 ever, was despised as soon as known, and might cry 
 with the fiend in " Paradise Lost ": 
 
 " Me miserable! which way shall I fly ? 
 I cannot fly myself am hell { "
 
 PART IV. 
 
 Recovery and Relapse 
 
 " For to will is present with me, but how to 
 perform what is good I find not. For the 
 good that I would, I do not ; but the evil 
 which I would not, that I Mo." 
 
 ST. PAUL, Rom. vii. :i8, 19.
 
 I. 
 
 THE KIND TOUCH ON THE SHOULDER. 
 
 IT was in October, 1842, the last Sunday of the 
 month. The air was tonic. Late in the afternoon, a 
 poorly clad figure, surmounted by a flushed face, 
 came out of a house in the mechanic quarter of Wor- 
 cester and started off uncertainly down the street. 
 The man was in that middle state between sobriety 
 and intoxication when the senses are acute while the 
 spirit is melancholy. Hating the drink which had 
 unmanned him, he was, with the curious inconsis- 
 tency characteristic of his kind, proceeding to arum- 
 hole in Lincoln Square to get a dram. 
 
 He felt a kind touch on the shoulder. 
 
 The wayfarer turned and saw at his side a 
 stranger. 
 
 " Mr. Gough, I believe," said he. 
 
 "Yes," was the answer, " but you have the advan- 
 tage of me." 
 
 " My name is Stratton Joel Stratton. I'm a waiter 
 yonder in the Temperance Hotel. You've been drink- 
 ing to-day." 
 
 Mr. Stratton's manner was so evidently considerate 
 and friendly that Gough could not take offense. 
 
 " Yes," confessed he, " I have." 
 
 "Why don't you sign the pledge?"
 
 o JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 " I have no will, no hope, no future nothing. The 
 drink has eaten out my soul. Alcohol which preserves 
 snakes destroys men. I couldn't keep the pledge if I 
 took it. My dreadful condition is that I at once hate 
 rum and crave it." 
 
 Mr. Stratton took the young man's arm and walked 
 slowly on with him. 
 
 " You were once respectable," he said; "wouldn't 
 you like to be so again ? To have friends, to be a use- 
 ful member of society?" 
 
 ' I should like it first-rate," retorted Gough; "but 
 I have no expectation that such a thing will ever 
 happen." 
 
 " Only sign our pledge," remarked the Good 
 Samaritan, " and I will warrant it shall be so. Sign 
 it, and I will myself introduce you to good friends 
 who will feel an interest in your welfare and take 
 pleasure in helping you to keep your good resolutions. 
 Only sign the pledge, Mr. Gough, and all will be as I 
 have said; aye, and more, too." 
 
 Hope stirred the embers of his lost manhood. 
 
 Hope it had been lost for years. 
 
 " I will sign the pledge." 
 
 " When ? " asked his friend. 
 
 The devil-appetite suggested delay. " You've 
 done enough in reaching a good resolution. Coddle 
 this good resolution; treat it once more," whispered 
 this devil. Gough hesitated a moment, then said: 
 
 "I can't do it to-night. I must have some more 
 drink presently; but I certainly will to-morrow." 
 
 Mr. Stratton looked at him sharply. The glance 
 convinced him that Gough was already whirling in the 
 maelstrom of drunkenness that should he sign now
 
 THE KIND TOUCH ON THE SHOULDER. 8l 
 
 it would be only to break the pledge. He showed his 
 practical wisdom by not insisting. 
 
 " We have a temperance meeting in the town-hall 
 to-morrow evening," said he; "will you take the 
 pledge then ? " 
 
 " I will ! " 
 
 " That is right," was the hearty response. " I will 
 be there to see you." 
 
 " You shall," said Gough. And they parted. 1 
 
 What an enigma human nature is ! The sot who 
 had just resolved that he would be temperate, went 
 straight from the " valley of decision," on this blessed 
 Sunday afternoon, to the dram-shop in Lincoln 
 Square, which had been his objective point before he 
 met his resurrectionist. He gulped down glass after 
 glass of liquor. How good it seemed never had it 
 tasted so delicious as now, when it was about to be 
 dropped for ever ! Again he was in the streets. They 
 were filled with church-goers. He had already 
 worshiped, with Bacchus for a god, and the bar for 
 an altar, and the cup for a Bible, and the liquor-seller 
 for the officiating priest. He staggered to his room, 
 and fell on the bed, dead drunk. 
 
 On Monday morning he arose, pressed his hands to 
 his swollen, aching head, washed the stupor out of his 
 eyes with trembling hands, and, without breakfast- 
 ing, hurried away to the shop. We do not know, but 
 we suspect that his work was ill-done that day. His 
 mind was not on it. While he handled the wonted 
 tools of his trade, his thoughts were elsewhere in 
 distant Sandgate by the Sea on the Oneida County 
 
 1 " Autobiography," pp. 127-129. 
 6
 
 82 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 farm with his sainted mother- reflecting upon his 
 vagabond life centered on his dead wife and baby 
 and at last enmeshed in baser associations. "John 
 Gilpin's " famous ride was a quiet amble compared 
 with this wild, reminiscent gallop of the mind, as the 
 poor mechanic stood there in front of the work- 
 bench, i 
 
 All the while the consciousness of the temperance 
 meeting called for that evening, when he had prom- 
 ised to sign the pledge, was ever present. A hundred 
 times he said to himself, "I won't sign it!" Just as 
 often he gritted his teeth, and said, " I will! " He 
 fought numberless Waterloo battles with himself on 
 that day. 
 
 It was noon. He decided not to go to the meeting. 
 It was afternoon. He resolved to go. Night fell. 
 He left the shop with his mind made up: "I'll not 
 sign away my liberty!" He ate no supper thought 
 was too husy. Up in his room he said: " I'd like to 
 go to the town-hall, but I'm too . tired I've eaten 
 nothing to-day." He looked at the clock. It was 
 near the hour. Without waiting to think longer, he 
 seized his hat, buttoned his overcoat over his rags up 
 to the chin, and fairly rushed away. He entered the 
 ha^ll and seated himself. There was a call for the 
 relation of experiences. Acting under impulse, 
 Gough rose and told his wretched story. This was 
 his first speech on temperance. 
 
 Joel Stratton was there. When the prodigal ended 
 his narration, he brought him the pledge and gave 
 him the pen. 
 
 Gough signed it " in characters almost as crooked 
 as those of old Stephen Hopkins on the Declaration
 
 THE KIND TOUCH ON THE SHOULDER. 
 
 of Independence." It was his declaration of inde- 
 pendence! 
 
 Did that scrawl of a signature emancipate this 
 slave of the bottle ? Not so. Nor did the Declara- 
 tion of Independence free America ; it took eight 
 years of bloody warfare to do that. So Gough's 
 pledge merely initiated his freedom,' won only by a 
 terrific succession of moral Bunker Hills, and Valley 
 Forges, and Yorktowns. 
 
 Miserable days and nights succeeded. Many times 
 he was on the eve of giving up the struggle. " To be 
 weak," says Milton, "is to be miserable, doing or suf- 
 fering." His will had been rotted by alcohol, as acid 
 rots cloth. His nerves, deprived of their accustomed 
 stimulants, racked him like so many inquisitors. 
 His stomach loathed wholesome food, and rejected 
 it. Unwonted abstinence superinduced delirium 
 tremens again. There were hours when Gough 
 would have bartered his soul for one dram.. .But 
 kind friends surrounded him. Their encouraging 
 words helped him. Self-respect, long absent, 
 returned to inspire the recovered outcast. A tedious 
 sickness confined him to the bed, so that he could 
 not get liquor. With time, appetite relaxed the 
 vigor of its grip, though it did not die out and 
 never did. 
 
 .iii h r i r i 
 
 Out of "the body of this death " he emerged alive, 
 and only alive. "Those, who saw me," he remarks, 
 "might have said as was said of Dante, when he 
 passed through the streets of Florence: 
 
 "There's the man that has been in hell." 1 
 
 i '/ 1 I i : 
 
 1 " Autobiography," p. 138.
 
 II. 
 
 SMALL BEGINNINGS OF A GREAT CAREER. 
 
 THE drunkard is proverbially tattered and torn; 
 has no regard for cleanliness and decency of apparel. 
 Sobriety restores manhood; and, presto! the shoes 
 are blackened, the wardrobe is renovated, the hair is 
 combed, the inward change expresses itself through 
 these significant outward' signs. For seven years 
 (from eighteen to twenty-five) Gough had neglected 
 his person. Having signed the pledge, he straight- 
 way new-clothed himself. This was not vanity; it 
 was self-respect. 
 
 In those days a temperance meeting was held every 
 Monday night in Worcester. The reformed mechanic 
 became a regular attendant. The week following 
 the signing of the pledge, the president of the club 
 observed him, and asked how he was getting on. 
 Gough rose and said: 
 
 " I am getting on very well, and feel a good deal 
 better than I did a week ago." ' 
 
 This was his second temperance address. The 
 Demosthenes of total abstinence had a genius for 
 oratory, but this was not displayed at once. At the 
 weekly meetings referred to he usually said a few 
 words, making speeches which were speechlets. Gradu- 
 ally he enlarged upon the theme, kindled it with 
 
 1 " Autobiography," p. 140.
 
 SMALL BEGINNINGS OF A GREAT CAREER. 85 
 
 passion, seasoned it with humor, enforced it with 
 pathos. Ere long the nascent orator was invited to 
 repeat the story of his experience in outlying towns. 
 Thus he became in a small way a temperance circuit 
 rider. He had as yet no idea of making a business 
 of lecturing. Nor did he extemporize his reputation. 
 Like everything else of value, this had to be acquired. 
 Months of practice in schoolhouses; countless verbal 
 repetitions of his biography, aided in the develop- 
 ment of the great advocate's powers. His custom 
 was to work at the bench in the daytime,, and then 
 ride or walk in the evening to his appointments in 
 the neighborhood. He had been a notorious case. 
 The report of his reformation soon spread throughout 
 the locality. The audiences, therefore, were large. 
 Gough was a natural speaker. Continual practice 
 did the rest. 
 
 These meetings were usually held in schoolhouses 
 or town-halls, a number of speakers taking part. At a 
 gathering in West Boylston, Mass., Gough first occu- 
 pied the whole time, and earned his first lecture-fee, 
 $2, so that the occasion was doubly memorable. 1 As 
 the weeks passed the local demands for his services 
 increased so that he took off his apron, left the bind- 
 ery, and the new life absorbed him. 
 
 And now as the apostle of temperance begins his 
 labors, it should seem proper to review the history of 
 the cause. 
 
 Our English temperance comes from a Latin word 
 which means self-restraint, viz., temperantia. Its 
 present sense restricts it to abstinence from intoxi- 
 
 1 " Autobiography," p. 142.
 
 86 JOHN B. COUGH. 
 
 cants. Nor is there lacking classical authority for 
 this use. " By abstaining from sensual indulgences," 
 remarks Aristotle, " we become temperate." Xeno- 
 phon declares that the term temperance means, 
 first, moderation in healthful indulgence, and, 
 secondly, abstinence from things dangerous. Plato 
 devotes the first two out of the twelve books of his 
 Laws to a discussion of temperance legislation, and 
 reaches the conclusion that there is a distinction 
 between food and intoxicating beverages that the 
 one should be used in moderation and the other pro- 
 hibited. This, too, is the conclusion of Herodotus, and 
 of Thomas Acquinas, and the mediaeval schoolmen. 
 
 The vice thus banned is as old as authentic history. 
 It began with Noah, and went with his sons, Shem, 
 Japhet, and Ham, through Asia, Africa, and Europe. 
 Drunkenness disfigures the Patriarchal era, the Mosaic 
 dispensation, the Egyptian, Persian, Greek, and 
 Roman militarisms, and the Christian economy all 
 hiccough and stagger. The classics are foul with 
 intemperance; Anacreon is 1 the poet-laureate of the 
 ancient pot-house. And English literature up to 
 within a hundred years is similarly poisoned. Pages, 
 which otherwise laugh with wit, like those of Field- 
 ing and Smollet. have to be expurgated into decency 
 before we dare place them on the center table. 
 
 Tacitus paints the ancient Britons as gluttons and 
 sots, and the Roman is confirmed by the Venerable 
 Bede. Our German ancestors, before they streamed 
 out of their primeval forests into civilization and 
 Christianity conceived of heaven as a drunken revel. 
 With such an origin is it any wonder that drunken- 
 ness is in the Anglo-Saxon blood ?
 
 SMALL BEGINNINGS OF A GREAT CAREER. 8/ 
 
 The inebriating principle in liquor is alcohol a 
 modern name for an old devil. We have borrowed 
 the designation from the Arabs, one of whose chem- 
 ists (Albucasis), in the eleventh century, discovered 
 an artificial method of producing it although the 
 Chinese knew the secret long before that, and anath- 
 ematized the inventor, Iti. The chemists of the 
 Middle Ages called alcohol aqua vita water of life. 
 It has proved to be the water of death. 'Tis, in fact, 
 the juice of decay, naturally produced by fermenta- 
 tion, artificially produced by distillation, which simply 
 hastens decomposition. 
 
 Distillation cheapened alcohol, and so when it came 
 into general use, enabled the poorest to have a "familiar 
 spirit." The result has been especially disastrous in 
 Europe and America. By the close of the seven- 
 teenth century drunkenness was national and inter- 
 national. Great Britain suffered worst of all. The 
 use of distHled spirits, and the resultant evils, attracted 
 universal attention. Hogarth's shocking cartoon of 
 " Gin Lane " was tame compared with the actual fact. 
 The historian Smollet, referring to London, says: 
 " The populace were sunk into the most brutal de- 
 generacy by drinking to excess the pernicious spirit 
 called gin, which was sold so cheap that the lowest 
 class of the people could afford to indulge themselves 
 iri one continuous state of intoxication, to the destruc- 
 tion of all morals, industry, and order. Such a shame- 
 ful degree of profligacy prevailed that the retailers of 
 the poisonous compound set up painted boards in 
 public inviting people to drink for the small expense 
 of one penny, assuring them that they might be dead 
 drunk for twopence, and have straw for nothing.
 
 83 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 They accordingly provided cellars and places strewed 
 with straw to which they conveyed those wretches 
 who were overwhelmed with intoxication. In these 
 dismal caverns they lay until they recovered some 
 use of their faculties, and then they had recourse to 
 the same mischievous potion, thus consuming their 
 health and ruining their families in hideous receptacles 
 of the most filthy vice, resounding with riot, execra- 
 tion and blasphemy." ' 
 
 Nor was drunkenness the peculiar vice of the 
 lowest the highest were v transgressors. Boling- 
 broke, at the head of affairs, Addison in the Depart- 
 ment of State, Walpole, the Prime Minister, at once 
 set and followed the bad example, and Oxford, other- 
 wise a high character, went frequently intoxicated 
 into the very presence of the Queen and went with- 
 out rebuke! 
 
 In contemporaneous America the situation was as 
 bad or worse. The colonies were soaked in rum. 
 Liquor-selling was a branch of other and reputable 
 lines of trade. Everybody drank, and almost every- 
 body got drunk. Independence, which brought polit- 
 ical relief, did not affect this evil. Through the 
 eighteenth and the first half of the nineteenth cen- 
 turies people drank as they ate, as a matter of course. 
 A decanter stood on every sideboard. The guest who 
 did not pledge his host, the host who did not drink 
 the health of his guest, was deemed uncivil. Farmers 
 supplied their " help " with grog as they did with 
 bread. Was there a house raising ? It was signalized 
 by a free provision of rum and a general carousal. A 
 
 1 " History of England," Vol. III., chap. 7.
 
 SMALL BEGINNINGS OF A GREAT CAREER.' 89 
 
 funeral ? The attendants were " treated " as part of the 
 ceremony. A lawyer, like Daniel Webster, was not 
 singular when he held on by the rail in order to stand 
 and argue a case, half drunk, in the Supreme Court 
 of the United States. Famous doctors went drunk 
 to their patients. Clerical conventions were opened 
 and closed with a glass of grog as regularly as they 
 were with prayer; the one was as orthodox as the 
 other. Religious denominations were noted for 
 " never giving up a ' pint ' of doctrine or a pint of rum." 
 The entrance to a hotel was sure to lie through the 
 bar-room. Everybody ordered wine for dinner, 
 whether it was drank or not not to do so was 
 thought " mean. " In those days three-quarters of the 
 farms of Massachusetts were sold under the hammer 
 for rum debts. 1 That is to say, liquor was regarded 
 as a necessary part of private and public provender. 
 The man who did not drink was exceptional was 
 tabooed as unconvivial. He who could tip the largest 
 number of bottles and lie last under the table, was 
 looked upon as the truest gentleman. To be carried 
 habitually drunk to bed was a patent of nobility. 
 "As drunk as a lord," is a proverb inherited from 
 those times. 
 
 Was nothing done through all these ages to anti- 
 dote this poison ? Various remedies were suggested, 
 some few were attempted, but these were only palli- 
 atives. Acts of Parliament in England, statutes 
 in America, were framed in the interest of restric- 
 
 1 Wendell Pliillips's " Review of Dr. Howard Crosby's 'Calm 
 View of Temperance,'" pub. by Am. Nat. Tern. Soc'y, New York 
 City, 1881.
 
 90 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 tion, but were vitiated by some form of license, con- 
 strued into sanction. In 1785, Dr. Benjamin Rush 
 published his essay against ardent spirits, and thus 
 began a period of preparation. More than a quarter 
 of a century later (in 1825), Dr. Lyman Beecher added 
 his magnificent contribution in " Six Sermons on In- 
 temperance"; each one a columbiad, whose detona- 
 tion aroused the sleeping conscience of the Church. 
 The evil was so present, so visible, that when their at- 
 tention was called to it, other clergymen of prominence, 
 like Dr. Justin Edwards, and Dr. Leonard Woods 
 began to inveigh against it. Within two decades 
 most of the clergy of New England had become ab- 
 stainers. Temperance societies were organized one 
 of the earliest being the American Society for the 
 Promotion of Temperance, in Boston, in 1826. Tem- 
 perance newspapers were also foujided. Of these 
 The National Philanthropist, established by William 
 Collier, a Baptist city missionary, in Boston, also in 
 1826, deserves special mention, as it was the first 
 newspaper in the world which was devoted to the 
 temperance cause and which advocated total absti- 
 nence. This sheet was the mate, in a kindred reform, 
 of The Liberator, organ of the Abolitionists. And, 
 significantly enough, Wm. Lloyd Garrison served an 
 editorial apprenticeship in the office of The National 
 Philanthropist before he graduated into 'The Liberator. 
 By the year 1834, the reform movement had spread 
 to twenty-one States, and 5,060 local temperance 
 societies had been organized, with a membership of 
 1,000,000 strong. Before the close of that decade, at 
 least three States, viz., Tennessee (in 1838), and Missis- 
 sippi and Ohio (both in 1839), had enacted prohibitory
 
 SMALL BEGINNINGS OF A GREAT CAREER. 91 
 
 laws advanced ground which they soon abandoned. 
 
 In 1840 the Rev. Matthew Hale Smith lectured in 
 Baltimore, Md., on the evils of intemperance. One 
 or two men heard him who were members of a 
 mechanic's drinking-club, which met in the tap-room 
 of an adjourning tavern. They carried back to the 
 pot-house a report of the discourse. The question 
 was hotly debated between the members. As the 
 outcome, six of them went over to total abstinence, 
 established an organization which they called " The 
 Washingtonian Temperance Society," and started an 
 active propaganda. These six original apostles were 
 presently joined by a seventh, J. H. W. Hawkins, a 
 reformed inebriate, who became the St. Paul of " the 
 Washingtonians," as they were popularly called. 
 Washingtonianism caught from town to town and 
 kindled from State to State. Hundreds of thousands 
 signed the pledge under its auspices, most of them 
 drinking men. 
 
 In this wonderful movement there were two radical 
 defects. First, it was based on mere moral suasion 
 upon what it called " the law of love," and discoun- 
 tenanced any appeal to prohibitive law. Second, it 
 ignored religion when it did not antagonize it. A 
 movement thus operated by sentimentalism and in- 
 fidelity could hardly be long lived, even though it 
 sought to remedy an evil like intemperance. When 
 the novelty wore off, Washingtonianism began to 
 " dwindle, break, and pine." But while it lasted it 
 started agents and agencies more potent than itself, 
 which gather force as the years roll on. 
 
 It was in this temperance revival that John B. 
 Gough was born again.
 
 III. 
 
 TEMPTED. 
 
 MR. GOUGH was now fully occupied as a Washing- 
 tonian lecturer. His reputation and engagements were 
 as yet local. The first, however, waxed daily; and 
 as for the others, towns crowded one another in the 
 effort to secure his services. 
 
 He sadly missed at this time a wise and watchful 
 intimate to moderate his pace. Unused to the new 
 life, which was very exciting, deprived of a stimu- 
 lus to which he had been long wedded, he was in 
 grave moral danger. The peril was aggravated by a 
 feeling of self-sufficiency which now puffed him up. 
 Poor fellow ! yesterday an outcast, to-day a favorite 
 is it any wonder that his head swelled again as it 
 swelled of old, though from a different cause ? 
 
 " Pride goeth before a fall." Gough needed to 
 fall in order to rise to realize his weakness that he 
 might find his strength. 
 
 He had abstained for five months. He believed 
 his appetite conquered and by himself. Knowing 
 little of medicine, he was not alarmed by certain 
 symptoms which were danger-signals extreme rest- 
 lessness, occasional incoherence of thought and 
 speech, a sense of apprehension, and an intense nerv- 
 ousness which made the slamming of a door jar his
 
 TEMPTED. 93 
 
 whole system. A good physician, observing these 
 symptoms would have prescribed rest and quiet. His 
 doctor gave him tincture of tolu, with opium the 
 worst prescription imaginable. 
 
 One day he dropped his engagements and took 
 the cars to Boston, without a purpose, save to do 
 something. It was a case of nervous prostration; he 
 feared delirium tremens. Hallucinations already 
 haunted him. In Boston he went to the theater 
 met some former associates told them of his strange 
 feelings accompanied them to an oyster-house, and 
 took brandy! 
 
 He took it thoughtlessly. When he had swallowed 
 it, he felt as Peter did after he had denied Christ, and 
 the cock crew. To drown thought he drank repeat- 
 edly, but not to intoxication. From Boston the 
 fallen lecturer went to Newburyport, drawn thither 
 unconsciously by old associations. The news of his 
 reform had preceded him but not of his relapse. 
 Friends of the cause urged him to speak there. He 
 did, twice, though agonized by his false position. 
 After a few days he returned to Boston, where he 
 also stayed for several days, drinking in the mean- 
 while, and trying to make up his mind what to do. 
 His temperance career was closed there was no 
 doubt of that. But he ould be a sober man. He 
 resolved to go back to Worcester, confess his fault, 
 then depart to no matter where. 
 
 Gough reached Worcester on a Saturday, went 
 directly to several of his closest friends, told them 
 what had occurred, resigned the pledge, and packed 
 h?s belongings preparatory to leaving town. He was 
 urged to wait and attend the well-known temperance
 
 94 JOHN B. COUGH. 
 
 meeting on Monday night. He did; and in a pathetic 
 address which melted speaker and auditors, sobbed 
 out the story of his sin and penitence. Resolutions 
 of sympathy and confidence were publicly adopted. 
 The sin was condoned. The penitent was reinstated. 
 
 Mr. Gough was an apt scholar That relapse in 
 Boston led him to see that a change in the will is a 
 different thing from a change in the appetite. A de- 
 praved appetite lies couchant in the body, like a tiger 
 in a jungle, ready to spring out and craunch when- 
 ever the victim is unwary. He thus detected one fatal 
 defect in Washingtonianism which was based on moral 
 suasion. Reflection .taught him, too, the absolute 
 necessity of religious principle. A higher power than 
 man sways is required to hold an infirm will to a 
 righteous purpose and the appetite in subordination. 
 Appeals to "manhood" tickle human vanity; but 
 while they please, they damn. One "hid with Christ 
 in God " is safe. And so he preceived the second 
 philosophical error in the Washingtonian crusade 
 its neglect of personal piety as the most stable founda- 
 tion in reform. 
 
 Strange, that a third great truth did not dawn 
 upon his consciousness, viz., the importance of 
 prohibitive law as an indispensable safeguard, 
 tyjien he went into the streets of the New Eng- 
 land metropolis on that sad day, they were set 
 thick with pitfalls. A weak or depraved man was 
 almost sure to trip and fall into vice. Prohibition 
 would have closed those abounding doors, and made 
 the streets comparatively safe for feet like his to 
 tread. 
 
 Moreover, prevention is better than cure. Prohibit-
 
 TEMPTED. 95 
 
 ive law seeks to forestall temptation. It contemplates 
 the salvation of the drunkard; but it does more it 
 aims at the preservation of unsoiled youth and inex- 
 perience. Under such a law Gough would not have 
 become a drunkard would have been saved from 
 those seven years of sin and shame. Eventually, he 
 reached this truth, also; but not as early as might 
 have been expected. 
 
 The relation between these three great parts of 
 temperance is obvious. Moral suasion in the wrecker's 
 boat rowed through the surf to clutch from the 
 fiery waves of alcohol the wretches who have made 
 shipwreck of manhood. Re.igion nurses them back 
 to health and strength after they have been brought 
 ashore. Prohibitive law prevents further shipwrecks 
 by removing the rocks or shoals which imperil the 
 voyage of life. 
 
 Reformed inebriates sometimes imagine that, after 
 a period of abstinence, they can begin again and 
 drink moderately. There is no case on record of 
 success in such an undertaking. And for the reason 
 already mentioned the will is weakened and the ap- 
 petite depraved. Indulgence leads inevitably, invari- 
 ably to excess. Moderate men may drink moderately, 
 provided they have never been drunkards, although 
 even they are in danger. But for those who have 
 been down, and are now up, there is only one rule 
 total abstinence. 
 
 And so, as it concerns men whose temperament is 
 nervous, susceptible men, pushing and shoving men, 
 whose pulses throb with energy, and whose being is 
 marked plus for such total abstinence is the only 
 safe practice. " I can abstain," said old Dr. Samuel
 
 96 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 Johnson; " I can't be moderate." As for Mr. Gough, 
 he testified, years after he had stopped drinking, that 
 the mere smell of brandy gave him a raging thirst 
 for it which God's grace alone quenched. His life 
 was a battle. Like the bravos who skulked under 
 the shadows in mediaeval Venice, appetite and tempt- 
 ation dogged his footsteps with poisoned stiletto, 
 watching for a chance to strike. He illustrated the 
 saying of Goethe that " He only earns his freedom 
 and existence who daily conquers them anew."
 
 PART V. 
 In the Arena 
 
 " We do not take possession of our ideas, 
 but are possessed by them. They mas- 
 ter us and force us into the arena, 
 where, like gladiators, we must fight 
 
 for them." 
 
 HEINE.
 
 ON THE PLATFORM. 
 
 THE speed with which Mr. Gough got upon his 
 feet after the fall in Boston is proof of his grit. Fold- 
 ing that experience he marked it "important," filed 
 it away in his memory for future reference, and at 
 once resumed his labors in the cause of temperance. 
 
 " Possessed by the one dread thought that lent 
 Its goad to his fiery temperament, 
 Up and over the land he went, 
 A John the Baptist, crying ' Repent ! ' " 
 
 During the earlier half of his first year in the work, 
 he made his name and fame known in Worcester 
 County ; in the latter half he became a magnet 
 throughout New England. He was ubiquitous 
 indefatigable. " In three hundred and sixty-five 
 days," he says, " I gave three hundred and eighty- 
 three addresses, and received for them $1,059- out of 
 which I paid all my traveling expenses ; traveled six 
 thousand, eight hundred and forty miles; and 
 obtained fifteen thousand, two hundred and eighteen 
 signatures to the pledge." ' 
 
 Facts of this kind he habitually jotted down in a 
 
 1 "Autobiography," p. 160.
 
 IOO JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 vade mecum. He could have earned more money at 
 bookbinding ; but his heart was set now upon some- 
 thing better than money. Sometimes, however, the 
 meanness or thoughtlessness of his audience put him 
 in straits. In 1843 his average pay for a lecture was 
 $2.77 ! " Once," he writes, " after I had been speak- 
 ing for nearly two hours, and had taken my seat, the 
 chairman rose and proposed a vote of thanks, which 
 was passed unanimously. As the audience were being 
 dismissed I asked if that vote of thanks ' could be given 
 me in writing? as perhaps the conductor on the train 
 would take it for my fare.' The hint was sufficient, 
 and a collection was taken up, amounting to $4." l 
 
 In September, 1843, Gough spoke for the first time 
 in Boston. He had avoided that town, because he 
 underrated his own ability and overrated Boston cul- 
 ture which, like many others, he believed to be four 
 feet thick on a level. Probably the American Athens 
 was a formidable arena. Intelligence was as high 
 there as anywhere in the New World ; and many of 
 the most famous speakers of the day were Boston 
 men. There Otis and Adams and Ames and Quincy 
 had thundered ; there Webster and Everett and 
 Choate and Wendell Phillips, were " names to conjure 
 with." No wonder the young mechanic shrank from 
 the ordeal. 
 
 At a temperance gathering in rural Massachusetts, 
 in the summer of 1843, he m et and made a lifelong 
 friend Deacon Moses Grant. This gentleman was 
 a Bostonian, the son of one of the revolutionary tea- 
 spillers, a wealthy merchant, and the president of the 
 
 1 "Autobiography," p. 161.
 
 ON THE PLATFORM. IOI 
 
 Boston Temperance Society. Mr. Grant had traveled 
 in Europe, and had been liberally educated in 
 America. He was of a nervous, sanguine tempera- 
 ment, under the medium size, and had a habit of 
 twitching the muscles of his face and shrugging his 
 shoulders when specially interested a peculiarity 
 which Gough instantly detected. He wrote a sensi- 
 ble letter, made a practical speech, was peculiarly 
 happy in his remarks to children, and was in demand 
 as chairman on all philanthropic occasions. 
 
 It was this good man who had invited Gough to 
 Boston. After no little hesitation, he consented to 
 become Mr. Grant's guest, and to speak under his 
 auspices. 
 
 A mortification met the young orator on the 
 threshold. He was arrested for debt. During the 
 Arab days, when drunkenness and poverty were his 
 inseparable companions, he had " remembered to 
 forget " to pay a board bill in Boston. The landlady 
 saw the announcement of his lecture, recognized the 
 name, found out where he lodged, and dispatched an 
 officer to collect the debt ($20), or collar the debtor. 
 From this dilemma Deacon Grant extricated the 
 impecunious lecturer, and bore him off in triumph to 
 the meeting in Tremont Chapel, under the Boston 
 Museum. 
 
 Mr. Gough acquitted himself so satisfactorily that 
 he was engaged on the spot to speak three nights 
 more in Boston, which he did to ever-increasing 
 audiences, and amid great enthusiasm. And ever 
 after the announcement of his name was sure to 
 crowd the largest halls in the city. 
 
 After a few weeks spent in circling around the
 
 102 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 " Hub," " temperancing," as he used to say, and 
 creating a furore everywhere at Nashua, N. H. 
 (where he spoke with Franklin Pierce, afterwards 
 President of the United States, as a fellow talker); 
 Concord, N. H.; New Bedford, Marblehead, and then 
 down into the " Old Colony," in the neighborhood of 
 Plymouth Rock Gough ran back to Boston. Thence, 
 on the 23d of November, 1843, he proceeded to Boyl- 
 ston, near Worcester, to be married. 
 
 Some time before this he had spoken in Boylston, 
 
 aftd had met a certain lady destined to become 
 
 another self a feminine and, therefore, etherealized 
 
 Self, and a helpmeet in very truth. Her name was 
 
 \ Mary Whitcomb. She was a New England farmer's 
 
 \/daughter, a Yankee schoolma'am, physically strong, 
 
 intellectually alert and appreciative, morally sweet 
 
 and pure, and a devoted Christian. 
 
 "A creature not too bright and good 
 For human nature's daily food 
 For transient sorrows, simple wiles, 
 Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles. 
 A perfect woman, nobly planned, 
 To warn, to comfort, and command ; 
 And yet a spirit still, and bright 
 With something of an angel light." 
 
 During their brief courtship of a few weeks, they 
 talked of religion rather than of love; but is not 
 religion love ? " She took me on trusf," remarks the 
 husband, " with $3.50 in my pocket; but Mary was 
 willing to risk it with me." ' 
 
 1 " Autobiography," p. 172.
 
 ON THE PLATFORM. 103 
 
 Mary Whitcomb understood John Gough by intu- 
 ition his weakness, his strength; saw what he 
 required to transmute the first into the last, and sup- 
 plied the means. They were married_mi__the 24th of 
 y a ministerial mutual friend, in 
 
 Wofcester, with Spartan simplicity " no bridal 
 wreaths or gifts; no wedding-ring or cards; no 
 bridesmaids or groomsmen only they two agreeing 
 to walk the journey of life together." From this date 
 on for years, Mary Gough accompanied her husband 
 everywhither, prolonging his life by her care, and 
 doubling his usefulness by her inspiration. 
 
 Mr. Gough's manner of speaking was so exhausting 
 (to him) that when he closed a lecture he dripped 
 with perspiration; his clothes were wringing wet; his 
 vitality was spent; he was in a state of collapse. 
 Hours of attention were necessary in order to soothe 
 him into quietude. He had to be recuperated with 
 bath and food; nor did sleep come until long past 
 midnight. His wife made herself his nurse his 
 " brave, faithful Mary! " 
 
 The young couple went from Worcester back to 
 Boston; where the proud husband introduced the 
 bride to Deacon Grant. The good deacon, realizing 
 the fact that marriage makes or mars two lives, had 
 been doubtful about the choice of his prottgt. When 
 he saw her he said: 
 
 "John, she'll do!" 
 
 And, Gough adds the comment a quarter of a cen- 
 tury later, " nobly she has done." 
 
 They fixed their residence in Roxbury, now a divi- 
 sion of Boston. The groom spoke that very evening 
 in Roxbury on his favorite theme, rested on the Sun-
 
 104 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 day which followed, and then went on with his work, 
 spending the honeymoon and the weeks that suc- 
 ceeded, on the platform. 
 
 In the spring of 1844, with Mrs. Gough for a travel- 
 ing companion, he visited New York City to attend 
 the anniversary of the American Temperance Union, 
 on the gth of May. The meeting was held in the 
 Broadway Tabernacle, an historic hall long since 
 demolished. Gough's name was not as familiar then 
 as it soon became. As he rose to speak, towards the 
 end of a long session, many people rose with him 
 to leave; not a common practice in his experience, 
 even then. But those who remained enjoyed a treat. 
 
 Various other points in the Middle States were 
 visited on this tour Brooklyn, Newark, Philadelphia, 
 Baltimore, among the number. Then Boston was 
 sought again, where a notable temperance celebra- 
 tion was held on the 3oth of May, with the city 
 dressed as gaily as Venice used to be when the 3ge 
 wedded the city by the sea to the sea: stores closed 
 an endless procession in the streets, a monster mass- 
 meeting on the Common, and a grand finale in the 
 evening in Faneuil Hall, with Gough for the orator. 
 
 Off again: this time to deliver a series of thirty 
 addresses in western New York (where Mr. Gough 
 pointed out to " Mary " the Oneida farm) compen- 
 sation, $10 a lecture, the itinerants paying their own 
 expenses. They were not likely to get rich on such 
 terms. 
 
 " No matter, John," said Mary; " we are doing the 
 Lord's work." 
 
 It was during this tour that the couple first saw 
 Niagara Falls. " I thought," comments Gough, " that
 
 ON THIS PLATFORM. 105 
 
 a parallel might be drawn between the stream, rapids, 
 and cataract before me, and the stream, rapids, and 
 cataract of drunkenness. Above the Falls of Intem- 
 perance the water is bright and smooth, thousands 
 who embark on that placid stream, as it glides down 
 and comes into the rapids, are swept on with fearful 
 rapidity, and sent into the gulf at a rate of 30,000, 
 40,000, and 50,000 a year, a dreadful waste of human 
 life. The friends of humanity see this terrible destruc- 
 tion; they station themselves above, and cry out to 
 the people, ' Back! back for your lives: none escape 
 who get into these rapids except by miracle.' " ' 
 
 Upon reaching Boston again, now their headquart- 
 ers, Mrs. Gough proved the strength of her influence 
 for good over her husband by pursuading him to unite 
 with the Church. She was already a Church mem- 
 ber, and transferred her membership by letter to the 
 Mount Vernon Congregational Church, in Boston, 
 Mr. Gough coming into the fold upon confession of 
 his faith. In the pastor, the Rev. Dr. E. N. Kirk, 
 both found a warm and helpful friend, in full sym- 
 pathy with their spiritual and moral aims. Dr. Kirk 
 possessed remarkable pulpit gifts and graces, and was 
 a tongue of Penticostal fire in his day. 
 
 With his feet thus set on the Rock of Ages, and set 
 to stay, and with such a wife at his side, the young 
 lecturer felt strong to do and dare for God and 
 humanity. 
 
 The close of the year, 1844, was selected by the 
 friends of temperance in Boston for another demon- 
 stration in Faneuil Hall. A vast audience assembled 
 
 1 " Platform Echoes," pp. 617-618.
 
 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 fo hear and cheer Mr. Gough. It was on this occa- 
 r sion that he introduced his apostrophe to water, 
 which soon became famous across the continent. 
 Holding in his hand a glass filled with it, he said : 
 
 Is not this beautiful ? Talk of ruby wine. Here 
 our beverage water, pure water; we drink it to 
 'quench our thirst. There is no occasion to drink ex- 
 cept to quench one's thirst ; and here is the beverage 
 our Father has provided for His children. When 
 Moses smote the rock the people were thirsty, and it 
 was water that came forth, not wine, or rum, or ale. 
 Were you ever thirsty, with lips dry and feverish, and 
 throat parched ? Did you never lift the goblet of 
 pure water to your lips and feel it trickling over the 
 tongue and gurgling down the throat ? Was it not 
 luxury ? Give to the traveler on the burning desert, 
 as he lies perishing with thirst, a goblet of cold water, 
 and he will return the goblet heaping with gold ; 
 give him wine, rum, or ale, and he turns away in 
 feverish disgust to die. Our beverage is beautiful 
 and pure, for God brewed it not in the distillery, 
 but out of the earth." 
 
 The orator then described it as enveloping the earth 
 in wintry mantle, as rolling up the valley in the cloud- 
 mist, settling on the mountain-top, and descending in 
 the rain; and painted it in the streamlet, in the rain- 
 bow, beautiful always and blessed; no curse in it, no 
 heartbroken mother or pale-faced wife, no starving 
 child nor dying drunkard to lament its existence, and 
 he concluded: 
 
 " ' Give water to me, bright water to me, 
 It cooleth the brow, it cooleth the brain. 
 It maketh the weak man strong again.'
 
 ON THE PLATFORM. 107 
 
 "Tell me, young men and maidens, old men and 
 matrons, will you not dash from your lips the drink 
 that maddens and destroys and take as your beverage 
 the beautiful gift our Father in Heaven has provided 
 for His children ?" ' 
 
 The apostrophe was seldom repeated verbatim. 
 The speaker was always changing it, sometimes for 
 the better, often for the worse; but it never failed to 
 call forth a hearty response. 
 
 With the Godspeed of Faneuil Hall Mr. and Mrs. 
 Gough proceeded to Philadelphia, where he opened 
 the year 1845 under the shadow of another historic 
 edifice Independence Hall, in which the first Conti- 
 nental Congress met and the immortal Declaration 
 was signed. 
 
 The reformer had spoken before in the Quaker 
 City, but under poor management and to small num- 
 bers. He came now to fill an engagement with the 
 Pennsylvania State Temperance Society, which gave 
 him prestige. Besides, his reputation was now con- 
 tinental. His success was phenomenal. After speak- 
 ing in several churches on successive evenings, 
 he was driven at last to the immense Chinese 
 Museum, and this also was twice crowded to suffoca- 
 tion. 
 
 At this period Mr. Gough spoke his biography, 
 with numerous asides, both humorous and pathetic. 
 He then sang a song or two (which will surprise those 
 who heard him only in later years), and solicited sig- 
 
 1 In his book entitled " Sunlight and Shadow," pp. 359, 360, 
 Mr. Gough gives the apostrophe, and defends himself against the 
 charge of plagiarizing it from Paul Demon.
 
 108 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 natures to the pledge quite after the fashion of an 
 evangelist nowadays, exhorting converts. 
 
 In appearance, in these early years, he was pale and 
 thin the shadow of a man, and looked tall, though only 
 5 feet and 7 inches in stature. His hair was bushy, 
 and he tossed it about as a lion does his mane. His 
 coat was close-buttoned to the chin. The lithe form 
 was always in motion, and needed a large platform 
 for full effect. "The restless, eager hands, supple as 
 India-rubber, were perpetually busy flinging the hair 
 forward, in one character, back in another, or stand- 
 ing it straight up in a third; crushing the drink-fiend, 
 pointing to the angel in human nature, or doubling 
 up the long coat tails in the most grotesque climaxes 
 of gesticulation, when, ' with a hop, skip, and jump/ 
 he proceeded to bring down the house. Dickens says 
 of one of his humorous characters that ' his very knees 
 winked '; but there was a variety and astonishment of 
 expression in every movement of Mr. Gough that lit- 
 erally beggars description." 1 
 
 In the midst of what in another might have seemed 
 extravagance, there was a steady self-command which 
 enabled him to ride the storm he raised. He was not 
 like Falstaff, who in a double sense made a butt of 
 himself, first, by swallowing so much sack, and 
 secondly, by conceit. Good sense and wisdom, eleva- 
 tion and enthusiasm, marked both wit and pathos. 
 His description comprehended everything character, 
 mode of dress, peculiar gestures, different humors, 
 style of speaking and writing, down to the last detail. 
 
 1 Miss Frances E. Willard's description, quoted in " A Knight 
 That Smote the Dragon," pp. 150, 151,
 
 ON THE PLATFORM. 109 
 
 He was an animated photographic apparatus, talking 
 and acting pictures. His transitions of mood were 
 lightning-like in their rapidity. He amused and in- 
 structed, fired and sobered, by his coincidences, com- 
 parisons, combinations, in a single breath. The man 
 was a galvanic battery, and electrified his hearers. 
 
 An English traveler, then in Philadelphia, was at- 
 tracted to hear Gough while these meetings were in 
 progress. He went not expecting much, for he had 
 heard the great orators of England. We quote a few 
 words from his account: 
 
 " It was the most awfully interesting biography I ever lis- 
 tened to. ... At one moment he convulsed the audience 
 with merriment, then, as if by touch of an enchanter's wand, he 
 subdued them to tears. It was a wonderful display of his 
 power of the feelings and passions; and yet, with all, there 
 was so much of humility, that one knew not which most to ad- 
 mire the man or his matter. Mr. Gough is an admirable 
 mimic, and tells a story with more point than, Charles Mat- 
 thews excepted, any other story-teller I ever listened to. ... 
 Taken altogether, it may be safely said that he is one of those 
 men whom the Almighty calls out, at certain periods, to wage 
 His battles and effect great moral reforms." ' 
 
 It was in 1845, that the first "Autobiography" ap- 
 peared. Gough dictated it to a friend, a short-hand 
 writer, as he paced the room talked and walked it off. 
 The booklet (it has less than 150 pages) ran through 
 more than thirty editions. 'Tis admirably done, and 
 cantains pathos and humor enough to make and pre- 
 serve the reputation of the author, had he done noth- 
 ing more. 
 
 1 First " Autobiography," Boston 1855, p. 149, sq. Appendix.
 
 II. 
 
 THE " DOCTORED " SODA-WATER. 
 
 THOSE who have lived for others, and striven to 
 make the world better, have usually lived as martyrs. 
 Mr. Gough appeared to be an exception to the rule. 
 His popularity was so great from the beginning to 
 the end, the crowds he drew were so enormous that 
 many who saw him only on the stage of action 
 thought his career was a /<?/<?, a generation long. 
 Those who looked behind the scenes knew better. 
 His enemies were among the bitterest of their ilk, 
 and from the outset, detractors made him a target to 
 practise at 
 
 Mr. Gough was of an oversensitive disposition. 
 Enmity and detraction pierced his heart as though 
 they had been arrows. He winced, and showed that 
 he was hit a fact well known in the camp of his foes, 
 and of which advantage was taken to continue or 
 inflame the torture. It is to the credit of the 
 reformer that, though he winced, he did not swerve. 
 He maintained the manner of life which brought him 
 into inevitable collision with wicked men by disturb- 
 ing their plans, or with selfish co-laborers by out- 
 dazzling their dimness. 
 
 His vulnerable spot was his former life the heel 
 of Achilles, whither the arrows flew. Human nature
 
 THE "DOCTORED SODA-WATER. Ill 
 
 is various, and some varieties do seem superfluous ! 
 Certain critics of Gough really disbelieved in the 
 genuineness of his reformation, of any such reforma- 
 tion, and said that he had only added hypocrisy to 
 his original vice. Others pretended to disbelieve. 
 Lies swarmed about his pathway, most of them accu- 
 sations of drinking on the sly. A liquor-seller at 
 Newburyport, for instance, asserted that Mr. Gough 
 had stopped to drink in his restaurant on the way 
 from one of his temperance lectures to the train. He 
 was forced by a threat of legal proceedings to retract 
 this lie, and apologize for it. But where one liar was 
 caught, a dozen escaped, and lied on. 
 
 Worse yet; attempts were made to entrap him into 
 inconsistent and vicious conduct, and thus destroy 
 his reputation. One of these had well-nigh suc- 
 ceeded. 
 
 Mr. Gough went to New York City in the autumn 
 of 1845 ^0 map down his route and arrange his dates 
 for the approaching winter. He arrived at 6: 30 
 o'clock; went to a hotel; supped; left word at the 
 office that he might not return that night, as he was 
 going to Brooklyn to visit friends; strolled out upon 
 Broadway; entered a store or two, and made trifling 
 purchases; resumed his stroll; and was accosted by a 
 stranger. 
 
 "Good-evening, Mr. Gough." 
 
 It was now near eight o'clock. Mr. Gough did not 
 recognize the speaker, and said so. 
 
 " Well, I used to know you years ago, when you 
 worked in this city," said he. " My name is Williams 
 Jonathan Williams." 
 
 The time referred to was several years back; the
 
 112 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 man appeared honest. Gough was unsuspicious 
 indeed there seemed no occasion for suspicion. The 
 lecturer made a cordial response. 
 
 "You have got into a new business since we worked 
 together," continued " Williams," as he walked on 
 beside the former bookbinder. 
 
 " Yes," replied Gough; " I'm giving my time to 
 temperance." 
 
 " I suppose," said " Williams," " you are so good 
 and proud now that you'd not drink a glass of soda 
 with an old shopmate." 
 
 " Oh, yes, I would," was the hearty answer. 
 
 They were then opposite a drug-store, and both 
 stepped in. There was a crowd around the fountain. 
 
 " Oh," said " Williams," " we can't get served here. 
 I know a better place." 
 
 They went out, sauntered down Chambers street 
 to Chatham, and entered another store. This time 
 they got their soda-water; " Williams," handing 
 Gough a glass, with his hand over the top of it, which 
 the latter thought rude, though he suspected nothing 
 at the moment. They left together and soon parted. 
 In a short while Gough, although out of doors, became 
 dazed, lost his way, and was abducted and secreted 
 for nearly a week, being found in a disreputable 
 house in Walker street, in a stupor. 
 
 Friends bore him away to Brooklyn, his objective 
 point when he quitted the hotel on the evening of 
 September 5th. Here, at the residence of Mr. and 
 Mrs. Hurlbut, he was tenderly nursed. Mrs. Gough 
 was sent for. The lost was found, and in good hands 
 again. 
 
 Of course, this dramatic episode caused wide-spread
 
 THE "DOCTORED SODA-WATER. 113 
 
 comment. Gough's enemies were jubilant. A search- 
 ing inquisition was made, however, by a committee 
 of the Mount Vernon Church, specially appointed for 
 the purpose ; whose report completely exonerated 
 Mr. Gough. The physician who treated him in 
 Brooklyn testified that he found abundant evidence 
 of drugging. The public press at the time generally 
 denounced the abduction. Gough was robbed in 
 that den but not of his good name. 
 
 Probably, "Williams" followed his victim to New 
 York, as he disappeared and was never detected. 
 He "doctored" the soda-water when he passed it 
 with his hand over the rim. Confederates watched the 
 drugged man after the parting. When they saw him 
 bewildered they plied him with liquor, and guided 
 him to the place where he was finally discovered. 
 
 The case is painful. Circumstances of mystery 
 still surround it. We have not felt called upon to go 
 at length into it, because Mr. Gough has himself 
 done so in documents easily accessible. 1 What was 
 called-^his second "fall" gave his opponents an 
 ad vantage" ot Which they then and lor ^ears after- 
 ward availed themselves. But this was the last cloud 
 on his name. His life for forty years, pure, noble, 
 lived out in the sun, must be permitted to interpret 
 this dark passage. 
 
 It should be added that Mr. Gough confessed to 
 imprudence on this occasion, but never to any guilt. 
 The wife stood by her husband and blamed herself, 
 wife-like, for permitting him for once to go alone to 
 New York. 
 
 111 Autobiography," pp. 195-209. 
 8
 
 114 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 But even had this been a genuine "fall," surprise 
 would be out of place. Temperance may be in the 
 purpose when intemperance is in the conduct. Pathol- 
 ogy and moral science show that the worst action of 
 inebriety is on the will. It shatters the nerves, but it 
 paralyzes the will. Hence, years are often needed 
 for recovery years marked by occasional lapses. 
 The question with regard to a reformed man ought 
 not to be 
 
 " How many times has he fallen ? " 
 
 It should be 
 
 " How long has he stood ? " 
 
 He who comes out of drunkenness and stands forty 
 years, is a moral hero. 
 
 Through the rest of September and the whole of 
 October and November, Mr. Gough lay at the point 
 of death. It was not until the beginning of Decem- 
 ber that he was sufficiently strong to mount the plat- 
 form. 
 
 Thus ended the year 1845.
 
 III. 
 
 " FOOTPRINTS ON THE SANDS OF TIME. 
 
 ANOTHER severe trial awaited Mr. Gough. As time 
 passed he found himself more and more out of sym- 
 pathy with Washingtonianism. He was sincerely 
 attached to that movement, and had occasion to be, for 
 it had rescued him. Its leaders were his close friends. 
 He was its most eloquent exponent. But experience 
 and observation taught him the insufficiency of its 
 methods. He both felt and saw that piety alone 
 clenched the nails which moral suasion drove in. The 
 pledge started the inebriate toward manhood. Man- 
 hood itself, however, involved not one virtue, but 
 many. The ultimate motive was the fear and love of 
 God. This anchored character. Therefore, he intro- 
 duced into his addresses religious appeals, and grad- 
 ually animated the temperance reformation with a 
 new spirit. 
 
 Keen ears and eyes heard everything he said, and 
 watched everything he did. This departure was soon 
 noted. His old associates stood aloof and denounced 
 him. They believed in moral suasion, and in nothing 
 else. They believed the mere wish to break-off intem- 
 perate habits signified in a pledge would save the 
 drunkard. Men hardly steadied into sobriety as- 
 sumed to be teachers instead of sitting as learners.
 
 Il6 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 Such men led the crusade. Success was measured by 
 the number of names signed to the pledge, rather 
 than by the renovated lives that followed the signing. 
 There was jealousy of the Church as a rival institu- 
 tion. The Washingtonians, as a rule, refused to open 
 their meetings with prayer, disowned the Bible, 
 scouted the idea of piety, and were, many of them, 
 avowed freethinkers. Naturally, too, for they were 
 converts of the tavern. A bar-room is a poor divinity 
 hall. 
 
 In reviewing these facts at a later day, Mr. Gough 
 said : 
 
 " Men became leading reformers who were not qualified by 
 experience, or training, or education, to lead, and out of them 
 a class sprung up who became dictatorial, and sometimes in- 
 solent. Irreligious men insulted in some instances ministers of 
 religion who had been hard workers for temperance, reformed 
 drunkards sneered at those who had never been intemperate, 
 as if former degradation was the only qualification for leader- 
 ship. . . . Any remonstrance was construed at once into 
 opposition to the cause itself, rather than to their methods. 
 . . . The temperance cause is not strictly a religious enter- 
 prise, it is a secular movement; but the religious element in 
 it is the measure of its success, and the absence of that element 
 is its decay." l 
 
 In the same connection he remarks : 
 
 " I heard the Hon. Thomas Marshall, of Kentucky, make a 
 ten-minute speech in the Broadway Tabernacle at the close of 
 an address of mine, in which he said : ' Were this great globe 
 one chrysolite, and I were offered the possession of it if I 
 would drink 'one glass of brandy, I would refuse with scorn ; 
 and I want no religion, I want the temperance pledge.' With 
 
 1 " Sunlight and Shadow," pp. 497, 498, and 501.
 
 "FOOTPRINTS ON THE SANDS OF TIME. 117 
 
 that wonderful voice of his he thundered out ' We want no 
 religion in this movement. Let it be purely secular, and keep 
 religion where it belongs.' Poor Tom Marshall, with all his 
 self-confidence, fell, and died at Poughkeepsie in clothes given 
 him by Christian charity." ' 
 
 Apropos, the writer heard this same gifted man 
 lecture on temperance one evening in New Haven, 
 Conn., when he was so drunk he could not stand. 
 He half sat to steady himself upon a table which 
 served for a desk, swinging one leg as he hiccoughed 
 out his sentences, brilliant as the rainbow. Presently, 
 he lost his balance, and fell over the front of the plat- 
 form to the floor four feet below, with the table piled 
 on top of him. The fall sobered Marshall. He reas- 
 cended the platform imperturbable and erect as a 
 grenadier and continued his lecture ! The object- 
 lesson was more effective than the address. Personal 
 piety would have saved the eloquent Kentuckian. 
 
 The Washingtonians accused Gough of a further 
 offense. He advocated a recourse to law not then 
 nor for long years afterwards, with any immediate 
 purpose to apply it, but as a right within the legiti- 
 mate scope of the State. He would occasionally 
 utter sentences like these: 
 
 " Our work has been very much like a game of ten-pins. 
 We have been very busy in picking up the pins, but directly 
 we set them up the liquor-seller has begun rolling the ball to 
 knock them down again. We have picked up the pins and 
 said, ' It is a good work to set them up ' ; but the ball came 
 rolling in again, and knocked them down in every direction. 
 
 1 " Sunlight and Shadow," pp. 497, 498, and 501.
 
 Il8 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 We have buried the dead wood, and new pins have been 
 produced, and the game has gone on. But the cry has gone 
 forth, it has gathered strength, and by-and-by it will be thun- 
 dered in the ears of the Legislature, ' Stop that ball ! ' "' 
 
 To the Moral Suasionists such utterances were 
 gall and wormwood. What fools men are how 
 blind when they have an opinion to maintain, or a 
 prejudice to defend, or a party to serve! As though 
 any weapon, every weapon should not be welcomed 
 in such a war as this against intemperance? 
 
 Mr. Gough's popularity was now a source of dis- 
 comfort to the antiquated reformers, who refused to 
 go on and up to higher ground. They circulated 
 stories to his detriment. One whom he had nursed 
 through delirium tremens wrote a scurrilous pamphlet, 
 entitled " Goughiana," moved to it by so-called tem- 
 perance people. This was given to the public some- 
 times at the doors of Washingtonian halls. The 
 orator was twitted with being a temperance man for 
 " revenue only," his very fees being grudged him 
 although they were small enough in those days, 
 heaven knows! The profits, when he lectured, were 
 large. They went into the treasury of the cause. In 
 1846 his personal receipts only averaged $20.52, and 
 he always paid his own traveling and hotel expenses. 2 
 To the lecturer who received only $3 or $5, this 
 looked extravagant. One Washingtonian newspaper 
 assumed to fix the maximum rate for such lectures 
 for all time to come. " Anything above $5," said this 
 political economist, " is too much, and only tempts 
 
 *" Platform Echoes," p. 618. 4 " Autobiography," p. 247.
 
 "FOOTPRINTS ON THE SANDS OF TIME. " 119 
 
 unprincipled and selfish men to advocate temperance 
 for the sake of money." ' 
 
 Mr. Gough was unnecessarily sensitive to these 
 shafts. Criticisms of his manner (easily caricatured) 
 always annoyed him. But taunts that touched char- 
 acter, as we have remarked in the previous chapter, 
 hurt him beyond most men. No doubt, his remem- 
 brance of the past, of what he had been and done, 
 aggravated this weakness. He was lacking in self- 
 esteem, and had no vanity. Nevertheless, too often 
 for comfort, he wore his heart upon his sleeve for 
 daws to peck at. 
 
 With the bitter came the sweet, mingled as usual 
 in life's mysterious cup. His fame went on rising. 
 His lectures were ovations. Friends, good and true, 
 rallied to his side. He was a king of hearts as well 
 as of the platform. Tens of thousands already dated 
 the commencement of a new life from one or another 
 of his addresses. 
 
 In January, 1846, Mr. Gough was invited to Vir- 
 ginia. Richmond, Petersburg, Portsmouth, and Nor- 
 folk were his centers of work, though other towns 
 were touched. In the latter town he saw what he 
 had never seen before a slave sold at auction, and 
 thus describes the occurrence: 
 
 " Passing through the market, I saw a crowd surrounding a 
 middle-aged colored woman who stood on a barrel, the auc- 
 tioneer below her. I stopped to hear : ' Two hundred and thirty 
 dollars two thirty, thirty, thirty, going ; two thirty, going, 
 going gone!' Yes! there stood a woman, one of God's 
 
 1 Lyman Abbott, in his Introduction to " Platform Echoes," 
 p. 41.
 
 120 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 creatures, a wife and mother, with arms folded and the tears 
 rolling silently down her cheeks, as she quietly and meekly 
 turned at the bidding of the men who surrounded her, to show 
 her arms, her shape, her breast, her teeth, till the sale was 
 accomplished, and the poor creature stepped down from her 
 position before the crowd, transferred from one owner to 
 another, body, mind, and soul for two hundred and thirty 
 dollars. I turned and said to a friend : ' That's the most damna- 
 ble sight ever seen in a Christian country.' I was told I must 
 not say that, and was hastened away." ! 
 
 Later in this same summer of 1846, Mr. Gough re- 
 ceived an invitation to give ten lectures in Lynchburg, 
 Va., signed by the Mayor and one hundred other citi- 
 zens. In the evening after the first address, he was 
 given a mock serenade in front of the hotel at eleven 
 o'clock at night. Some of the party were arrested 
 for disturbing the peace. Upon hearing in the morn- 
 ing that four of them were to be tried at the court- 
 house, he started for that building; was intercepted 
 by a mob; came near being torn in pieces as an 
 Abolitionist; was forbidden to speak again in Lynch- 
 burg; avowed his purpose to lecture on temperance 
 that very night; abashed the crowd by his firm 
 attitude, and managed to retreat from the scene 
 unhurt. 
 
 Night came. The church was packed. Every one 
 expected an outbreak but as Disraeli used to say, 
 " 'Tis the unexpected that happens." The orator en- 
 tered through a window. He seated himself. Prayer 
 was offered. The chairman, a well-known clergyman 
 of the town, introduced him. He rose and came 
 
 " Autobiography," p. 213.
 
 " FOOTPRINTS ON THE SANDS OF TIME." 121 
 
 forward amid suppressed excitement. Entirely self- 
 possessed, he said: 
 
 " I wish you to hear me patiently before you decide what 
 to do with me. I am ready to leave your city to-night by the 
 12 o'clock canal-boat, or I will stay and fulfill my engagement. 
 I was invited here by a committee of one hundred of your citi- 
 zens, headed by the Mayor, to deliver ten lectures on temper- 
 ance. On Sunday night, I asked for arguments on the other 
 side, and got them a brass horn, a tin-pan, an old fiddle, a 
 triangle, a piece of sheet-iron, and one man apparently hired 
 to swear for the occasion, who did his work faithfully. These 
 arguments were almost as good as I expected. I have been 
 threatened with whipping, with being run into the river, with 
 vitriol in my face, and I have been called an Abolitionist. Now, 
 just hear me while I say that there is no gentleman here whose 
 opinion is worth having, who would not despise me heartily if 
 I were not an Abolitionist. You all know I am, and you knew 
 it when you sent for me. But you engaged me to speak on 
 temperance, and I came for that purpose. I have not spoken 
 of your ' peculiar institution ' in public, whatever I may have 
 thought of it. You have introduced the subject, not I, and I 
 should receive and merit your contempt if I swallowed my 
 principles, and told a lie to curry your favor. " 
 
 This manly preface completely won the audience, 
 which voted overwhelmingly that he should stay. 
 The remaining lectures were given, and did much 
 good, hundreds signing the pledge. 
 
 While in Virginia, Mr. Gough had an attack of 
 brain fever, the result of incessant work, super- 
 imposed upon the nervous prostration brought on the 
 preceding autumn by the adventure in New York. 
 Before leaving the State he addressed several large 
 
 1 "Autobiography," p. 218.
 
 122 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 gatherings of the colored people. In one of their 
 churches in Richmond he spoke to 2,500 of them. 
 There they sat so black that one could not have 
 seen them had they closed their eyes ! Turning to a 
 clerical friend, Gough asked: 
 
 " How shall I talk to them ? " 
 
 "Just as you would to white folks," was the 
 answer. 
 
 He did, and found them like any other audience, 
 only more emotional. 
 
 " I said something of heaven," remarked Mr. 
 Gough, " and a tall negro rose and commenced a 
 song. There was a chorus: 
 
 " I'm bound for de land of Canaan, 
 
 Come, go along with me ; 
 We'll all pass over Jordan 
 And sound the jubilee. 
 
 " Den we shall see Jesus 
 
 Come, go along with me ; 
 We're all gwine home together, 
 And will sound the jubilee." 
 
 " I am afraid to say how many verses they sang it 
 seemed like a dozen, and I had quite a rest. Just as 
 I was resuming my speech, a man rose near the pul- 
 pit, and said: 
 
 "' Bredren, just look at me. Here is a nigger dat 
 doesn't own hisself. I belong to Massa Carr, bless 
 de Lord ! Yes, bredren, dis poor ole body belongs to 
 Massa Carr; but my soul is the freeman of de Lord 
 Jesus ! ' " 
 
 1 " Autobiography," p. 219.
 
 "FOOTPRINTS ON THE SANDS OF TIME. 123 
 
 Gough adds: " The effect was magical, and the 
 whole andience shouted: 'Amen!' 'Glory!' ' Bless de 
 Lord! ' I took the opportunity to say: 
 
 " ' There is not a drunkard in the city can say 
 that!'" ' 
 
 Although he had seen slavery in its mildest aspect, 
 the Northerner faced homeward hating the system 
 more than ever. 
 
 An interesting and important part of Mr. Gough's 
 work in these days was the talking to children. This 
 is partly an art, partly a gift. There is danger of 
 talking too high or else of talking too low. In the 
 one case, they lose interest; in the other, they lose 
 respect for the speaker. Mr. Gough was never hap- 
 pier than when before such an audience. He was a 
 great boy himself and understood smaller boys. His 
 graphic mannerisms, anecdotes, mimicry, always 
 won the children, who were among his most enthusi- 
 astic auditors. He organized thousands and thou- 
 sands of them into cold-water armies and similar tem- 
 perance bodies. 
 
 In a characteristic passage he remarks: 
 
 " I have been often touched by the sorrows of the drunkard's 
 child. Pitiful little things they are sometimes. I was asked 
 by a gentleman at whose house I was dining in Washington, in 
 the 'forties, What was the most pitiful sight I ever saw ? 
 After a little thought, I said: 'An old child; a child with 
 wrinkles in its face, that is not yet in its teens; a child made 
 old by hard usage ; whose brow is furrowed by the plowshare 
 of sorrow ; that is one of the most pitiful sights on earth." " 2 
 
 Mr. Gough's record for the five years commencing 
 
 1 " Autobiography," p. 219. * " Autobiography," p. 226.
 
 124 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 with 1847 and ending with 1852, was one of continu- 
 ous lecturing through a dozen States, relieved only 
 by a few weeks' respite in each summer. He was 
 the man with a single theme. He could say of it, 
 however, as the Rev. John Pierpont did, when ac- 
 cused on account of his earnestness for temperance 
 of being a man of one idea, " True, but its a whop- 
 ping big one ! " Moreover, he varied it so entertain- 
 ingly, applied it so practically, connected it with cur- 
 rent affairs so powerfully, and so vitalized it with his 
 own unique personality, that the people, like Oliver 
 Twist, in Dickens's story, never stopped clamoring 
 for " more." 
 
 To follow Mr. Gough in his journeyings would be 
 interesting, but endless as walking in the footsteps 
 of Sue's "Wandering Jew." Out of his budget of 
 experiences we select a few, as samples of the rest. 
 
 On Thursday night, October 21, 1847, temperance 
 was mobbed in Faneuil Hall. Liquor had been freely 
 distributed during the day to " lewd fellows of the 
 baser sort," two hundred of whom were gathered in 
 a corner of the old hall, intent upon mischief. The 
 floor of Faneuil Hall is not seated the people stand. 
 Hence, it will hold twice as many people as could 
 otherwise get in ; and in a time of excitement, the 
 crowd sways to and fro like a field of grain in a 
 wind. , 
 
 This meeting was held by the Boston Temperance 
 Society, whose president, Deacon Moses Grant, was 
 in the chair. After a prayer, he introduced Mr. 
 Gough. Instantly bedlam broke loose. Cheers and 
 counter-cheers for Deacon Grant and for some local 
 liquor-dealers, for Gough, and for Tom, Dick, and
 
 "FOOTPRINTS ON THE SANDS OF TIME." 125 
 
 Harry, were given with a will. Catcalls, singing, 
 and, in a few minutes dancing in a ring formed yon- 
 der in rummy corner made the " confusion worse 
 confounded." 
 
 In this din speaking was impossible. A shout 
 could not be heard across the platform. Mr. Gough 
 made pantomimic appeals in vain. Whiskey had 
 come in for the purpose of mobbing temperance out. 
 
 Heated with liquor and instigated by their leaders, 
 the rowdies passed from noise to violence. A rush 
 was made for the platform, amid cries of " Throw 
 Grant and Gough out of the window! " Members of 
 the society on the platform met the assault resolutely, 
 and pitched the assailants back to the floor as they 
 climbed up. For a while a. regular battle raged, with 
 repeated assaults and repulses, as at Bunker Hill in 
 '76 Gough was reminded of the Diorama whose 
 crank he used to turn. Then the gas was cut off. 
 Hostilities were suspended, but the war of shouts and 
 jeers and oaths went on. After an hour of chaos, a 
 large posse of police came on the scene. Compara- 
 tive order was restored; the gas was turned on; the 
 officers retook their places, and Mr. Gough spoke to 
 an accompaniment of outcries and interruptions which 
 would have embarrassed most orators, but which he 
 met, parried, and turned against the mob with inde- 
 scribable sang froid. 
 
 It was on this occasion that he told his famous 
 stuttering story. One loafer, by his persistent inter- 
 jections and profanity made himself a nuisance all 
 the more so, because a knot of rum-sellers under the 
 gallery enjoyed the fun hugely and encouraged the 
 fellow by laughing loudly at every impudent remark.
 
 126 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 Advancing to the edge of the platform, and address- 
 ing him personally, Gough said : 
 
 " My friend, I pity you ; for you are doing the dirty 
 work of men who dare not do it themselves. You are 
 serving your masters and employers, who stand here 
 in this audience encouraging you in doing what you 
 would never dream of were you not set on by others. 
 You look like a sensible man, and I should like to tell 
 you a story of which you remind me." 
 
 The man broke in with, " Let's have the story." 
 
 " Well, a certain merchant who was a sad stam- 
 merer, had one joke which he related to every one who 
 would listen to him. His clerks had repeatedly heard 
 it and were familiar with it. One day, a stranger 
 came into the store. The merchant accosted him 
 with : 
 
 " ' Can you tell me wh-why it was th-h-at B-B-B- 
 why it wa-was th-that B-B- wh-wh-why it was that 
 B-B ' 
 
 " Seeing his employer's difficulty, one of the clerks 
 said, ' He wants to know if you can tell him why 
 Balaam's ass spoke.' 
 
 " ' Yes,' replied the stranger, ' I guess I can. I 
 reckon Balaam was a stuttering man, and got his ass 
 to do his talking for him! ' ' 
 
 The man laughed loudly with the rest, and soon 
 left the hall. 
 
 This was the last time temperance was mobbed in 
 Faneuil Hall; which, however, was the cradle of 
 mobs, as well as of liberty, when the Abolitionists 
 occupied it. 
 
 Mr. Gough's nervous temperament subjected him 
 to stage fright, of which he was the lifelong victim.
 
 "FOOTPRINTS ON THE SANDS OF TIME." 127 
 
 Fortunately, it always preceded and never accom- 
 panied his efforts. When he was announced to give 
 his one hundred and sixty-first lecture in Boston, he 
 had an attack of this kind which seriously frightened 
 good Deacon Grant. Gough shook with apprehen- 
 sion all day " he could not speak would surely 
 break down had nothing to say was talked out too 
 dry even for a temperance man." 
 
 At night he baulked worse than ever insisted that 
 speaking was an impossibility. He told the Deacon 
 flatly that he would not go to the meeting. After 
 much persuasion he did go, and was introduced. He 
 commenced thus : 
 
 " Ladies and gentlemen : I have nothing to say. It is not 
 my fault that I am here to night. I almost wish I could feel as 
 a gentleman in New York told the people he did when he 
 addressed them ' I am never afraid of an audience,' said he, 
 ' I imagine the people are so many cabbage heads.' I wish I 
 could feel so 
 
 " But no, I do not wish that. When I look into your faces, 
 an assemblage of rational and immortal beings, and remember 
 how drink has debased and dragged down the loftiest and 
 noblest minds, I cannot feel so." 
 
 Having gotten an initial thought, he was off, and 
 spoke gloriously for an hour and a half a human 
 cyclone, with tornado sauce. 
 
 When he sat down, Deacon Grant said rather 
 sharply : 
 
 " Don't you ever frighten me so again ! " ' 
 
 In October, 1848, Mr. Gough's father arrived in 
 America, his son having sent for him. For years the 
 
 1 "Autobiography," pp. 235,236.
 
 128 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 two had lost sight and knowledge of one another. 
 A copy of his son's "Autobiography," had fallen into 
 the father's hands. In this way a correspondence 
 was reopened, and now they were together a meet- 
 ing both sad and joyful. The pale, martyr face of the 
 wife and mother looked down upon the two, and 
 made a pathetic third. And other ghosts of memory 
 and change revisited " the glimpses of the moon." 
 Henceforth until his death, in 1871, at the age of 94, 
 the elder Gough was supported by the younger. 
 
 John and Mary removed from Roxbury to Boston 
 in 1847. In 1848 they wearied of the city, purchased 
 lands in Boylston, Mary's old home, and dear to John 
 as the place where they met ; and here at " Hillside," 
 five miles from Worcester, they resided ever after 
 when at home. 
 
 'Tis a quiet, restful place. The surrounding 
 country is diversified. The house, a two-storied, 
 roomy building, surmounted by a cupola, stands at 
 the head o a long approach, after the English 
 fashion. Here, beyond the easy reach of men, but 
 accessible to those who wished to find them, the 
 Goughs browsed at delightful intervals in their busy 
 life ; and while Mary turned farmer, John went to 
 grass, like Nebuchadnezzar, or read yonder in the 
 cosy library, whose shelves he soon peopled with a 
 choice selection of 3,000 books. As an old book- 
 binder, Mr. Gough was specially fond of fine bind- 
 ings. Many of his books he bound himself as a 
 pastime. His tastes led him in study to history, biog- 
 raphy, essays, and art. In these departments, there- 
 fore, his library was exceptionally rich. The duties 
 which called this couple away from "Hillside ' to
 
 "FOOTPRINTS ON THE SANDS OF TIME. 129 
 
 endure the discomforts of travel, the bare rooms of 
 hotels, and the fatigue of life on the platform, 
 had need to take sharp hold upon the conscience 
 and the heart, else had they not budged from their 
 bucolics. 
 
 Mr. Gough's habit at this period was to give, not a 
 single lecture in a place, as in Lyceum days, but con- 
 tinuous courses of lectures ; for instance, five at 
 Rochester, eighteen at Buffalo, ten at Detroit. The 
 number of lectures in any course was a matter of 
 agreement. The average fee was less than $25 a lec- 
 ture through the whole of the lecturer's first temper- 
 ance decade. 
 
 In the fall of 1850 the Goughs spent some time in 
 Canada, courses of twelve lectures being given in 
 Montreal, eight in Quebec, six in Kingston, ten in 
 Toronto, and seven in Hamilton. At several of 
 these towns there were English garrisons. These 
 Mr. Gough was invited to address. His father's long 
 and honorable connection with the army drew his 
 heart out toward these men, many of whom signed 
 the pledge in response to his appeals and kept it, 
 too, as he learned long years afterwards. One day, in 
 Boston, Deacon Grant asked Gough to call upon two 
 young ladies who desired to see him but let him tell 
 about it : 
 
 " I went to the house, was shown into a room, and received 
 by a young lady who motioned me to a seat. As I sat there 
 for a few moments waiting for her to speak to me, I gave a 
 glance around the room. There were evidences of better days 
 ' lang syne,' though I shivered, for there was no fire in the 
 grate, and the weather was cold. The young lady spoke : 
 
 " ' Mr. Gough, my sister intended to meet you with me, but 
 
 9
 
 130 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 she has sprained her ankle and is unable to see you. My 
 mother has been confined to her room for many weeks, and to 
 her bed for some days. Oh, sir, it is hard for a daughter to 
 speak of a father's intemperance; but what can I do ? I have 
 sent for you as a last resort. My father is good and kind when 
 free from drink ; but when under its influence is cruel he 
 actually robs us of the common necessaries of life and I 
 would not ask you to sit in a cold room, had we materials for a 
 fire.' 
 
 " I involuntarily glanced at the piano. She noticed it, and 
 said quickly : 
 
 " ' You may think that pride and poverty go together ; and 
 they do. You wonder why I do not sell my piano. I cannot 
 sell it. My father bought it for me on my birthday years ago. 
 It is like an old friend. I learned to play on it. Mother loves 
 to hear the tunes that remind us of days gone by I fear for 
 ever. My father has asked me to sell it ; and suppose I did ? 
 It would but procure him the means of intoxication for a time, 
 and we should be little better off.' 
 
 " I left them. Deacon Grant sent them provisions and fuel. 
 In a day or two I called again. The father was there. After 
 a short conversation, he said, to my surprise : 
 
 " ' Mr. Gough. have you a pledge with you ? ' 
 
 " ' I have.' 
 
 " ' I will sign it.' 
 
 " I immediately produced it ; he at once wrote his name, and 
 stood up, free ! I watched the young girl, when he said ' I will 
 sign.' She clasped her hands, and stood with eager eyes and 
 lips apart, watching the pen. She seemed breathlessly anxious 
 till the name was recorded ; then she sprang to him, twined 
 her arms as well as she could around his neck (she was a little 
 creature); and oh, how she clung to his breast. Then, unclasp- 
 ing her hands, she said : 
 
 " ' Oh, father, I'm so proud of you. Mr. Gough, he has 
 signed it ; and he'll never break it, I know him ; he'll never 
 break it. No, no, my father will live a sober man. Oh, father ! 
 Oh, father!'
 
 "FOOTPRINTS ON THE SANDS OF TIME. 131 
 
 " The tears were raining down her cheeks, as he passed his 
 hand caressingly over her face. Then she said : 
 
 " ' Father, you spoke of selling the piano. We can sell it 
 to-morrow, and what it brings will pay what we owe, and we 
 shall have something to start with again. Sha'n't we, father ? ' 
 
 " Yes, that poor heart was comforted. Now she would give 
 up her piano cheerfully. Why ? Because her father would 
 live a sober man." l 
 
 Early in 1851 Mr. and Mrs. Gough set out for Cin- 
 cinnati, Ohio. It was in the early days of railroads. 
 These annihilators of time and distance were as yet 
 infrequent. The stage-coach and the steamboat, 
 beyond the Atlantic seaboard, were still the reliance 
 of passengers. At Cumberland, Md., our couple had 
 to " stage it " to Pittsburgh, over a road deep with 
 winter mud and slush. They intended to take the 
 boat at Pittsburgh down the Ohio to Cincinnati. 
 Opportunities for work unexpectedly opened in Pitts- 
 burgh, however, and detained them two weeks there 
 and in Alleghany City, icross the river ; and sixteen 
 lectures resulted in the securing of between four and 
 five thousand signatures to the pledge. 
 
 Thence they proceeded to Cincinnati, where they 
 met and became intimate with that patriarch of tem- 
 perance, Dr. Lyman Beecher, then at the head of 
 Lane Seminary. 
 
 Mr. Gough spoke to the usual crowds. "Several 
 times," he writes, " I was compelled to obtain an en- 
 trance to the church by the window. Once a ladder 
 was placed against a window back of the pulpit. I 
 hesitated as the feat of climbing seemed dangerous. 
 
 1 "Autobiography," pp. 263-265.
 
 132 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 Dr. Lyman Beecher said : ' I'll go first ; follow me.' 
 Encouraged by his success, I ventured. It was 
 comical to see the doctor drive his hat more firmly on 
 his head as he prepared for the ascent ; but, taking a 
 firm hold, up he went, chuckling to himself all the 
 way." ' 
 
 Wesley Chapel, the largest audience-room in the 
 city, was overfilled more than twenty times! "I 
 spoke also," says the lecturer, " to firemen, to chil- 
 dren, to ladies, and visited schools. At Wesley Col- 
 lege I made an address, and was asked by a young 
 lady to write the pledge in her 'album ' ; I did so ; 
 when another and another brought albums till I had 
 written in one hundred and forty-three of these 
 books. I often in my travels see one of these albums 
 with the writing in it: and it recalls very pleasantly 
 the delightful afternoon I spent at Wesley College." * 
 
 Later in 1851 Mr. Gough delivered a course of nine 
 lectures in Halifax, Nova Scotia. Here he addressed 
 a muster of the famous Forty-Second Regiment of 
 Highlanders. In referring to it, he says : 
 
 " In passing through the city I had noticed a sign hung up 
 in front of a 'ow clrinking-house with a daub of a picture, rep- 
 resenting a half-intoxicated soldier in the Highland costume, a 
 bottle in one hand and a pipe in the other, with the words 
 'The Jolly Highland Soldier,' in red letters beneath. In the 
 course of my talk to the soldiers, I told them what I had seen, 
 and asked them if the publican dared to exhibit the picture of 
 a drunken lawyer, or doctor, or minister, or even a' jolly High- 
 land Officer ? No 1 He associated the Highland soldier, with 
 drunkenness. It was an insult to them and to the 'garb of old 
 
 1 "Autobiography," p. 271. 8 'Autobiography," p. 271.
 
 " FOOTPRINTS ON THE SANDS OF TIME." 133 
 
 Gaul,' of which they were so proud. The next day the sign 
 disappeared ! A deputation of the men had waited on the 
 proprietor with a very emphatic request that the offensive sign 
 should be taken down." ' 
 
 In the course of an address at Colburg, Canada, the 
 orator made a violent gesture and t r r r r rip 
 went his coat down the back from collar to skirt. 
 Every one laughed but the speaker. He did not see 
 the fun at the moment. He could not speak without 
 gesture. Now he did not dare to move his arms, for 
 then the garment fell forward most absurdly. That 
 torn coat quite spoiled his speech. Before he left 
 town he was presented with a new one ; whereupon 
 he said : 
 
 " I thank you for your gift ; and now as this is the 
 result of my accident, I wish I had torn my trousers, 
 too ! " 
 
 On another occasion, when he was speaking in the 
 Church of Dr. Beman, in Troy, N. Y. (a giant of the 
 pulpit, physically as well as mentally), a gas-burner 
 began to blow. The good clergyman rose softly and 
 stepped behind Gough to turn it down, just as he 
 threw back his clenched fist; Dr. Beman received the 
 blow full in the face. When Gough apologized, he 
 said : 
 
 " Remember, sir, you are the first man who ever 
 struck me with impunity." 
 
 These were the high-water days of temperance. 
 Since 1843, when Gough signed the pledge, there had 
 been a revolution in public sentiment. Drunkenness 
 was no longer the rule, nor even the fashion. Liquor- 
 
 1 "Autobiography," pp. 272, 273.
 
 134 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 selling was disreputable. Bars were screened. Ob- 
 trusive decanters were banished from private buffets. 
 It was not high noon ; but it was 10.30 o'clock by the 
 pointers on the dial of reform, and the " good time 
 coming " seemed destined to chime twelve within 
 another decade. 
 
 In a free country social reforms are certain to work 
 into politics. 'Tis thus that results are funded, put 
 out at interest, and made to yield a revenue of right- 
 eousness. So now the temperance convictions of the 
 people were stereotyped into statutes. Local-option 
 laws were in force in Pennslyvania had been since 
 1843. In 1851, Neal Dow, a name synonymous with 
 prohibition, pushed the legislature of Maine to adopt 
 " the Maine Law," so-called, a law which has been 
 the pattern of prohibitory legislation ever since. 
 Massachusetts and Vermont passed similar statutes 
 in 1852. 
 
 It would be folly to ascribe these successes to any 
 one reformer. The sources of a river lie in many 
 springs. Multitudes of good men and true (some of 
 them " mute, inglorious Miltons," whose names are 
 " unhonored and unsung"), contributed to swell the 
 temperance tide. Among them all, it is safe to say 
 that John B. Gough stands preeminent. His ad- 
 vocacy made an epoch. He transferred temperance 
 from the schoolhouses to the churches. He attracted 
 to it influential names which had looked askance and 
 stood aloof. He made it popular before vast assem- 
 blages, drawn together to laugh at Gough's stories, 
 but taught before they were dismissed to hate the 
 drink. 
 
 'Tis true that he did not then, nor until a good deal
 
 "FOOTPRINTS ON THE SANDS OF TIME." 135 
 
 later, set as much value as others did upon prohibi- 
 tory law. He assented to the principle of prohibi- 
 tion. His motto was, ' Kindness, sympathy, and 
 persuasion for the victim for the tempter, law." 
 But he emphasized the first part, rather than the 
 second half, of this motto. There were two reasons 
 for this : one, philosophical ; the other, tempera- 
 mental. Mr. Gough was a good deal more of a phi- 
 losopher than he got credit for being. He understood 
 America and England. He knew that in either 
 country a statute is not worth the paper it is printed 
 upon unless it has behind it a friendly and executive 
 public opinion. Law cannot execute itself. If the 
 law officers evade it, and the people hold it in disfavor, 
 of what use is the most wholesome statute? The 
 laws against theft, arson, adultery, murder, are meas- 
 urably enforced, because these offenses are under the 
 frown of public opinion. 
 
 Hence he felt free to follow the temperamental im- 
 pulses of his nature, and go on with his special call- 
 ing, viz., the creation of temperance sentiment. This 
 would not only make temperance law, but enforce it. 
 A great speaker, he naturally gave himself, perhaps 
 too onesidedly for awhile, to moral advocacy. It 
 may be, also, that he set his mark too high, when he 
 said : " Do not expect prohibition until you have 
 four-fifths of the community on your side." At any 
 rate, there must be a good working majority for pro- 
 hibition before it can be made operative. Meantime, 
 Cough's example is a good one to follow work for 
 the creation of that majority.
 
 PART VI. 
 
 The First Visit to Great Britain 
 
 " England, with all thy faults I love thee still." 
 COWPER, The Task, Book II.
 
 I. 
 
 THE DBUT IN LONDON. 
 
 FORTY years ago news did not travel quite as 
 rapidly as it does in these electric days ; but it went 
 fast enough to carry the name and fame of John B. 
 Gough to those who were stationed on the watch- 
 towers of public observation across the sea. Nor were 
 American books and speakers as highly appreciated 
 over there then as they are now. It was a flattering 
 tribute to the ability of the Yankee reformer that the 
 leaders of the temperance cause in Great Britain so 
 quickly noticed the remarkable results attendant upon 
 his career three thousand miles away ; and credit- 
 able, also, to their own perspicacity. 
 
 The Macedonian cry, "Come over and help us," 
 had been echoing from the other side of the Atlantic 
 and sounding in Mr. Gough's ears for months. To 
 these appeals he was long deaf. He was happy and 
 useful here ; why go there ? Could the need be 
 greater abroad than it was at home ? Besides, with 
 habitual modesty, he thought his style of speaking 
 would not please the English and Scotch people. 
 They liked argument ; he was intuitional. H-e did 
 not realize the splendor of his own powers. What 
 men do with ease they seldom value. 
 
 For these and other reasons Mr. Gough replied to
 
 140 JOHN B. GOUG.T. 
 
 the British overtures, as the Shunammite did to 
 Elisha, "I dwell among mine own people." 
 
 There is great virtue in persistency and it is an 
 English virtue. The more he declined the more 
 pressing they became. Accordingly, like some young 
 ladies who say "Yes" to ardent swains, " to get rid 
 of them," Mr. Gough, in the spring of 1853, mailed an 
 agreement to visit Great Britainan~zi-9jid the summer 
 vacation there, provided the London Temperance 
 League, whose committee had been in correspond- 
 ence with him, would agree to pay Mrs. Gough's and 
 his own expenses to and fro, including one week in 
 Paris and another down at Sandgate. He thought 
 this proposition would not be accepted further proof 
 of his modesty. It was, though, and eagerly. Thus 
 it was arranged that he should have a summer trip 
 abroad, and pay for it by six weeks' service to the 
 League. 
 
 The mercurial reformer had scarcely signed the 
 agreement before his heart failed him he could not, 
 would not go he was sure the Britons would dislike 
 him failure was foreordained. Dr. Lyman Beecher 
 was visiting the Goughs at " Hillside " at the time, 
 and he laughed at and scolded John (as he familiarly 
 called him) by turns. 
 
 "Very well," said Gough ; "I will go, if I must ; 
 but I've borrowed $250 to make myself independent 
 of the League ; and if I do fail in my first speech, I 
 shall come back by the next steamer ! " 
 
 Deacon Grant, too, and other friends, encouraged 
 the despondent advocate and "Mary" was at his side. 
 
 They sailed in the steamer America on the 2oth of 
 July, and reached Liverpool on the 3oth, after a
 
 THE D15BUT IN LONDON. T/J.T 
 
 pleasant voyage, during which the wife was seasick 
 while the husband was not. On the tug which took 
 them ashore they met a deputation of temperance 
 friends, headed by Smith Harrison, Esq., a Liverpool 
 merchant, who gave the visitors an English welcome, 
 and escorted them five miles out of the city to the 
 residence of a wealthy Quaker, Charles Wilson, where 
 they slept that night in the prophet's chamber, 
 senenaded by thrushes on the lawn, and couched in 
 delicious peace. 
 
 The next day, August ist, they took the train for 
 London, over the Northwestern Railway, which runs 
 through a picturesque country, typically English 
 " rich, green foliage ; hedge rows, new to American 
 eyes ; clumps of trees artistically planted ; agricul- 
 ture in perfection ; magnificent mansions of landed 
 proprietors ; cottage homes of laborers ; and here 
 and there a half-ruined castle, or the romantic re- 
 mains of some fine old abbey." After four or five 
 hours spent in the enjoyment of this beautiful pano- 
 rama as it unrolled before their eyes an experience 
 "new and yet familiar " to John, new and unfamilar 
 to Mary, but " linked sweetness long drawn out" to 
 both the travelers whirled into London. 
 
 Here, again, they were met, warmly greeted, and 
 carried to the house of George Cruikshank, between 
 whom and John Gough (as the English preferred to 
 call him) in was a case of love at first sight. Mr. 
 Cruikshank was then in the fulness of his fame as an 
 artist, and was equal master of pencil and brush. As 
 a caricaturist without a rival in his day, he displayed 
 his fertile imagination and comic humor in illustra- 
 tions each one of which would create a laugh under
 
 142 JOHN B. GOT'GH. 
 
 the ribs of death. He was, withal, a great friend of 
 temperance, and let the fact be known at a time when 
 temperance and fanaticism were synonymous. His 
 moral courage equaled his genius. Gough and 
 Cruikshank were drawn together by kindred tastes 
 and feelings. One was the Gough of art, the other 
 was the Cruikshank of speech. Gough owned and 
 showed at " Hillside " the finest collection of Cruik- 
 shankiana extant more extensive even than the one 
 in the British Museum. 
 
 It had been arranged that Mr. Gough should enter 
 at once upon a temperance campaign. He was to 
 speak first in Exeter Hall, London, on Tuesday even- 
 ing, August zd, the day after his arrival in London 
 pretty quick work ! After this the list of engage- 
 ments was continuous through the month, with the 
 Sundays alone set aside for rest. 
 
 The Executive Committee of the London Temper- 
 ance League had engaged Mr. Gough on his Amer- 
 ican reputation. Not one of them had heard him. 
 But they wisely determined that the responsibility of 
 failure, if failure there should be, should rest upon the 
 orator, rather than upon the committee. They, there- 
 fore, advertised him magnificently sent his "Autobio- 
 graphy " out by thousands of copies arranged a 
 course of lectures on Gough's life and mission 
 by a competent English speaker, enlisted the press, 
 got the ear of litterateurs, secured the aid of the clergy 
 and, in brief, stood the United Kingdom on tiptoe 
 with expectation. Failure in such circumstances 
 meant ruin success insured limitless opportunities 
 for usefulness. 
 
 How did Mr. Gough meet these high expectations?
 
 THE DBUT IN LONDON. 143 
 
 To the surprise of the Leaguers, he did not seem to 
 understand the situation. For example, he passed 
 the whole of the zd of August in riding about London 
 on top of an omnibus, pointing out to " Mary " the 
 Bank, the Mansion House, St. Paul's, Temple Bar, 
 the Strand, Fleet street, Westminster Abbey, the 
 Houses of Parliament, and a hundred other objects of 
 interest as the 'bus rolled along ; in admiring a Punch- 
 and-Judy show (of all things in the world); in undig- 
 nified explorations and exclamations, which quite 
 horrified the staid escort provided by the League 
 and this when he was to put his reputation to the 
 touch that very night, " to gain or lose it all." There 
 was consternation among the Leaguers. They did 
 not know what to make of this " boy let loose from 
 school " nor of his female pal. They would have 
 been better pleased had their protege shut himself up 
 in serious preparation for the ordeal that awaited him 
 and them as his sponsors. 
 
 Gentlemen, calm yourselves ! Your orator, had he 
 been the profoundest of philosophers, could not have 
 hit upon a better method than the one he used. His 
 facts were all in hand. His speech was in his mind 
 and heart. What he needed was recreation, the 
 husbanding of mental and moral vitality, until he 
 could pour it out in the molten lava of volcanic 
 speech. Those loiterings amused him, and kept his 
 thoughts off of himself and the impending dtbut ; no 
 matter, therefore, about the annoyance of the com- 
 mittee they were not to lose or save the day. 
 
 Exeter Hall, where Mr. Gough had consented to 
 begin his English work, was the headquarters of phi- 
 lanthropy in Great Britain. It occupied in London
 
 144 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 the position held in Boston by Faneuil Hall. The 
 foremost orators of the Anglo-Saxon race in the nine- 
 teenth century had taught its echoes the sweetest of 
 all music eloquent human speech. Here Brougham, 
 Canning, George Thompson, Henry Vincent, Daniel 
 O'Connell, and John Bright, had addressed popular 
 parliaments, to whose behests the official assembly 
 yonder in Westminster had been compelled to bow. 
 The air of the place was suggestive of the loftiest 
 names and aims in contemporaneous history would 
 stifle a small man and inspire a great one. 
 
 Exeter Hall stands on the Strand, is entered through 
 a spacious door, beyond which a wide stairway leads 
 into the auditorium, where 3,000 people may be com- 
 fortably seated. On that 2d day of August, 1853, 
 the crowd began to gather as early as 4 o'clock P.M. 
 At 6 o'clock the doors were opened ; the hall was 
 filled in five minutes. At 8 o'clock, when the meeting 
 began, thousands were being turned away. 
 
 It was what the journals called a " respectable " 
 audience meaning by that term that it was com- 
 posed of prominent and influential men and women 
 and this although London in August is as empty 
 Of the " respectable " classes as any great American 
 city would be at the same season. Many had come 
 into town for the occasion. Representatives of the 
 best brain and heart of Great Britain were in the 
 seats and on the platform. The skill and suc- 
 cess of the Executive Committee as advertisers 
 were abundantly vindicated. Now how about the 
 orator ? 
 
 J. S. Buckingham, the president of the League, was 
 in the chair. As the speaker came forward he was
 
 THE D^BUT IN LONDON. 145 
 
 received with a tumult of cheers which Gough said 
 " took his breath away." He adds : 
 
 " While Mr. Buckingham was making the introductory 
 speech I reasoned within myself ' Here are 3,000 men and 
 women wrought up to excitement and surely doomed to disap- 
 pointment. They expect a flight of sky-rockets, and I cannot 
 provide it. No man can address an audience like this success- 
 fully while in such a state. Something must be done.' When 
 I was introduced I began to speak very tamely, knowing that 
 unless they were let down no living man could speak up to 
 their enthusiasm for an hour and a half ; so I continued in that 
 vein until I saw the enthusiasm fade away into disappointment. 
 Then I heard one on the platform groan audibly 'Ah ! h h ! ' 
 another sighed loud enough to be heard 'This'll never do for 
 London.' Then I commenced in real earnest, laid hold of my 
 theme, and did the best I could." ' 
 
 'Tis interesting to compare Mr. Gough's account 
 with the utterances of other competent judges. The 
 Rev. Dr. Campbell, the leading nonconformist of the 
 day, declares : 
 
 " Great as had been the expectations, Mr. Gough surpassed 
 them all. The vast multitude he swayed as with an enchanter's 
 wand. As he willed, it was moved to laughter or melted <nto 
 tears." 
 
 Newman Hall, who sat on the platform, a close 
 observer, said : 
 
 " Demosthenes could not have done more." 
 
 The newspapers the next morning devoted pages 
 to the speaker and the speech. As fair specimens of 
 
 1 " Autobiography," p. 286. 
 10
 
 146 JOHN B. COUGH. 
 
 these descriptions, we quote two the first from the 
 British Banner : 
 
 "Mr. Gough is a well-adjusted mixture of the poet, orator, 
 and dramatist. His manner abounds in changes. The ab- 
 sence of unmitigated vehemence is highly favorable to the 
 economy of strength, and a large measure of repose prevades 
 the whole exhibition. Resting himself, he gives rest to his 
 audience, and hence both remain unwearied till the end. Mr. 
 Gough gave no signs of fatigue last night. At the close of 
 nearly an hour and forty minutes he seemed quite as fresh as 
 when he began, and quite capable of continuing till midnight, 
 rock-crowing, or morning ! No heat even was apparent to 
 us; perspiration was out of the question ; the nandkerchief 
 was never, that we observed, once in requisition throughout 
 the whole of his surprising display. He resembled a clump of 
 Highland heather under the blaze of a burning sun as dry as 
 powder ! It is as natural to him to speak and that on a scale 
 to be heard by the largest auditory as to breathe. It ceases 
 now to be a matter of astonishment that he makes so little of 
 standing up to speak every night in succession, for weeks to- 
 gether, and traveling for that purpose one or more hundreds of 
 miles by day ! There is an utter absence of all mental pertur- 
 bation; before he commences there seems no idea of his being 
 about to do anything at all extraordinary, or, when he has 
 finished, that anything extraordinary has been performed. It 
 seems to be as much a matter of course as walking or running, 
 sitting down or rising up. His self-command is perfect, and 
 hence his control over an assembly is complete. Governing 
 himself, he easily governs all around him. It was impossible 
 for any man to have been more thoroughly at home than he was 
 last night. Like a well-bred man,- once on his feet, there was 
 the absence alike of bashfulness and impudence. 
 
 " The address was entirely without order of any sort nay, 
 for this the assembly was prepared at the outset by the inti- 
 mation that he had never written and never premeditated a 
 speech in his life ! Last night the address was a succession of
 
 THE DEBUT IN LONDON 147 
 
 pictures delivered in a manner the most natural, and hence, at 
 one time, feeling was in the ascendency, and, at another, power. 
 His gifts of mimicry seemed great; this perilous, though valu- 
 able faculty, however, was but sparingly exercised. It is only 
 as the lightning, in a single flash, illumining all and gone, 
 making way for the rolling peal and the falling torrent. 
 Throughout the whole of last night he addressed himself to the 
 fancy and to the heart. We cannot doubt, however, that Mr. 
 Gough is in a very high degree capable of dealing with prin- 
 ciples and of grappling with an adversary by way of argument, 
 but he adopted a different, and, as we think, a much wiser 
 course for a first appearance. The mode of address is one of 
 which mankind will never tire till human nature becomes 
 divested of its inherent properties. He recited a series of 
 strikingly pertinent facts, all of which he set in beautiful pic- 
 tures. Nothing could exceed the unity of the impression, 
 while nothing could be more multifarious than the means em- 
 ployed to effect it. It was a species of mortar-firing, in which 
 old nails, broken bottles, chips of iron, and bits of metal, 
 together with balls of lead anything, everything partaking of 
 the nature of a missile was available. The compound mass 
 was showered forth with resistless might and powerful execu- 
 tion. The great idea, which was uppermost all the evening, 
 was the evils of drinking; and, under a deep conviction of that 
 truth, every man must have left the assembly. 
 
 " The conclusion to which we have come, then, is that the 
 merits of Mr. Gough have been by no means overrated. In 
 England he would take a stand quite as high as he has taken 
 in the United States. There is no hazard now in saying that 
 there will be no disappointment. He will nowhere fail to 
 equal, if not to surpass, expectation; and his triumph will, 
 among Englishmen, be all the more complete from the utter 
 absence of all pretension. His air makes promise of noth- 
 ing ; and hence all that is given is so much above the con- 
 tract. It is impossible to conceive of anything more entirely 
 free from empiricism. From first to last it is nature acting in 
 one of her favorite sons. Oratorically considered, he is never
 
 148 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 at fault. While the vocable pronunciation, with scarcely an 
 exception, is perfect, the elocutionary element is in every way 
 worthy of it. He is wholly free, on the one hand, from heavy 
 monotony, and, on the other, from ranting declamation, properly 
 so-called. There is no mouthing no stilted shouting. His 
 whole speaking was eminently true ; there is nothing false either 
 in tone or inflection ; and the same remark applies to emphasis. 
 All is truth ; the result is undeviating pleasure and irresistible 
 impression. His air is that of a man who never thought five 
 minutes on the subject of public speaking ; but who surrenders 
 himself to the guidance of his genius, while he ofttimes snatches 
 a grace beyond the reach of art. 
 
 " In Mr. Gough, however, there are far higher considerations 
 than those of eloquence, We cannot close without adverting 
 to the highest attribute of his speaking it is prevaded by a 
 spirit of religion. Not a word escapes him which is objection- 
 able on that score. Other things being equal, this never fails 
 to lift a speaker far above his fellows. In this respect, he is a 
 pattern to temperance advocates. He did not, to be sure, 
 preach Christianity; that was not his business; but the whole 
 of his enchanting effusion was in harmony with its doctrines, 
 always breathing its spirit, and occasionally paying it a natural 
 and graceful tribute. At the close, in particular, that was 
 strongly marked. He there stated that the temperance cause 
 was the offspring of the Christian Church, adding that whatever 
 was such was in its own nature immortal, and thence predict- 
 ing the ultimate triumph of the cause in which he was em- 
 barked." 
 
 Our second extract is from the Weekly News, and is 
 an equally excellent pen-portrait of the man and 
 analysis of his power : 
 
 " He is dressed in sober black; his hair is dark, and so is his 
 face ; but there is a muscular vigor in his frame, for which we 
 were not prepared. We should judge Gough has a large 
 share of the true elixir vita animal spirits. His voice is one
 
 THE D^BUT IN LONDON. 149 
 
 of great power and pathos, and he speaks without an effort. 
 The first sentence, as it falls gently and easily from his lips, 
 tells us that Gough has that true oratorical power which neither 
 money, nor industry, nor persevering study can ever win. 
 Like the poet, the orator must be born. You may take a man 
 six feet high, he shall be good-looking, have a good voice, and 
 speak English with a correct pronunciation ; you shall write 
 for that man a splendid speech, you shall have him taught elo- 
 cution by Mr. Webster and yet you shall no more make that 
 man an orator than, to use a homely phrase, you can ' make a 
 silk purse out of a sow's ear.' Gough is an orator born. Pope 
 tells us he ' lisped in numbers,' and in his boyhood Gough 
 must have had the true tones of the orator on his tongue. 
 There was no effort no fluster all was easy and natural. He 
 was speaking for the first time to a public meeting in his native 
 land speaking to thousands, who had come with the highest 
 expectations, who expected much and required much speak- 
 ing by means of the press to the whole British public. Under 
 such circumstances, occasional nervousness would have been 
 pardonable ; but, from the first, Gough was perfectly self- 
 possessed. There are some men who have prodigious advan- 
 tages on account of appearance alone. We think it was Fox 
 who said, it was impossible for any one to be as wise as Thurlow 
 looked. The great Lord Chatham was particularly favored by 
 nature in this respect. In our own time, in the case of Lord 
 Denman, we have seen how much can be done by means of a 
 portly presence and a stately air. Gough has nothing of this. 
 He is just as plain a personage as George Dawson, of Birming- 
 ham, would be, if he were to cut his hair and shave off his 
 mustache. But though we have named George Dawson, 
 Gough does not speak like him, or any other living man. 
 Gough is no servile copy, but a real original. We have no one 
 in England we can compare him to. He seems to speak by 
 inspiration as the apostles spoke, who were commanded not 
 to think beforehand what they should say. The spoken word 
 seems to come naturally as air bubbles up from the bottom 
 of the well. In what he said there was nothing new- -there
 
 150 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 could be nothing new the tale he told was old as the hills ; 
 yet as he spoke an immense audience grew hushed and still, 
 and hearts were melted, and tears glistened in female eyes, 
 and that great human mass became knit together by a common 
 spell. Disraeli says, 'Sir Robert Peel played upon the House 
 of Commons as an old fiddle.' Gough did the same at Exeter 
 Hall. At his bidding, stern, strong men, as well as sensitive 
 women, wept or laughed they swelled with indignation or 
 desire. Of the various chords of human passion he was master. 
 At times he became roused, and we thought how 
 
 " ' In his ire Olympian Pericles 
 
 Thundered and lightened, and all Hellas shook.' 
 
 " At other times, in his delineation of American manners, he 
 proved himself almost an equal of Silsbee. Off the stage we 
 have nowhere seen a better mimic than Gough ; and this must 
 give him great power, especially in circles where the stage is 
 as much a terra incognita, as Utopia, or the Island of Laputa 
 itself. We have always thought that a fine figure of Byron, 
 where he tells us that he laid his hand upon the ocean's mane. 
 Something of the same kind might be said to be applicable to 
 Mr. Gough ; he seemed to ride upon the audience to have 
 mastered it completely to his will. He seemed to bestride it, 
 as we could imagine Alexander bestriding Bucephalus. 
 
 " Gough spoke for nearly two hours. Evidently the audience 
 could have listened, had he gone on till midnight. We often 
 hear that the age of oratory has gone by, that the press super- 
 sedes the tongue, that the appeal must henceforth be made to 
 the reader in his study, not to the hearer in the crowded hall. 
 There is much truth in that ; nevertheless, the true orator will 
 always please his audience, and true oratory will never die." 
 
 It is evident that the excursion of John Gough, on 
 the top of the omnibus, his flirtations with Punch 
 and Judy, and his boyish delight in it all, did not
 
 THE D^BUT IN LONDON. l$t 
 
 destroy his chances on that Tuesday night in Exeter 
 Hall. 
 
 We say to the apprehensive gentlemen of the Ex- 
 ecutive Committee, as Deacon Grant did to Mr. 
 Gough on the occasion referred to in a prior page 
 
 " Don't you ever scare us so again ! "
 
 II. 
 
 " HOW DEAR TO MY HEART ARE THE SCENES OF MY 
 CHILDHOOD." 
 
 THREE more monster meetings in London were 
 addressed by Mr. Gough, another in Exeter Hall, 
 and two in Whittington Club-Room, ere he entered 
 the " provinces," as the the regions outside of the 
 metropolis are indiscriminately named by our English 
 cousins. 
 
 London is England; Paris is France; Berlin is 
 Germany; Vienna is Austria. There is no city in 
 this country which dominates America. New York 
 is the financial center; and a New York reputation 
 in art or literature, is an " open sesame" across the 
 continent. But great names are made without the 
 indorsement of Manhattan Island. Gough himself is 
 a case in point. Indeed, only one illustrious American 
 speaker of the past generation had any connection 
 with New York (Henry Ward Beecher), and he 
 preached in Brooklyn. 
 
 Mr. Gough's London dtbut preannounced him 
 everywhere. Like Byron, he awoke to find himself 
 famous, on the morning after that event. Traveling 
 towards Scotland, he spoke at various places en route, 
 and at Galashiels, in the neighborhood of Melrose 
 and Abbotsford, faced his first audience of Scotsmen,
 
 "HOW DEAR TO MY HEART," ETC. 153 
 
 after the lecture eating salmon " caught in the Tweed," 
 and hearing " Burns's songs sung in the pure Scotch 
 dialect." At Glasgow he spoke to thousands in the 
 City Hall. It was not until the ist of September, 
 that he appeared before the people of Edinburgh. 
 Here he had an ovation, and the visit was memo- 
 rably punctuated by the presence of Dr. Guthrie, 
 Professor Miller, and a host of celebrities his firm 
 friends for ever after. 
 
 This taste of Scotland taught the orator, spite of 
 his dismal forebodings, that human nature is much 
 the same in all lands, with due allowance for super- 
 ficial differences produced by local causes; and that 
 the English and Scotch, notwithstanding their sup- 
 posed predilection for argument, take kindly and 
 respond readily to men of the emotional and pictorial 
 school. 
 
 Encouraged by this discovery, Mr. Gough, took 
 the train at Edinburgh for Liverpool, where he passed 
 a few charming days with Mr. Harrison, the gentle- 
 man who met him on the tug upon his arrival from 
 America. Thence he went to. London, to attend a 
 temperance ffae in Surrey Gardens, and addressed 
 17,000 people his largest audience up to that date. 
 
 The last week in September, he had so far filled his 
 engagements that he felt at liberty to claim and enjoy 
 that long-anticipated visit to Sandgate " dear Sand- 
 gate, down in Kent." This grown-up boy entered it 
 on top of one of those " Valyer " 'buses which had 
 been the awe of his childhood, found in the driver one 
 of his mother's former scholars, rode through the 
 long street in a fever of excitement, as he read the 
 familiar, Dickensesque names on the signs, just as he
 
 154 JOHN B. COUGH. 
 
 remembered them a quarter of a century earlier, 
 " Jimmy Bugg, the cobbler; Reynolds, the baker; 
 Draynor, the fishmonger," scarcely a noticeable 
 change in the whole drowsy stretch. 
 
 Best of all, he was remembered and his mother, as 
 a kind of local divinity. The old friends and play- 
 mates of the past could not greet him warmly enough 
 to satisfy their good hearts, though they hugged and 
 kissed him Mrs. Beatty, in particular, a dear old soul 
 who had comforted " Johnny " with milk and ginger- 
 bread on the eve of emigration. Five never to-be-for- 
 gotten days " Johnny " Gough, as they persisted in 
 calling him, spent among these humble folk and 
 homely scenes. He ransacked the house where he 
 was born from cellar to garret (an easy task) found 
 the very nail on which he used to hang his coat and 
 hat hobnobbed with the keeper of Sandgate Castle 
 now quite decrepit roamed through the town and 
 over the hills to explore anew the haunts of boyhood 
 walked to Folkestone, along the road by the " sad 
 sea waves," to look at the building where he had re- 
 ceived his only schooling (but it was gone !) got out 
 of the present and into the past, as an imaginative 
 and poetic nature could do without an effort and 
 felt a mighty aching sense of grief at the thought of 
 the pauper grave in which she lay with whose memory 
 all these well-remembered scenes were so indissolubly 
 associated. 
 
 Soon he was joined by a party of notabilities from 
 London and elsewhere, to whom he pointed out these 
 same homely scenes and introduced these same 
 humble folk. His father, who had followed him from 
 America, was with him which further helped to
 
 " HOW DEAR TO MY HEART," ETC. 155 
 
 complete the illusion and enchant the years out of to- 
 day and into yesterday. And his friend, Cruikshank, 
 mightily interested, and quite at home in such sur- 
 roundings, sketched Gough's birthplace, and repro- 
 duced the landscape, as an artist might, in many 
 portfolio studies. 
 
 Mr. Gough's pride in his birthplace and fond re- 
 membrance of his boyhood friends, lowly though they 
 were, is not the least praiseworthy of his traits. Re- 
 member, he was in England the home of snobbery. 
 He was famous but near enough to the time " when 
 days were dark and friends were few," to be sensitive 
 on the subject. Here he stood, the admired center 
 of a circle of flatterers. One whose manliness was of 
 less fine fiber would have concealed those bygone 
 experiences, spoken little of Sandgate, and gone 
 thither, if he went at all, alone. This whole episode 
 stirs affection for this man, and reveals his moral 
 altitude. 
 
 But how proud the Sandgaters were of "Johnny" 
 Gough ! How they thronged over to attend his lec- 
 ture at Folkestone ! How they laughed at his wit 
 and cried at his pathos ! What a great man he was 
 as they always knew he would be ! 
 
 This happening was an idyll in their lives and in 
 his life. And Mrs. Beatty ! Mr. Gough gave her on 
 the spot a crisp, new five-pound note $25 in part 
 payment for the milk (of human kindness) and ginger- 
 bread (of affection) which she had given him so long 
 ago ; an amount which he never failed to send her 
 while she lived, at Christmas, in annual installments 
 on account of the " debt."
 
 III. 
 
 HERE, THERE, AND YONDER IN THE BRITISH ISLES. 
 
 UPON the termination of his six weeks' engagement 
 with the League, Mr. Gough was induced to sign a 
 new contract, he agreeing to deliver two hundred 
 lectures, commencing in London on the 3d of October; 
 and they stipulating to pay him at the rate of ten 
 guineas about $50 a lecture and all expenses the 
 best terms he had made thus far. This programme 
 disarranged his American plans ; but he wrote home 
 canceling all outstanding dates, and prepared to give 
 twelve months to temperance in the British Isles. 
 " You must remember, Mr. Gough," his friends said 
 to him, " that you owe something to your native 
 country." This argument, coupled wth the fact that 
 he was accomplishing wonders, persuaded him, at the 
 conclusion of this first vear, to add another on the 
 same terms ; so that his contemplated summer out- 
 ing in 1853, grew into an absence of two years. 
 
 It is not easy work to give two hundred lectures in 
 a year. It means the. fatigue and exposure of con- 
 stant travel, and the excitement and reaction of the 
 platform four or five nights in every week until the 
 advent of warm weather ends the professional season. 
 In Mr. Gough's case there was the added strain of 
 speaking always and everywhere on one subject
 
 HERE, THERE, YONDER, IN THE BRITISH ISLES. 157 
 
 in some instances scores and scores of times in one 
 place and the same hall. The quality of his physical 
 and mental constitution is shown by his endurance. 
 
 Nor did this professional talker merely talk. While 
 his nights were given to the platform, his days were 
 given to hand-to-hand work among the intemperate, 
 He was a great believer in contact in the gospel of 
 hand-shaking. In almost every place he visited there 
 was some hard case too hard for local treatment ; 
 and so this expert was called in for consultation. 
 Thus his faculties were kept in perpetual tension. 
 
 Aside from the good he did to others in these daily 
 excursions to seek and save, Mr. Gough aided him- 
 self. For he was ever enlarging his experiences, and 
 always adding to his stock of incidents, comic and 
 tragic ; and was thus enabled to work into his ad- 
 dresses fresh material which kept them up to date, 
 and imparted to each a local flavor. 
 
 In referring to his labors in the homes of the in- 
 temperate, Mr. Gough says : 
 
 " I know the term ' brute ' is often used in reference to 
 drunkards, but they are not brutes they are men debased, 
 brutalized, if you will; but strip from them the influence of 
 drink, and we find them men, in many cases with hearts as 
 warm, feelings as tender, and sensibilities as keen as others 
 possess. Dickens says of Mrs. Todgers, ' She was a hard 
 woman, yet in her heart, away up a great many stairs, there 
 was a door, and on that door was written, woman.' So in the 
 heart of many a drunkard, away up a great many stairs, in a 
 remote corner easily passed, there is a door. Tap on it gently, 
 again and again persevere ; remember Him who knocks at the 
 door of your heart waiting for an answer till ' His locks are wet 
 with the dew ' and be patient ; tap on, lovingly, gently, and 
 the quivering lips and the starting tear will tell you you have
 
 158 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 been knocking at a man's heart, not a brute's. This power of 
 drink to drain and dry up the fountain of love and affection in 
 the heart is one of the reasons why we should hate it." ' 
 
 In illustration of this truth, he tells this story : 
 
 " A man came to me at Covent Garden and said : 
 
 " ' Mr. Gough, I want you to come into my place of business.' 
 
 '" I'm in a little hurry now,' I replied. 
 
 " ' You must come into my place of business.' 
 
 " So when he got me there into a large fruit-store, where 
 he was doing business to the amount of two hundred and fifty 
 or three hundred pounds ($1,250 or $1,500) a week, he caught 
 me by the hand and said: 
 
 " ' God bless you, sir ! ' 
 
 " What for ? ' 
 
 " ' I heard you in Exeter Hall a year and a half ago, and 
 signed the pledge. I was a brute.' 
 
 " ' No, you were not." 
 
 " ' Well, I was worse.' 
 
 " ' No, you were not.' 
 
 " ' Well, I was as bad as I could be. Look at that cellar ! 
 I spent a whole Sunday in that cellar on a heap of rotten vege- 
 tables with a rope to hang myself by ! Now sir, I lease that 
 cellar and clear a hundred pounds a year. God bless you sir ! 
 See what a business I'm doing. Look here ! See that woman 
 in the corner ? She's my wife. La ! how I have knocked her 
 about. Would you go and shake hands with her ? ' 
 
 "'I've no objection.' 
 
 " ' Do, sir.' 
 
 " ' I went up to her and offered my hand. She held back, 
 and said, ' My fingers are so sticky with the fruit, sir.' 
 
 "'La!' said the husband, 'Mr. Gough don't mind sticky 
 fingers.' 
 
 " ' No, sir,' and I shook hands with her. Our fingers stuck 
 
 1 "Autobiography," pp. 262, 263.
 
 HERE, THERE, YONDER, IN THE BRITISH ISLES. 159 
 
 together ! They were stickier than I expected. Again the 
 man said : 
 
 " ' God bless you sir ! I wish to give you something. Do 
 you like oranges ? ' 
 
 " ' Sometimes.' 
 
 " He went to a shelf that was full of them, and began to 
 fill a great bag. 
 
 '" That's enough,' I said. 
 
 " But he paid no attention, and went on filling the bag. Then 
 he put it in my arms, and said : 
 
 " ' There ! Don't say a word ; but go along. God bless you ! ' 
 
 " I had positively to hire a cab to take me home." ' 
 
 As showing the redemptive power of temperance, 
 and the significance of turning-points, he relates this 
 incident: 
 
 " I had just spoken in the City Hall of Glasgow to 2,500 
 people. I was staying at the house of one of the merchant 
 princes of that city, and when we came down stairs from the 
 Hall his carriage was at the door silver-mounted harness, 
 coachman in livery, footman in plain clothes. You know it is 
 seldom teetotalist lecturers ride in such style, and it is proper, 
 therefore, that we should speak of it when it does happen, for 
 the good of the cause. On reaching the pavement, the merchant 
 said : ' It is so drizzly and cold you had better get into the 
 carriage, and wait there until the ladies come down." I think 
 I never had so many persons to shake hands with me as I did 
 that night. ' You saved my father ! ' said one. ' You saved my 
 brother! ' said another, and a third said : ' I owe everything I 
 am to you ! ' My hands absolutely ached as they grasped 
 them one after another. 
 
 " Finally, a poor wretched creature came to the door of the 
 carriage. I saw his bare shoulder and naked feet ; his hair 
 seemed grayer than mine. He came up, and said : 
 
 1 Speech on " Drinking Usages of Society," pub. by Mass. Tern. 
 Soc'y, 1861.
 
 160 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 " ' Will you shake hands with me ? ' 
 
 " I put my hand into his hot, burning palm, and he said, 
 ' Don't you know me ? ' 
 
 " ' Why,' said I, ' isn't your name Aiken ? ' 
 
 " Yes.' 
 
 " ' Harry Aiken ? ' 
 
 Yes.' 
 
 " ' You worked with me in the bookbinder's shop of Andrew 
 Hutchinson, in Worcester, Massachusetts, in 1842, didn't you?' 
 
 " ' Yes.' 
 
 " ' What is the matter with you ? ' 
 
 " ' I am desperately poor.' 
 
 " I said, ' God pity you ; you look like it ! ' 
 
 " I gave him something, and obtained the services of Mr. 
 Marr, the secretary of the Scottish League, to find out about 
 him. He picks up rags and bones in the streets of Glasgow, 
 and resides in a kennel in one of the foulest streets of that city. 
 When the ladies came to the carriage and got in, I said, ' Stop, 
 don't shut that door ! Look there at that half-starved, ragged, 
 miserable wretch, shivering in the cold and in the dim gas- 
 light ! Look at him ! ' The ring of that audience was in my 
 ears, my hands aching with the grasp of friendship from scores, 
 my surroundings bright, my prospects pleasant, and I said, 
 ' Ladies, look there ! There am I, but for the temperance 
 movement! That man worked with me, roomed with me, 
 slept with me, was a better workman than I, his prospects 
 brighter than mine. A kind hand was laid on my shoulder, in 
 the Worcester street, in 1842; it was the turning-point in my 
 history. He went on. Seventeen years have passed, and we 
 meet again, with a gulf as deep as hell between us ! ' I am a 
 trophy of this movement, and I thank God for it." ' 
 
 Mr. Gough spoke in all the more important towns 
 in England and Scotland; he and Mary putting such 
 intervals of leisure as they had into sight-seeing. 
 
 1 Speech on " Drinking Usages of Society.'
 
 HERE, THERE, YONDER, IN THE BRITISH ISLES. l6l 
 
 Temperance in Great Britain, in 1853-4, was where 
 it had been in America when Gough signed the 
 pledge. Drinking was fashionable. Total abstinence 
 was fanaticism. The Churches, as a rule, were on the 
 wrong side. The clergy defended drinking out of 
 the Bible. It was impossible to get churches to 
 lecture in, or clergymen of repute to preside at tem- 
 perance meetings. Oftener than otherwise, those 
 who entertained Mr Gough had liquor on the table, 
 or if not, bunglingly apologized to the other guests 
 for its absence as due to his " prejudice." There 
 were many splendid exponents of the cause, like John 
 Bright and Joseph Sturge and the Earl of Shaftesbury. 
 But, though many by actual count, they were rela- 
 tively few. Temperance sentiment was confined to 
 the middle classes the upper and lower ignored it. 
 
 The pledge, the great weapon of the temperance 
 movement, was sharply and constantly attacked as 
 " unmanly" "a strait-jacket " " fatal to self-respect " 
 and " destructive to character." 
 
 It was easy to show that the temperance pledge 
 rests upon precisely the same philosophical basis as 
 any and every other sacred promise that all the 
 transactions of civil society rest ultimately upon a 
 pledge. In marriage the bride and groom promise 
 to love, cherish, and honor one another a pledge. 
 On uniting with the Church the member enters into a 
 covenant a pledge. When he goes on the stand a 
 witness in court swears to tell the truth a pledge 
 The grantor in a deed pledges himself by record. 
 The funds of universities and libraries and charitable 
 organizations are held under a pledge a solemn 
 promise to administer them in certain designated 
 ii
 
 162 JOHN B. COUGH. 
 
 ways. Do pledges of these kinds undermine char- 
 acter ? If not, then why does a pledge to abstain 
 from the use of intoxicating liquor as a beverage ? 
 Instead of undermining character, it rebuilds it and 
 fortifies it, as hundreds of thousands can testify re- 
 constructs it as Nehemiah did the ruined walls of 
 Jerusalem, in spite of the scoffs of Tobiah and 
 Sanballat. 
 
 Mr. Gough thought the temperance cause at that 
 time better organized in Great Britain than in 
 America, and believed it to be on a more permanent 
 basis. With reference to the societies then existing, 
 he remarks : 
 
 " No one who attends their annual meetings, their festivals, 
 their weekly assemblies, can fail to he impressed by their 
 earnestness, and I may say their pertinacity in carrying out the 
 objects for which they are organized. Their boards of man- 
 agers and standing committees are thorough, working men, who 
 not only sympathize with temperance, but make it a special 
 business to attend to the interests of the movement. I have 
 been edified by the earnestness manifested at their business 
 meetings, when I was privileged to attend them, and the care- 
 fulness with which they deal with minute details, as well as 
 the broader operations of their societies, the patience with 
 which they master difficulties, and their self-denying efforts to 
 achieve the greatest good effectually. There is, to be sure, 
 some formality in the proceedings especially in their public 
 meetings strange to us in America, and to some annoying ; 
 yet even this has its advantages ; they make the business a 
 serious and earnest one, and the very formality, in a certain 
 sense, gives the proceedings a greater stability than if their 
 arrangements were all carried on at loose ends." ' 
 
 1 " Autobiography," pp. 331, 332.
 
 HERE, THERE, YONDER, IN THE BRITISH ISLES. 163 
 
 The sojourner was charmed with the hospitality of 
 the people. He got an inside view of their domestic 
 life, warm, pure, sweet ; and discovered that they 
 could not do enough for those whom they iidmitted 
 to their firesides. The very children were kindly. 
 He says : 
 
 " One day, when strolling through Edinburgh, I saw a group 
 of young girls standing in front of their school in the Canon- 
 gate, looking toward me on the opposite side of the street. 
 Soon they crossed and walked near me. One of them said very 
 modestly : 
 
 " ' Mr. Gough ha'e ye ony objection to us lassies walking wi' 
 ye?' 
 
 " 'Oh, no,' I responded, 'indeed I have not.' 
 
 "'We've heerd ye speak in the Music Hall, an' we're a' tee- 
 totalers.' 
 
 " Presently they reached the hotel where Mr. Gough was 
 quartered. Here one said : 
 
 '"We'll ye ha'e ony objections to shakin' hands wi' us 
 lassies ? ' 
 
 " As I took their hands, I heard in that sweet, low Scotch 
 tone : 
 
 " ' Ye'll soon be gangin* awa' f rae Edinburgh, and we'll "weary 
 for ye to come back again. Gude-bye to ye.' " J 
 
 Opportunities for special work sometimes presented 
 themselves as in addressing children, ladies, soldiers, 
 and students all eagerly embraced. In the gray and 
 mossy old university town of Oxford, the speaker had 
 a sharp bout with the students who thronged the hall, 
 and who came for fun. For a time he was hard 
 pushed ; but eventually he conquered them by his 
 good humor and evident enjoyment of the racket 
 
 1 " Autobiography," pp. 335, 336.
 
 164 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 they let him conclude in peace. A farewell/^ was 
 held in honor of Mr. Gough, in the grounds of the his- 
 toric " Hartwell House," near London, on the 25th of 
 July, 1855. The enthusiam was great, the sorrow over 
 his impending departure was loud, and the temper- 
 ance leaders and masses were assembled in vast num- 
 bers Horace Greeley (then in Europe) being present 
 as an invited guest. Good-bye speeches were made 
 and suitably answered ; and, loaded down with a 
 massive dinner-service for eighteen of pure silver, 
 presented at the/^, and with numerous other sou- 
 venirs Bibles, silver ink-stands, superb clocks, silver 
 pitchers ; each one significant of some particular ex- 
 perience ; the spoils, not of war but of love John 
 an i Mary Gough embarked for home in August, 1855. 
 
 t was the testimony of all that Mr. Gough's pres- 
 ence and advocacy had set the temperance reform 
 
 ward in Great Britain beyond precedent. As for 
 hi nself, we quote and adopt the language of Lyman 
 
 bott : 
 
 ' We doubt whether modern history records any 
 case of an oratorical triumph more continuous and 
 more extraordinary. Whitefield had the many-sided 
 subject of religion, Mr. Gough but the one theme of 
 temperance. Mr. Beecher's famous English speeches 
 during the Civil War are unparalleled in the history 
 of oratory ; but these were but six, and Mr. Gough 
 spoke almost continuously for two years" 1 between 
 four and five hundred times in all ! And the eager- 
 ness to hear him was greater at the close than at the 
 start. He only got away at last by promising to re- 
 
 1 Introduction to " Platform Echoes."
 
 HERE, THERE, YONDER, IN THE BRITISH ISLES. 165 
 
 turn again in two years for another long campaign 
 in the British Isles. 
 
 Notwithstanding these unprecedented labors, and 
 the exposure and excitement accompanying them, his 
 health was good better when he sailed for home 
 than when he went out.
 
 PART VII. 
 
 At Work in America Again 
 
 " Look up, not down; look out, not in; 
 and lend a hand!" 
 
 EDWARD EVERETT HALE.
 
 I. 
 
 "WESTWARD THE COURSE OF EMPIRE TAKE ITS WAY." 
 
 DEAR " Hillside ! " how good it seemed to this 
 " absentee landlord " to be at home again. Even the 
 "Yankee twang " and the familiar "I guess," and 
 " wal " were like the tones of old friends. Six restful 
 weeks were passed in the lap of idleness. Then the 
 trumpet sounded for battle, and the fray began. 
 
 Mr.Gough's British reputation, reechoed to America. 
 His services were in greater demand than ever. Each 
 mail brought him urgent invitations from all quarters. 
 He had never visited the great Northwest. He deter- 
 mined to do so now, the way having opened. At 
 Philadelphia, on the 4th of October, 1855, he opened 
 the season. That month was devoted for the most 
 part to the State of New York. November was given 
 to New England. On the yth of December, he spoke 
 in Chicago, for the first time. 
 
 The census now shows a population of 1,600,000 in 
 Chicago. The giant is 25 miles tall (along the lake, 
 from north to south), with a depth of chest 10 miles 
 deep (from the lake westward). Its head is cooled by 
 the breezes of the north, charged with ozone. Its 
 feet are planted broad and flat on the prairies, to the 
 south. Its hands are busy with multifarious commer- 
 cial manipulations. Its pockets are stuffed with mer- 
 chandise, and its cheek is words fail !
 
 170 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 With prophetic vision, Mr. Gough foresaw the 
 future in the past. Writing from Chicago at the date 
 referred to, he said : " I found a population of more 
 than 100,000; I have often wished that I could have 
 labored there, and been identified, by my work, with 
 the infancy of what is destined to be a giant among 
 the cities of the world." 
 
 In the same connection he writes : 
 
 " This being- my first view of the Northwest, my impressions 
 were those of wonder, almost amounting to awe, at the vast 
 resources and the certain improvement and power of that sec- 
 tion. I leave it for others, who are able to write of its destiny ; 
 prophets all, and true, when they tell of its progress and swift- 
 coming magnificence for it grows before our eyes almost 
 passing belief, and will grow year by year. Every Christian 
 must look at the West with interest and deep anxiety for the 
 enlightenment of the Western mind, and the establishment of 
 the principles of a pure Christianity. West of the Mississippi 
 what a domain is rapidly coming into settlement and cultivation! 
 What millions must soon occupy the vast territory ! It is for 
 Christians to decide whether these fertile lands shall be over- 
 run with heathenism and infidelity, or be flooded with the light 
 of Christian education. The field is immense the opposing 
 elements to good are powerful, the god of this world is mar- 
 shaling his forces to ' go up and possess the land.' But if all 
 who love righteousness will in Christ's name set up their ban- 
 ners, and come to the ' help of the Lord against the mighty.' 
 the issues of the conflict are sure ; for ' greater is He that is for 
 us than all they that be against us.' We may thus cooperate 
 with God and holy angels in preventing sin, and in establishing 
 His Kingdom in this great gathering- place of the nations. 
 Men and women are laboring for this, full of faith. May our 
 God speed their efforts ! " ' 
 
 1 " Autobiography," pp. 382, 383.
 
 WESTWARD THE COURSE OF EMPIRE," ETC. I?! 
 
 Mr. Gough gave seven lectures in Chicago ; one 
 each in Elgin, Milwaukee, Waukegan, Bloomington, 
 Springfield, Alton; and then took the cars for St. Louis 
 (also a first visit), where he lectured six times. 
 
 Returning to the East, he resumed work in New 
 York, New Jersey, Connecticut, Rhode Island, New 
 Hampshire, and Maine, besides speaking in all the 
 large cities of the Atlantic seaboard. It was not 
 until June 2d that he unbuckled the harness to enjoy 
 a well-earned vacation at " Hillside." 
 
 When at home Mr. Gough usually attended church 
 at Boylston. Worcester was conveniently near, but 
 he felt that Boylston needed him. During the sum- 
 mer of 1855, the church there was without a pastor. 
 He acted, ad interim, as pulpit supply, Sunday-school 
 superintendent, sexton, and parson. Calling to his 
 aid influential clerical friends, he agreed to " board 
 and lodge them " if they would preach on designated 
 Sundays. These offers were accepted, and Dr. Kirk 
 (his Boston pastor), Dr. T. L. Cuyler, Dr. Dutton, and 
 Dr. George Gould were successively heard in the 
 Boylston pulpit. Between himself and Dr. Gould an 
 intimacy sprang up like that between David and 
 Jonathan they were inseparable. A revival marked 
 these Boylston labors, and -the feeble country church 
 was recruited and refreshed. 
 
 The idleness of an earnest man is fruitful. Rest 
 comes from change. Mr. Gough, like Wesley, was 
 " always at it."
 
 II. 
 
 THE TIDE IS OUT. 
 
 DURING the decade of 1855-65, in the United States, 
 temperance touched the low-water mark. The tide 
 was out away out. Those Southern States which, a 
 few years earlier, had adopted prohibition, seceded. 
 In Maine itself the law, immortalized by its name, 
 was repealed (in 1856), and superseded by license 
 as old as history, and as infirm as .its age would indi- 
 cate! The five other New England States retained 
 the statute, but indifferently and spasmodically 
 enforced it. In New York, rum-made and rum-paid 
 judges declared the prohibitory law unconstitutional, 
 and thus made dram-selling and drunkenness legal 
 and equitable. This was the epoch of reaction. 
 
 There were three causes. For one thing, " no 
 special moral reform agitation," as a philosophical 
 observer remarks, " can be kept alive for an indefinite 
 period. The public weary of it. They will not go 
 to hear repeated for the fortieth time arguments 
 whose conclusions they anticipate before they enter 
 the hall, or experiences portrayed with which lectures 
 and literature have already made them familiar." 
 
 In the next place, this inevitable falling away of 
 interest seriously affected the temperance propaganda.
 
 THE TIDE IS OUT. 173 
 
 Public opinion was not made and inflamed as at the 
 start. 
 
 Thirdly, and most important of all, the country 
 was now preoccupied with another issue newer 
 more angry involving sectional feeling, interest, 
 power more clamorous more hysterical, viz., the 
 question of slavery, soon transferred from the forum 
 to the battle-field, and debated with cannon-balls and 
 grape-shot and bayonet charges for arguments; and 
 with wounds, suffering, and death for practical ap- 
 plications, rhetorical pauses, and punctuation marks. 
 The constitution of the human mind is such that it is 
 impossible to interest it equally and contempora- 
 neously in two exciting and absorbing questions. The 
 present was what Wendell Phillips called "the negro's 
 hour." Temperance was temporarily crowded into 
 the background. The Civil War, in preparation or 
 in operation, concentrated the thoughts and energies 
 of the continent upon itself. 
 
 Mr. Gough was a close and accurate observer, as we 
 have discovered. He was in constant motion, so that 
 he knew the condition of affairs not only in localities 
 but throughout the Union. And he was in close 
 touch with prominent men everywhere the men who 
 make and reflect popular sentiment. Of course, such 
 a man would speedily detect this lukewarmness, 
 affecting as it did the cause to which his life was de- 
 voted, and visible as it was across the whole field of 
 action. His spirit was apprehensive. His heart was 
 heavy. He regretted his impending departure, feel- 
 ing that he was needed at home. But he had signed 
 an agreement before leaving for America to return to 
 Great Britain in two years and give three years to
 
 174 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 the cause over there on the same terms as in 1853-4-5. 
 His engagements were with the London Temperance 
 League, and the Scottish Temperance League. The 
 headquarters of the first were in London; of the 
 second in Glasgow. But before Mr. Gough's second 
 visit, the two were consolidated in " The National and 
 Scottish Temperance League" (in 1856). 
 
 At this juncture, Neal Dow, the author of the Maine 
 Law, one of the historic names of the nineteenth cen- 
 tury, went to England to labor for prohibition in 
 connection with the " United Kingdom Alliance," 
 which was organized, in 1853, " to promote the total 
 and immediate legislative suppression of the traffic in 
 all intoxicating liquors as beverages." With this pro- 
 gramme, Mr. Dow was in full accord. He was iden- 
 tified with it in and through the Maine Law; which 
 prohibited the manufacture and sale of intoxicating 
 liquor, except by specially appointed or permitted 
 agents, selling for excepted purposes only, with pro- 
 vision for search, seizure, and forfeiture of liquors kept 
 for illegal disposition. 
 
 When Mr. Gough heard that Neal Dow was going 
 abroad in 1856, he said: 
 
 " I am sorry he is going this year, for I earnestly desire that 
 his work there may be successful, and the English critics who 
 are opposed to the law will say he has come to represent a 
 failure, for the law is not now on the statute-books of his own 
 State. If he would wait till it shall be reenacted with more 
 stringent provisions, as it is sure to be, then, on the wave of a 
 glorious success, his mission there would be doubly effective 
 in aiding the friends to establish prohibition in Great Britain." ' 
 
 1 " Autobiography," p. 393.
 
 THE TIDE IS OUT. 175 
 
 On the 23d of March, 1856, Mr. Gough wrote to 
 his friend G. C. Campbell in England: 
 
 " The cause in this country is in a depressed state ; the 
 Maine Law is a dead letter everywhere more liquor sold than 
 I ever knew before, in Massachusetts, and in other States it 
 is about as bad. Were it not that I feel desirous of laboring 
 with you again, I should be inclined to ask for the loan of 
 another year to labor here. I never had so many earnest appli- 
 cations for labor, and the field is truly ready, not for the sickle, 
 but for steady, persevering tillage; but we shall leave our dear 
 home in July, with the expectation of laboring with you, as far 
 as health and strength will permit, for the next three years. 
 . . . I see Neal Dow is in England. I am glad. You will 
 all like him ; he is a noble man a faithful worker. He can 
 tell better than any other man, the state of the Maine-Law move- 
 ment here, and the cause of the universal failure of the law to 
 produce the desired results." 1 
 
 This was a personal letter, not intended for publi- 
 cation. But as it recited certain facts which were of 
 public concern, Mr. Campbell naturally and properly 
 published it. Knowing the heated state of feeling 
 existing at the time between the moral-suasion and 
 the Maine-Law wings of the temperance forces, here 
 and abroad, Mr. Gough regretted the publication, 
 and remarked to his wife, when she showed him a 
 copy of the British Weekly Record containing it. " I 
 can see how it may make trouble, but I hope it will 
 not."' 
 
 This hope was not fulfilled. It did make trouble, 
 with a vengeance. The temperance press of Great 
 Britain at once took sides. The American reformer 
 was attacked with surprising bitterness, with per- 
 
 J "Autobiography," p. 392. J " Autobiography," p. 394.
 
 176 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 sonal malignity, for this expression of opinion. He 
 was defended with equal warmth. And that saddest 
 of all controversies, one between co-laborers in a 
 common cause, but divided into warring camps by 
 differences regarding facts or methods clawed and 
 clamored, as though bedlam had broken loose. It 
 was charged that Mr. Gough was " reckless " that 
 he was "prone to sweeping exaggerations " that he 
 was " not an honest prohibitionist nor an honest 
 man " that he was " subject to fits of the ' blues,' and 
 had written this letter while under the influence of 
 this malady" that he "still drank, and took nar- 
 cotics " and so on to the end of a devil's chapter of 
 rancor. 
 
 As he moved about the country, the lecturer took 
 care to collect facts which corroborated his state- 
 ments. These he forwarded to his friends and de- 
 fenders in Britain thus adding fuel to the fire. 
 
 The winter of 1856-57 he passed in the West. He 
 spoke many times in many places Chicago, Indiana- 
 polis, Cincinnati, Cleveland, Columbus, among the 
 rest. In the spring of 1857, a farewell trip was taken. 
 Great assemblies everywhere rallied to say " Good 
 bye," notably at Philadelphia, in the Academy of 
 Music, on the 2ist of May, and at New Haven a 
 month later. These were attended by the best and 
 most representative men and women. On the 2d of 
 July, a farewell picnic was held in a grove near " Hill- 
 side," where and when neighbors said, ban voyage. 
 On the Qth inst., Mr. and Mrs. Gough sailed from 
 Boston, in the Niagara, accompanied by a party of 
 intimates, including Dr. Gould to be gone three 
 years.
 
 PART VIII. 
 
 The Second British Tour 
 
 1 A good conscience is to the soul what health 
 is to the body : it preserves a constant ease 
 and serenity within us, and more than counter- 
 vails all the calamities and afflictions which 
 can possibly befall us. I know nothing so 
 hard for a generous mind to get over as cal- 
 umny and reproach, and cannot find any 
 method of quieting the soul under them, 
 besides this single one, of our being conscious 
 to ourselves that we do not deserve them." 
 
 ADDISON, The Guardian, No. 135. 
 
 12
 
 THE COURT OF EXCHEQUER. 
 
 THE Niagara dropped anchor in the Mersey on the 
 26th of July, 1857. The " Yankees " were met and 
 escorted ashore by a large party of waiting well- 
 wishers, who saw their guests comfortably bestowed 
 before they withdrew. 
 
 Mr. Gough instantly found himself the movable 
 center of a circumference of personal detraction. 
 Whenever, wherever he moved, it moved. Across 
 the blazing borders of it he could not leap. All that 
 was weak in his intemperate past was deepened into 
 wickedness; all that was wicked was exaggerated into 
 unpardonable sin. His reformation was denied. It 
 was charged that he was worse now than then; for 
 now he was a sinner masquerading as a saint. 
 
 All these reproaches came from the Pandora's box 
 of that unfortunate letter to Mr. Campbell. The 
 legal-suasian party in Great Britain chose to inter- 
 pret the innocent missive as an affront to their policy. 
 The orator was under contract to serve the interests 
 of the moral suasionists--which added to the offense, 
 since his popularity gave prestige to their rivals. The 
 ill will and bad blood between the two temperance 
 camps amazes the observer who looks back from the 
 serene heights of distance and time. But it is clear
 
 l8o JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 that a determined effort was made to blacken the 
 character and thus destroy the influence of John B. 
 Gough in the first year of his second British tour 
 all on account of his identification with one of the 
 two then opposing schools of temperance thought and 
 action. 
 
 No, not all on this account: because personal 
 jealousies and petty spites, born of unsuccessful com- 
 petitioi played a part in the farce-tragedy. 
 
 Or the day after landing in Liverpool, Mr. Gough 
 addressed a large meeting in Queen Street Hall. 
 He spoke nearly three hours, and in a vein of unusual 
 seriousness and philosophy. Replying to the current 
 criticism, he protested against the vituperation he 
 had received because of the expression of his opinion; 
 confirmed that opinion by documentary evidence ; 
 paid a feeling tribute to " his noble friend and 
 coadjutor," Neal Dow, and expressed a hope that the 
 war between friends might stop or be transferred 
 into the country of the common foe. A resolution 
 was passed, with substantial unanimity, at the close 
 of these remarks, expressing satisfaction with Mr. 
 Gough's statement and confidence in his character. 
 With this resolution in his pocket, and the contro- 
 versy quieted (as he hoped), he went up to London, 
 and took possession of his old quarters, at No. 32 
 Norfolk street, Strand, down by the Thames Embank- 
 ment, in one of the busiest parts of the city. His 
 engagements called for four months' work in Scot- 
 land and eight in England for three years. But a 
 week or more was given to breakfasts and fetes before 
 the campaign opened. 
 
 George Cruikshank entertained the American on
 
 THE COURT OF EXCHEQUER. l8l 
 
 one of these occasions. George had a brother 
 Robert, also an artist, so that the two were often con- 
 fused. At about the time of this visit an English 
 review had discussed the relative merits of the two 
 brothers, reaching the conclusion (which posterity 
 has also come to) that " George was the real Simon 
 Pure." Soon after, a German wrote a sketch of 
 George Cruikshank for a German encyclopaedia, in 
 which he informed his readers that the subject of the 
 memoir was an artist whose real name was Simon 
 Pure, and in the index he wrote : " Pure, Simon the 
 real name of George Cruikshank." Mr. Gough never 
 tired of laughing with and at his friend over this 
 mistake, nor of telling the story on both sides of the 
 Atlantic. 
 
 On the 25th of August, Exeter Hall again wel- 
 comed the "Yankee " as he had been dubbed by his 
 enemies, with a view, no doubt, to enlist national 
 prejudice against the too-popular English-American. 
 Thence, via Manchester and Preston, where large 
 meetings were held, the travelers journeyed to Edin- 
 burgh. 
 
 Here a flat was rented; because the Goughs desired 
 at least the semblance of a home while sojourning in 
 " the land o* cakes an' ale." From this convenient cen- 
 ter, they circled out through Scotland, making their 
 orbit take in the Orkney Islands treeless, wind- 
 swept, barren, cold, shrouded in mist of heaven and 
 mist of sea. 
 
 In January, 1858, they removed to London and 
 began the English itinerary. They did in the South 
 as they had done in the North rented furnished 
 apartments, and played at keeping house. Up and
 
 182 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 down, went the lecturer, informing and reforming 
 multitudes, his comings and goings like a royal prog- 
 ress. 
 
 But during all these months the pitiless deluge of 
 slander continued to beat down upon him; compared 
 with this, the American abuse was as a passing sum- 
 mer shower in contrast with the rainy season in the 
 tropics. 
 
 While in Scotland, an English associate, Mr. William 
 Wilson, of Sherwood Hall, wrote Mr. Gough, stating 
 that a prominent man had, in private correspondence, 
 formulated specific charges against him. What were 
 they? 
 
 " Your friend St. Bartholomew has often been seen 
 narcotically and helplessly intoxicated. I believe him 
 to be as rank a hypocrite and as wretched a man as 
 breathes in the Queen's domains." Such were the 
 alleged offenses, which the writer asserted he could 
 prove by scores of witnesses. He challenged the 
 " Yankee " to sue him for libel, and thus bring the 
 question before an English jury. 
 
 Mf. Gough demanded, and finally got, the name of 
 this.' libeler. It was F. R. Lees, Ph.D., a repre- 
 xsendative and lecturer of the United Kingdom 
 
 Dr. Lees did not stop here. He dredged the sewers 
 of slander in the United States, and imported the offal 
 thus collected; he wrote to those who entertained Mr. 
 Gough and asked these hosts to put their guest under 
 espionage ; and he hired and sent out lecturers to 
 "expose " the " Yankee." 
 
 What was Dr. Lee's motive ? Nominally, it was the 
 vindication of a friend named Peter Sinclair, who had
 
 THE COURT OF EXCHEQUER. 183 
 
 been sharply criticised in America, when he was there 
 lecturing, and in Scotland, where he had been at work 
 for temperance. Dr. Lees, without any proof, and 
 against the truth, assumed that Mr. Gough had in- 
 spired their criticisms, and hence threatened him with 
 exposure unless he should apologize for and with- 
 draw statements he never made. The real motive 
 was, no doubt, a mixed one the spite of a clever lec- 
 turer overshadowed by a greater one, and intense par- 
 tisanship. 
 
 The " Yankee " accepted the challenge of Dr. Lees. 
 Suit was brought in the Court of Exchequer, before 
 Baron Martin. The case was tried in June, 1858, Mr. 
 Gough took the stand. He testified that, since the 
 episode of the drugged soda-water in 1845, ne had 
 never tasted spirituous liquors of any kind; had never 
 bought or eaten opium in any form, saving on that 
 occasion, before he signed the pledge, when he con- 
 templated suicide by swallowing laudanum; that he 
 knew nothing about the articles reflecting upon Peter 
 Sinclair; and that he had with him several memo- 
 randum-books which would show his whereabouts 
 and condition during every day of the interval in 
 question. 
 
 Here the plaintiff's attorney rested. It was now the 
 turn of the counsel for the defendant to cross-examine 
 the witness. He rose. He retracted the charges. 
 He consented to a verdict for the plaintiff with nom- 
 inal damages, because Mr. Gough wanted not money, 
 but a legal vindication. 
 
 Dr. Lees, a day or two later, repudiated the conduct 
 of his counsel in this disposition of the case, which 
 drew forth from his leading lawyer a letter, in which
 
 184 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 he confessed that there was nothing else to do that 
 his client was present in court and consented to the 
 action taken, and had no evidence at all to substan- 
 tiate his charges. 
 
 What shall be thought of a libeler who does not 
 provide himself with evidence before he begins to 
 utter the libel ? 
 
 It has been shrewdly surmised that what really 
 frightened off the defense in the famous case of 
 Gough vs. Lees, was the fact that the plaintiff had 
 with him in court those memorandum-books, which 
 traced his life from day to day and place to place, 
 with dates and witnesses of his state set down in black 
 and white. Lyman Abbott, in referring to the matter, 
 says: " From that day to Mr. Gough's death, slander 
 against his good name never rose above a whisper. 
 Neither envy, malice, nor even partisanship dared 
 face that diary." ' 
 
 Mr. Gough felt this abuse keenly. " It was a terri- 
 ble ordeal," he writes; " they intended that I should 
 suffer, and I did; and, if it is any consolation for them 
 to know that they caused me and mine such pain as I 
 would not inflict on the meanest of God's creatures, 
 I give them the information here. Still, through all 
 this, I did not miss an appointment, but kept steadily 
 at work."" 
 
 Had he been less sensitive and more worldly-wise, 
 the orator, living upon publicity, would have gotten 
 comfort from the reflection that his enemies were giv- 
 ing him free advertisement. For months his name 
 
 1 Introduction to " Platform Echoes," p. 63. 
 " Autobiography," p. 403.
 
 THE COURT OF EXCHEQUER. 185 
 
 was in every journal and on all lips on both sides of the 
 water. The daily press behaved admirably. Scurril- 
 ous matter, offered in abundance was rejected. The 
 actual facts were speedily detected and published. 
 Editors took up the cudgels for Mr. Gough; and Dr. 
 Lees, et. al., were belabored as lustily as though all 
 the parties were engaged in a shindy at " Donnybrook 
 Fair." Excepting when animated by political passion 
 or interest, the newspapers of England and America, 
 alike, may be relied upon in every case to secure fair- 
 play and announce righteous judgment.
 
 II. 
 
 CONTINENTAL GLIMPSES. 
 
 LEAVING the Court of Exchequer with a sigh of 
 relief, Mr. Gough resumed work, and divided the 
 autumn and winter of 1858-59, and the ensuing 
 spring and early summer, according to agreement, 
 between England and Scotland. So far from injur- 
 ing him, the assaults upon his character, now banned 
 by an acquittal in open court, served but to increase 
 his audiences and animate his friends. He became 
 the hero of the hour; a position which his modesty 
 enabled him to hold without growing dizzy with con- 
 ceit. Small men look smaller on a pedestal ; great 
 men need one. 
 
 The long strain, however, told upon him. He re- 
 solved to take a vacation, and to spend it on the Con- 
 tinent. With his wife and a small party of relatives 
 and friends, he left London on the 226. of July, 1859, 
 for Paris, where he arrived after a pleasant run of 
 eleven hours. 
 
 Mr. Gough did not like Paris. He appreciated 
 and acknowledged its beauty, but the atmosphere of 
 the place did not suit him. The genius loci was not 
 congenial. The reason is obvious he was an earnest 
 man a man with a mission. Paris is the capital of 
 pleasure. It is laid out in the interest of " the lust 
 of the eye, the lust of the flesh, and the pride of 
 life." 'Tis the city of sensual enchantments. Its
 
 CONTINENTAL GLIMPSES. 187 
 
 boulevards, its broad spaces, populous with bewitch- 
 ing statues, its architectural splendors, its kaleido- 
 scopic movement and glitter, appeal to the aesthetic 
 rather than the moral nature. Lotus-eating is there 
 the serious business of life. The city is love-sick with 
 music and poetry. The luxurious citizens, melted in 
 baths and perfumes, and lounging in delicious lan- 
 guor, in front of the cafes, or in the foyers of the 
 operas or theaters, mock at the severe precepts of 
 Christian virtue. Lyres and easels are preferred to 
 Bibles and churches. Paris is the apotheosis of earth. 
 Beautiful? Yes; but " earthly, sensual, devilish." 
 
 A week in Paris, passed in sight-seeing, was enough 
 for Mr. Gough, and that ex- Yankee schoolma'am, his 
 wife, two Puritan souls out of harmony with their 
 environment. On the 2Qth they deserted the French 
 capital for Geneva, where they rested on the Sunday 
 and attended church, their habit always and every- 
 where. On the Monday following they set out for 
 Chamounix. The day was clear. The experiences 
 were new. Each one made an indelible impression. 
 Mr. Gough thus describes his first glimpse at Mont 
 Blanc: 
 
 " Soon after noon we arrived at Lallenche, and, while waiting 
 for dinner and a change of I'otture, I strolled out with Dr. 
 Gould ; my wife, being weary, remained in the hotel. Stand- 
 ing together on the bridge, I said, ' How new all this is to me 
 the mountains, valleys, waterfalls, picturesque villages, cha- 
 lets all new and strange; the sky so clear and blue, the clouds 
 so pure it is all glorious ! What a peculiar cloud that is be- 
 hind those hills ! so white, so clearly cut, it appears like why 
 it is yes no George, that is the mountain that is Mont 
 Blanc ! I know it !' And as I caught the first view of the
 
 l88 JOHN B. GOIIGH. 
 
 monarch of the Alps I trembled with excitement. With tears 
 in my eyes, and my heart full, I turned away to hurry Mary out 
 to enjoy it with us. We traveled the well known route to the 
 Valley of Chamounix. As we passed through it toward the 
 village, the sun sank behind the hills, and left us in shadow; 
 but the gorgeous coloring of the snow clad mountains filled us 
 with delight. Ever-changing, ever-beautiful wave after wave 
 of glory seemed to roll over the summit, growing more and 
 more subdued until, with one flash of exquisite beauty from the 
 sun's last beam, the wonderful outline of mountain tops stood 
 relieved by the dark blue sky white, cold, chastely beautiful. "' 
 
 A few happy days of excursionizing in and around 
 Chamounix succeeded this elect day of entrance, the 
 weather holding fair and favorable. Then the tour- 
 ists proceeded through the magnificent TtteNoir&aA 
 Brunig Passes to Lucerne another dream of de- 
 light. Thence the route lay through Basle, out of 
 Switzerland into Germany, to Mayence, down the 
 Rhine to Cologne, and from Cologne, by way of Lisle 
 and Calais, across the channel, to England and Lon- 
 don. 
 
 Amid the pleasures of travel, Mr. Gough did not 
 forget his life-work. He says: 
 
 " I had heard so much of the sobriety of wine-growing coun- 
 tries, and so many propositions to introduce wine in America 
 as a cure for drunkenness, that I determined to make what per- 
 sonal observations I might be able during my brief sojourn on 
 the Continent. On the boulevards and the Champs Elysees I 
 saw no more drunkenness than in Broadway or Fifth Avenue ; 
 but in the narrow by-streets back of the main thoroughfare, I 
 discovered as many evidences of gross dissipation as in Baxter 
 street, New York, or in Bedford street, Philadelphia. I took 
 a survey of the low cabarets, and found the same bloated or 
 
 1 " Autobiography," p. 447.
 
 CONTINENTAL GLIMPSES. 189 
 
 haggard faces, the same steaming rags, the same bleared and 
 blood-shot eyes, the same evidence of drink-soaked humanity 
 in its degradation, as in any of the grog-shops in the United 
 States. In Geneva the same ; we were kept awake by the 
 bacchanalian revels of intoxicated men in the streets all night. 
 In Vevay, I saw more evidences of drunkenness than in any 
 town of its population in America. In Mayence, a fair was held 
 while we were there, and I saw more drunken men on the 
 streets and in the squares than I believe were to be seen on the 
 streets during the whole five days of the ' Peace Jubilee ' in 
 Boston. In Basle and in Cologne, it was the same ; and my 
 impressions are, from personal observation (not very extensive), 
 that drunkenness prevails in wine-growing countries to as great 
 an extent as in any portion of the United States that I have 
 visited." 1 
 
 Mr. Gough relates how he and his wife were shown, 
 at Cologne, the skulls of the ten thousand virgins 
 or at least some skulls, and says: " The attendant 
 showed us a small cracked jar, carefully inclosed in a 
 case, lined with crimson velvet, and told us that was 
 one of the jars the Saviour filled with wine at the 
 marriage in Cana. My wife turned away, and he said 
 with a shrug: 
 
 " Americaine hah! not moosh like relique." 
 
 He adds: 
 
 " This reminded me of the sword that was exhibited as 
 Balaam's sword with which he slew the ass. One of the spec- 
 tators said : 
 
 " ' But Balaam did not have a sword ; he only wished for 
 one.' 
 
 " ' Ah ! ' cried the showman, ' this is the sword he wished 
 for.'" 8 
 
 1 " Autobiography," pp. 445, 446. * " Autobiography," p. 450.
 
 III. 
 
 A DIP INTO IRELAND. 
 
 NOTHING is more fatiguing than sightseeing. It 
 involves a double strain, of the body, on account of 
 the incessant movement, and of the mind, through liv- 
 ing on the qui vive, and thinking and talking in ex- 
 clamation marks. Those breathless twenty-three days 
 on the Continent made Mr. Gough, veteran traveler 
 though he was, glad enough to rest a fortnight in 
 London, before again turning 
 
 ". . . itinerant, 
 To stroll and teach from town to town." 
 
 But, as Tennyson says, " men must work." On the 
 3oth of August the new season began, and the 
 whole of September was spent in England. Then, on 
 the 3d of October, the lecturer crossed to Erin, and 
 stepped for the first time on Irish soil. At Dublin he 
 was entertained by the Rev. Dr. John Hall, later of 
 New York. Here three lectures were delivered to 
 crowded and enthusiastic audiences. The responsive- 
 ness of the Celtic blood is proverbial. The Irish have 
 quicksilver in their veins. Mr. Gough also spoke in 
 Belfast, Londonderry, and Cork, in the former four 
 times, in the latter two cities, twice in each. These
 
 A DIP INTO IRELAND. igi 
 
 engagements took him quite through the island. The 
 impressions of such a shrewd sight-seer "are of value. 
 
 The Irish question was then, as it is now, has been 
 for five hundred years, and will be until it is settled 
 on the basis of political equity, what the French 
 call a burning question. Mr. Gough saw, what every 
 traveler sees, abounding ignorance, poverty, and 
 drunkenness the very landscape squalid and tipsy. 
 He found the people in a state of chronic insurrec- 
 tion and hating the name of England. They were at 
 once the most religious and the most unconscientious 
 peasantry in Europe. They went to mass, and then 
 adjourned to engage in or watch a prize-fight. They 
 talked honestly, and reduced thievery to a fine art in 
 practice. They were grateful and ungrateful, in a 
 breath. They worked, and were yet improvident. 
 In wit no one could equal them, and in practical 
 faculty they rated with the people of Dahomey. 
 
 Himself one of the most mercurial of men, Mr. 
 Gough believed that these contradictions in the Irish 
 nature were the result of a volatile temperament. He 
 understood the Irish, because he knew himself. The 
 lightning changes of mood, the heights and depths of 
 feeling, the unreasoning and sometimes unreasonable 
 states of mind which marked and marred his own 
 disposition, he discovered in these dear, dirty, alto- 
 gether enigmatical but delightful Irish folk the ad- 
 miration and despair of both friends and foes. 
 
 As for the existing ignorance and poverty, the 
 apostle of cold water had no difficulty in tracing these 
 to their sources. He was convinced that a vicious 
 political system was one cause: a system so vicious 
 that it gave over the land of Ireland to absentee
 
 192 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 owners, who had no interest in the tenants, save to 
 squeeze out of them rent to the last farthing; made 
 peasant proprietorship impossible, thus depriving the 
 tillers of the soil of all inducement to improve the 
 land, and of the sense of self-respect which comes 
 from ownership; and discouraged manufactures, the 
 only other available means of prosperity, because 
 manufacturing England would not tolerate a rival on 
 the other side of the Irish Sea. 
 
 The other plain cause of Irish pauperism he dis- 
 covered in the drunken habits of the people. During 
 the progress of Father Mathew's memorable temper- 
 ance crusade, which began in 1838, 5,000,000 people, 
 of both sexes, all ages, and all conditions, out of a 
 total population of 8,175,124, took the pledge of total 
 abstinence. Four years later, drunkenness had dis- 
 appeared in many parts of the Emerald Isle, the pub- 
 lic-houses were deserted, the distilleries and breweries 
 were closed, and the criminal calendars at the assizes 
 were almost blank. The annual consumption of 
 spirits dropped from 11,595,536 gallons in 1837 to 
 6,484,443 in 1841, with an increased population. 
 
 This happy condition did not become permanent 
 why ? Because it was not secured by a prohibitory 
 law. A weak, moral purpose could not resist the 
 allurements of temptation. Little by little, the liquor 
 interest regained its temporarily lost supremacy. 
 The public-houses, distilleries, and breweries resumed 
 business under license. The number of gallons of 
 ardent spirits consumed in a twelvemonth went up 
 higher than ever; while the population entered upon 
 a rapid decline which has continued to this day. As 
 for the courts, they soon found plenty of occupation,
 
 A DIP INTO IRELAND. 193 
 
 one person in every fifty-four of the population being 
 annually convicted of habitual drunkenness. 
 
 Of these, and similar facts, we may be sure the 
 temperance lecturer made telling use on the Irish 
 rostrum. 
 
 Evidences of the awful famine of 1848, which 
 America honored itself by shipping provisions to 
 relieve, and in aid of which Mr. Gough had spoken 
 more than once were visible. Yet at that very time 
 many million quarters of grain were diverted from 
 the tables of the starving peasants to the distilleries, 
 and thus destroyed for food and distilled into poison 
 for the brain. " When children were found dead," 
 remarks Mr. Gough, " with the seaweed they had 
 been sucking for nourishment between their teeth; 
 when, as I was told in Brandon by the rector, people 
 dreaded to go out at night for fear of stumbling over 
 a dead body; when thousands of poor creatures were 
 fed every day in the yards of the well-to-do, and 
 when such Good Samaritans were obliged to sprinkle 
 the stones on which they sat with chloride of lime, 
 for fear of infection from the famine fever which was 
 raging; at that very time the smoke of the distil- 
 leries was darkening the air and intensifying the 
 famine." ' 
 
 Mr. Gough spent a good many hours while in Ire- 
 land in looking around. The streets of Dublin and 
 of Cork specially attracted him. He says: 
 
 " The best thing I heard in Dublin was said by a man to a 
 woman. Two men were talking together, evidently belonging to 
 the poorest class, when a woman short, thick, and dumpy, and 
 
 1 " Sunshine and Shadow," pp. 152, 153. 
 13
 
 194 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 shockingly dirty, came up and interrupted them. ' To the 
 divel I'll pitch ye now, if ye're not away,' said one. 
 
 " Still she annoyed him, when, with an indescribable con- 
 tempt in tone and gesture, he said : 
 
 ' Go away with ye now ; you're for all the world like a bad 
 winter's day short and dirty / '" > 
 
 In referring to Cork, he says: 
 
 " I followed two ballad-singers for nearly an hour to note 
 the people. The ballad was rough, the singers were rude, 
 and not very musical. The theme was the loss at sea of the 
 Royal Charter. I was very much touched by the sad, sym- 
 pathetic faces of the listeners, a crowd of whom surrounded the 
 singers. The description of the storm, the striking of the ship, 
 the cry of the passengers, the prayer that was offered by those 
 on deck, all received a share of notice and sympathy. When 
 the name of God was spoken, every man's hat was off, and 
 every woman bowed her head. I saw tears streaming down 
 the cheeks of some, and heard such expressions as, ' Ah ! God 
 be betune us an' all harrum ' ; and, ' Oh ! the cruel, cruel say, 
 to swallow them all up." It was to me very interesting." 8 
 
 Ireland is the most beautiful of islands. It should 
 be the happiest. Its rock-bound coast is a fringe of 
 grandeur on an emerald robe. Its soil is as fertile as 
 the sod is green. Its lakes are mirrors of heaven. Its 
 hills and vales are flowery with romance and hoary 
 with legend. The whole landscape is a smile of God. 
 
 Alas ! though the mother of the people is genius, 
 their father is squalor. They are housed in the hovel 
 of drunkenness. A poor-house, couchant, and a dis- 
 tillery, rampant, should be quartered upon the Irish 
 coat-of-arms. 
 
 1 " Autobiography," p. 487. 2 " Autobiography," p. 485.
 
 IV. 
 
 BRITISH MORALS, MANNERS, AND MEN. 
 
 THE more salient of Mr. Gough's Continental and 
 Irish impressions have been noted. We jot down in 
 this chapter some of his views of British morals, man- 
 mers, and men. 
 
 He observed and commended the judicious slow- 
 ness of the English mind, its dislike of novelty, its 
 constitutional conservatism, its stubborn determina- 
 tion to hold on to what it has until it is sure of some- 
 thing better, its preference for an acre on earth 
 rather than a principality in Utopia, its deliberate 
 investigation and debate of every measure of pro- 
 posed reform, from Magna Charta down, and desire 
 to be assured of its practicability, before moving to 
 adopt it. But he noted that when once convinced, 
 movement follows, and what is gained is gained for 
 ever. Lord Chesterfield, several generations ago, 
 expressed this truth by implication, in an epigram 
 addressed to a French acquaintance: " You French- 
 men erect barricades, but never any barriers." When 
 the French see or suspect an abuse they are furious, 
 sing the " Marseillaise," and upset the Government. 
 The next week a reaction sets in, and the abuse reap- 
 pears. In Britain the abuse is named, a meeting is 
 called, proofs are offered, public opinion is informed,
 
 196 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 and reform follows as a matter of course, and stays. 
 This takes time, and is galling to certain nervous and 
 sanguine spirits. But arguments are better than 
 bombs. And progress is surer when made by pop- 
 ular consent, than when imposed either by a mob or 
 by a Cabinet. Many times hasty people go away 
 from Britain only to come back after a series of mis- 
 adventures to slow up with the country. 
 
 It was his knowledge of this mood of the British 
 mind which made John B. Gough so patient and per- 
 severing in his use of moral suasion. He saw that what 
 the people needed was information and direction 
 the actual preception of ardent spirits as an abuse 
 that required reforming and could be reformed. 
 " The great difficulty experienced in advocating tem- 
 perance there," he writes, " is, or was, the dogged, 
 arbitrary condemnation of the principles involved, a 
 stolidity of perception, and an expressed belief in the 
 impossibility of establishing those principles among 
 them. And yet the temperance movement is steadily 
 increasing in power and influence. Some of the 
 leaders are far-seeing men, and look not only to the 
 direct results, but to the future development of the 
 harvest of which they are patiently sowing the seeds. 
 I know no men who are more deserving of all praise 
 than the steady, persevering advocates of reform 
 political, ecclesiastical, and moral in Great Britain." ' 
 
 Mr. Gough bears glowing testimony to the " large 
 amount of good effected in England by self-denying 
 women," and adds: 
 
 " Let any person read ' English Hearts and English Hands,' 
 
 1 "Autobiography," pp. 506, 507.
 
 BRITISH MORALS, MANNERS, AND MEN. 197 
 
 or 'The Missing Link,' and he will see what women are doing 
 in Christian work among the destitute classes. Read ' Haste 
 to the Rescue,' or ' Ragged Homes, and How to Mend Them," 
 or ' Workmen and Their Difficulties,' and you will gain an in- 
 sight into this sphere of labor that will convince you that their 
 work must be successful in the end. No discouragements 
 hinder, no opposition checks them ; their purposes seem 
 strengthened by blasts of adverse criticism. I met the men and 
 women who have been gathered in the ' Kensington Potteries ' 
 by Mrs. Bailey, and I spent a few days at Shrewsbury, as the 
 guest of Rev. Charles Wightman, whose noble wife has accom- 
 plished a wonderful work among the denizens of Butcher's row 
 uncleanness, degradation, sin alleviated. ... In many 
 places where I was a guest, I found the ladies of the family 
 busily and earnestly engaged in endeavoring to ameliorate the 
 condition of the poor, by inculcating temperance, visiting 
 them, reading to them, and teaching them cleanliness and habits 
 of thrift." l 
 
 This work is not confined to the temperance classes. 
 Thoughtful people generally are addressing them- 
 selves more and more to the study and solution of 
 the complicated problems which tax and vex modern 
 civilization so he testifies. 
 
 Mr. Gough's remarks regarding society are inter- 
 esting : 
 
 " Society in Great Britain is divided into three classes 
 nobility, gentry (among whom rank the clergy), and the public 
 generally. These again are divided and subdivided, to an 
 almost illimitable extent. My work brought me constantly in 
 contact with the public generally, often with the gentry, and 
 very seldom with the aristocracy. Though the reverence for 
 mere rank is dying out, still there is a deference paid to ' my 
 
 "Autobiography," pp. 510 and 512.
 
 198 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 lord ' ; and to be seen on the sunny side of Pall Mall in the 
 height of the season, arm in arm with a live lord, would repay 
 some men for any amount of toadyism." ' 
 
 Although toadyism results inevitably from the 
 social organization in Great Britain, our critic is sure 
 that there is a large element of it in human nature, 
 and gives this sly dig at America : 
 
 " Though we in a republican country ridicule the flunkeyism 
 of Great Britain, there is just as much here as there. Many 
 Americans would feel flattered by attention from a lord, and 
 bow as low to a title as any in England. How much planning 
 and maneuvering there is to secure the presence of a lord at 
 fashionable parties in New York and in other cities we all 
 know." ' 2 
 
 He might have made his case stronger had he cited 
 the common sale of American heiresses for titles in 
 the matrimonial markets of Europe so much gold 
 for so much title, with the girl thrown into the bar- 
 gain ! 
 
 Continuing in this vein, he goes on to say : 
 
 " I have heard of the great affability of the nobility, but I 
 must confess, that in my limited experience of them I have 
 found, with some exceptions, an indescribable sort of 'touch 
 me not," a kind of ' you may look but you must not touch.' 
 Perhaps it is owing to my education and early experiences, but 
 I could never feel as entirely at my ease with a lord as with a 
 commoner." * 
 
 Mr. Gough was persuaded that the existence of a 
 large, wealthy, idle, upper class, whose object in life 
 
 1 "Autobiography,*' p. 456. 2 "Autobiography, pp. 456, 457. 
 1 "Autobiography," p. 457.
 
 BRITISH MORA1 S, MANNERS, AND MEN. 199 
 
 is pleasure, stands toward vice in the relation of cause 
 to effect. On this point he says : 
 
 " While I was in London, a testimonial was presented to a.. 
 man who has dared, perhaps more than any other, to make 
 vice attractive. I speak of the manager and proprietor of the 
 ' Argyll Rooms,' where music and dancing are carried on 
 every night ' admission, gentlemen one shilling, ladies free,' 
 and where no reputable woman enters. Actually, a lord pre- 
 sided at the dinner and presented the testimonial! No wonder 
 London abounds in Traviatas in the parks, theaters, and 
 fashionable streets. The terrible ' social evil,' like everything 
 else in London, is on the most gigantic scale; it is a question 
 that can never be tabulated. And so long as women can barely 
 exist in virtuous industry so long as there are rich and fash- 
 ionable men to sanction vice so long as young blood becomes 
 fevered by strong drink so long as young men and women 
 dare not marry, as their parents did, and bravely and nobly 
 fight the battle of life ; so long will the ' social evil ' in Eng- 
 land, and in this country, continue to be a social blot, tainting 
 society a frightful source of sin and misery." ' 
 
 Mr. Gough says that the social divisions in Britain 
 were accurately marked by the prices of admission to 
 his lectures : First class, five shillings, or half a crown, 
 as it might be ; second class, one shilling; working 
 people, sixpence. 
 
 In the manufacturing districts he found much to 
 deplore: 
 
 " No one can visit them without being struck by the contrast 
 between the operatives there and here. Go into a mill here and 
 you see the girls, as a rule, neat, clean, healthy bits of looking- 
 glass placed on the walls, or posts, at intervals, and perhaps 
 some young girl ' doing up her hair ' in her short leisure time, 
 
 1 "Autobiography," pp. 463, 464.
 
 200 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 or sitting for another to curl it. In many English factories you 
 see heated, half-clad figures, thin, clammy hands, and pallid 
 faces girls, women/lads, men all alike in their gaunt, ghastly 
 weariness. Out of the mill you see abject slovenliness, only 
 occasionally relieved by a faint attempt at smartness. Girls 
 go without bonnets, with sometimes a shawl over the head 
 from which they have not picked out the oily refuse that clings 
 to them. In Scotland and Ireland they are universally bare- 
 footed. In Lancashire they wear those wooden-soled shoes 
 that make a peculiar and deafening clatter, clatter, when tlie 
 mill hands are let out." 1 
 
 Of all working people, however, "the Yankee" 
 found the miners and the agricultural laborers the 
 most ignorant and neglected but a step above the 
 yahoos or thugs. The miners being out of sight 
 (underground) are out of mind. With regard to the 
 farm hands, he remarks: 
 
 " We are told that ' nature is a great educator.' I do not be- 
 lieve it. I found men and women who were born and reared, 
 and who lived in the most lovely rural districts, where nature 
 laughs in all the perfection of beauty, who are among the most 
 stupid, boorish, and unintellcctual beings in human shape. 
 Their employment requires no thought; one is a plowman, and 
 does nothing but follow the plow ; another a hedger or ditcher, 
 etc. I have tried to converse with them, but found them wo- 
 fully ignorant. The last words of a dying Lancashire boor are 
 recorded: ' W'at wi' faath, and watwi' the 'arth turning round 
 the soon, and w'at wi' the raalroads a fuzzen and a whuzzen, 
 I'm clean moodled and bet.'"* 
 
 Mr. Gough is sure that Dickens and Thackeray and 
 Kingsley have not drawn and could not draw an 
 
 1 " Autobiography," pp. 470, 471. s " Autobiography," p. 472.
 
 BRITISH MORALS, MANNERS, AND MEN. 2OI 
 
 exaggerated picture of the ignorance of these people. 
 He writes : 
 
 " When visiting Bedfordshire, where Bunyan lived, preached, 
 and was imprisoned, and Cowper's residence when he was so 
 long with Mrs. Unwin I went with a party to see the Church 
 in which Scott, the commentator, once preached. A woman 
 accompanied us to show us the place, and at every reply to 
 our questions, with her arms folded, she would duck down in 
 an attempt at a courtesy. I said to her once : 
 
 " ' Please, ma'am, do not bob at me so, when I speak to you. 
 I do not like it.' 
 
 "We noticed a row of hard-looking benches reminding me 
 of the seats in old-fashioned New England schoolhouses. I 
 asked : 
 
 ' " What are these benches for ? ' 
 
 " ' Please, sir, they gits the colic, sir.' 
 
 " ' The colic ! good gracious ! what do they get the colic 
 for?' 
 
 " ' Please, sir, they are obleeged to, every Sunday morning, 
 sir.' 
 
 " ' Well, well, I never heard of such a thing ; obliged to get 
 the colic every Sunday morning ? ' 
 
 " ' Yes, please sir, all of them is obliged to get it.' 
 
 " I must confess tor a moment I had a vision of a set of 
 wretched children on hard benches in a high state of inward 
 disturbance when one of the party laughed heartily and said : 
 
 " ' She means they are compelled to learn the collect (prayers 
 for the day in the English Church liturgy) every Sunday 
 morning.' 
 
 " That was, probably the extent of their religious education." ' 
 
 In Scotland the helpers about the farm were called 
 hinds a word which defines their status. In Wales, 
 Mr. Gough saw women and young girls working in 
 
 1 Autobiography," pp. 478, 479.
 
 202 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 the brick-yards their dress simply a coarse frock. 
 All these unfortunates were boozy with beer or fud- 
 dled with gin. 
 
 This was a generation ago. Things have somewhat 
 mended since then. But we have already quoted Mr. 
 Gough's testimony regarding the slowness of the 
 British mind. What need amid such surroundings 
 for the heart of Christ and the zeal of Paul! 
 
 Mr. Gough's vocation brought him in contact with 
 the celebrities of the day, and especially with such as 
 wrought in the field of philanthropy. Many of these 
 meetings by the wayside of reform ripened into 
 charming intimacies. The Established Church was 
 then unfriendly to teetotalism, so that its clergy were 
 not in touch with him. But the great Nonconform- 
 ists leaders cooperated zealously against the drink. 
 Of several titans he makes offhand sketches, com- 
 mencing with Dr. Guthrie: 
 
 " One of the most fascinating preachers I ever heard was 
 Dr. Guthrie, of Edinburgh. In 1853-55 and 1857-60 I listened 
 to him often. It was difficult to get into the church, every inch 
 of room being occupied that could be made available either for 
 sitting or standing. The doctor kindly gave me a pass, and 
 my wife and myself always found a good seat. The audience 
 was composed of the literary, philosophical, scientific, and 
 intellectual, with a fair show of the commonplace ; for the 
 preacher had a marvelous power of adapting his discourse to 
 the gratification of the intellectual and to the understanding of 
 the common mind. The Duke of Argyll was often there, 
 together with professors from the University. Truly, the rich 
 and poor met together, for Dr. Guthrie was almost worshiped 
 by many of the denizens of the closes on High street, and no 
 wonder ; for while he rebuked the sins, he sympathized with 
 the sorrows of poor humanity. . . . After the preliminary
 
 BRITISH MORALS, MANNERS, AND MEN. 203 
 
 services, which were very solemn and tender, the people settled 
 down to listen. The first time I heard him he took the text : ' We 
 all do fade as a leaf.' Then there was a pause amid the breath- 
 less silence of the congregation. See him with his noble fore- 
 head, and those magnificent eyes, as he tenderly looks over the 
 large assemblage, his heait overflowing with tender sympathy 
 and affection for those who were traveling to that ' bourn from 
 which no traveler returns.' And then he went on and on with 
 that magnificent voice, sometimes like ' a thunder psalm among 
 the hills,' then like the sigh of the wind among the trees ; again 
 like the sound of a trumpet, then like the JEoli&n harp ; at one 
 moment, sharp, staccato, the next seeming to struggle through 
 'a mist of unshed tears.' Your eyes would fill in spite of your- 
 self by the power of his pathos. 
 
 " The acquaintance and friendship I was permitted to enjoy 
 with Dr. Guthrie, is one of the most delightful of my reminis- 
 cences. He presided several times at my meetings ; and I 
 remember how amused he was when once the Secretary said: 
 
 "' The Rev. Dr. Guthrie, author of the " Sins and Sorrows of 
 the City," will preside ; and Professor Miller, author of " Alco- 
 hol " will preside to-morrow evening.'" 1 
 
 The Rev. William Arnot, of Glasgow, was another 
 Scotch pulpiteer with whom the pleader for temper- 
 ance became familiar " very different from Dr. 
 Guthrie, yet not one whit below him in influence or 
 power, appealing to the intellect rather than to the 
 feelings, yet at times very tender." * 
 
 Mr. Gough often heard, and greatly liked, Newman 
 Hall, who preached in Surrey Chapel, where he spoke 
 himself his mother's first church home. 
 
 Among others, not of the clergy, but co-workers in 
 
 1 " Sunshine and Shadow," pp. 383-389. 
 * " Sunshine and Shadow," p. 389.
 
 204 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 good words and works, he recalls the Earl of Shaftes- 
 bury, a nobleman in fact as well as by title, who 
 carved his name in the hearts of England's poor ; 
 not an orator, but " whose presence was mightier 
 than speech." And John Bright is particularly men- 
 tioned, with whom he passed a week in one of those, 
 charming British country-seats (in Brymbo, Wales), 
 and to whom he listened for an hour (and could have 
 listened for ever), as he spoke there to an extem- 
 porized gathering of iron-workers upon the question 
 of "Capital and Labor," showing their inter-depend- 
 ence in words " incisive, clear as crystal," and of vivid 
 power. 
 
 With the Corn-Law reformers, too, he made an 
 acquaintance and Richard Cobden, Henry Vincent, 
 and George Thompson were among the supreme 
 names in the estimation of this kindred spirit. 
 
 When in London his favorite resorts were the 
 Houses of Parliament, where history is made, and 
 Westminster Abbey, where history is preserved. But 
 the streets of the modern Babylon were, perhaps, his 
 chiefest haunt. Here he found human nature at first 
 hand endless in its diversity with tragedies and 
 comedies of actual life enacted on every corner 
 Punch-and-Judy shows galore heroism and coward- 
 ice, generosity and meanness, virtue and vice, elbow 
 to elbow in the procession of humanity. 
 
 The long term of the temperance advocate's volun- 
 tary exile drew to a close. His final round was made 
 in England, with the exception of eighteen days 
 given to Ireland, and a hurried trip to Glasgow for a 
 farewell address in that seaport, and to attend a 
 good-bye soirte there. On Wednesday evening, the
 
 BRITISH MORALS, MANNERS, AND MEN. 205 
 
 8th of August, he gave his last lecture in Exeter 
 Hall. We quote his own account of this meeting : 
 
 " Several American friends were present, among them the 
 Rev. Dr. George B. Chiever and the Hon. Ichabod Washburn, 
 of Worcester. Those who had signed the pledge in Exeter 
 Hall had subscribed for a Bible, to be presented on the last 
 evening I should lecture there. I had spoken ninety-five times 
 in that Hall, and on the ninety-sixth and last the Bible was 
 presented. It was one of the largest audiences I had met 
 there. It was very exciting to me, and I was more nearly 
 overcome than I remember ever to have been on any similar 
 occasion. My dear friend, George Cruikshank, presided ; 
 Judge Payne, of the Court of Quarter Sessions, was appointed 
 to present the Bible ; my first English friends, true, tried, and 
 faithful, were there dear Tweedie, Campbell, Howlett, the 
 brothers John and Joseph Taylor, Spriggs, Hugh Owen, with 
 many more from the London societies and from the provinces. 
 
 " When the Bible was presented, I rose to reply, and no 
 schoolboy, on his first appearance, could have felt more 
 embarrassed. At last I said: ' My dear friends, as I look at 
 this splendid testimonial of your good will rich in morocco 
 and gold, beautiful as a work of art and skill I think of 
 another book, a little one ; broken, torn, ragged, and imperfect 
 you would hardly pick it up in the street ; but to me, precious 
 as your gift is to-night, more precious is that little book. On 
 the illuminated fly-leaf of this I read : ' Presented Aug. 8, 
 1860, to John B. Gough, on his leaving England for America, 
 by those only who signed the pledge after hearing him in 
 Exeter Hall, London.' On the brown, mildewed fly-leaf of the 
 other book are these words : 'Jane Gough, born Aug. 12, 1776. 
 John Gough, born Aug. 22, 1817. The gift of his mother, on 
 his departure from England for America.' Two gifts, and two 
 departures ! 
 
 " As I began to review the past experiences since I left 
 home, thirty-one years before, the flood of recollections came 
 over me, combined with the tender associations connected
 
 2O6 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 with farewell, and I stammered, became nervous, and was 
 unable to proceed. As I stood there, the unshed tears rilling 
 my eyes, Thomas Irving White rose, and taking me by the 
 hand, said ; ' God bless him ! Give him three cheers ! ' 
 
 " And the audience started to their feet, and with waving of 
 hats and handkerchiefs, gave them with a will. That unsealed 
 the fountain, and I bowed my head and cried like a very boy." ' 
 
 On the loth of August, a large number of the 
 reformer's friends gathered at the " Northwestern " 
 Railway Station to see him off. Many brought, others 
 had previously sent, parting gifts. Amid smiles and 
 tears the train puffed away to Liverpool. In the 
 evening of that same day, he spoke in Concert Hall, 
 Liverpool, to another vast assemblage. On the nth 
 of August, 1860, the embarkation occurred, the good 
 steamer Arabia started, and the second British tour 
 became a memory. In summing up the figures, Mr. 
 Gough states that during the first British visit he 
 lectured 438 times, and traveled 23,224 miles ; during 
 the second, he delivered 605 addresses, and traveled 
 40,217 miles making in all 1,043 public appearances, 
 and 63,441 miles of travel. 
 
 The good he did is not so easily tabulated. But 
 the Recording Angel may be depended upon for that 
 record. 
 
 1 " Autobiography," pp. 452, 453.
 
 PART IX. 
 Renewed Usefulness at Home 
 
 " I pity the man who can travel from Dan 
 to Beerslieba, and cry, ' Tis all barren.'" 
 STERNE, Sentimental Journey
 
 I. 
 
 A CHANGE OF BASE. 
 
 IT so happened that Mr. Gough reached " Hillside" 
 on his birthday, which was celebrated quietly but 
 thankfully by all the inmates. A few days later there 
 was a reception picnic in an adjacent grove; then a 
 rousing reception in Worcester, at the Mechanics' 
 Hall; and, finally, the truant was welcomed home by 
 the clergy of the Commonwealth, at a great meeting 
 in Tremont Temple, Boston; when an autograph- 
 book, filled with the signatures (nearly five hundred 
 in number) of those who had issued the address of 
 greeting, with the inscription "The Welcome of the 
 Ministers of Massachusetts to John B. Gough, on his 
 return from England in August, 1860," was pre- 
 sented, which called forth an appropriate and feeling 
 response from the recipient. 
 
 Shadows lurk in sunshine. These public mani- 
 festations of esteem were saddened by private sorrows. 
 Mrs. Gough learned that one of her brothers, Luke 
 Whitcomb, had been killed in a railroad accident two 
 weeks before her return. She found a remaining 
 brother at death's door with brain fever, and within 
 a fortnight saw him pass through the somber 
 portals. 
 
 While doing what he could to comfort " Mary,"
 
 210 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 the husband felt the shadow creep into his own heart 
 the kind hand that had been laid upon his shoulder 
 to lead him to reform, was gone! He writes: 
 
 "On my return home from New York, October 26th, 1860, I 
 was informed that Joel Stratton was very ill. I at once pro- 
 ceeded to his home, and found him propped up by pillows in 
 his chair, for his disease was of such a character that he could 
 not lie down. The drops stood like beads on his forehead and 
 on the backs of his hands, for he was very weak. I said to 
 him, 'God bless you, Stratton; thousands are thankful that 
 you ever lived.' Feebly he whispered, 'Do you think so?' 
 ' Think so ! I have my English mail here,' and I read him 
 some extracts from a letter I had received from a lady, who 
 wrote, ' How glad you must have been to meet your old friend, 
 Joel Stratton, for whom we often pray, and whom we all love.' 
 Looking at me with his pleasant smile, he said : ' When I laid 
 my hand on your shoulder that night, I never dreamed all this 
 would come to pass did you ? ' ' No,' I said, ' but it has.' I 
 kissed him, and left him, hoping to see him again. I was en- 
 gaged in Montreal on the 29th, and on my return found he was 
 dead. The funeral was to take place the next day, Novem- 
 ber 7th." 
 
 Mr. Gough spoke at this service, words of tender 
 affection and appreciation, a heart-throb in each one: 
 
 " I never knew him intimately, on account of his great mod- 
 esty and diffidence. He always kept himself in the background. 
 He was always the last man to take my hand at the door at 
 my lecture when he was present. I owe to him all I am, since 
 I have been worth anything to my fellow men ; and while I am 
 almost daily annoyed by letters from persons who knew me in 
 my former life, or who were acquainted with some who knew 
 me, asking of me some assistance, Joel Stratton never once 
 
 1 " Autobiography," p. 521.
 
 A CHANGE OF BASE. 211 
 
 asked of me a favor. He never obtruded himself upon me ; 
 never alluded to his instrumentality in my reform; never 
 appeared to pride himself upon it, as if it were a meritorious 
 deed." ' 
 
 Mr. Stratton left his family in financial straits. Mr. 
 Gough counted it a privilege to settle an annuity of 
 $300 upon the widow, which he paid as regularly as 
 the date recurred, during her life. 
 
 Now that he was at home again, he threw himself 
 with his accustomed ardor into work was here, 
 there, and yonder, after the manner of what Wendell 
 Phillips styled " a vagabond lecturer." Adventures 
 were common. Once, while en route, the railroad was 
 choked with snow; the train was hours late. " At a 
 certain station," says Mr. Gough, " we took on board 
 a large number of passengers who had been detained 
 all night waiting for the cars, when one elderly, 
 wo-begone man stood in the passage-way, and, look- 
 ing about him the seats being all occupied said 
 with a most lugubrious air and tone: 
 
 " ' This is too bad! here I've ben laying on the 
 floor in the depot all night, and now I can't find a 
 place to set.' 
 
 " A gentleman sprang from his seat, and said: 
 
 " ' That is too bad; here's a place set here! ' 
 
 " Amid a noisy burst of merriment that surprised 
 him, the man took the offered seat." * 
 
 The professional season of 1 860-61 witnessed a new 
 departure on Mr. Gough's part. Until now he had 
 spoken invariably upon temperance. He was suffering 
 in body and mind from this "harping on one string." 
 
 1 "Autobiography," p. 524. 2 " Autobiography," p. 535.
 
 212 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 He realized the need of variety in his labors if he 
 would preserve his health and continue his useful- 
 ness. Thus far, he had acted as a guerilla in the 
 lecture field. The Lyceum courses of the States had 
 almost never announced his name in their annual 
 lists of lecturers. The fault was not theirs, but his. 
 He had preferred to remain an outsider. The Lyceum 
 method was to engage six, eight, or ten different 
 names, as diversified as possible; his was, to give 
 courses himself. At this time he was besieged with 
 applications from Lyceum committees each mail 
 brought them by the dozen, from all points of the 
 compass. Often they asked for a temperance lec- 
 ture; frequently the demand was for another theme. 
 After prolonged consideration, Mr. Gough consented 
 to prepare a lecture on " Street Life in London " a 
 taking caption, and a topic upon which he could speak 
 con amore. Very reluctantly and timidly he set about 
 his task. Even more unwillingly did he appear in 
 public with the result, visible in the shape of a pile 
 of manuscript laid before him, and before all, upon 
 the table. It was in New Haven, Connecticut, and 
 in the Library course on November 2ist, 1860. The 
 effort was a complete success. The notes did not 
 interfere with his delivery; because, though he spoke 
 from them, it was away from them! This New Haven 
 success was repeated in Boston, Providence, Wor- 
 cester, and elsewhere. 
 
 Encouraged by the approbation accorded to his 
 maiden effort, the orator prepared another lecture 
 " Lights and Shadows of London Life," which was 
 equally well received. Others followed on other 
 topics, usually a new one each season; " Here and
 
 A CHANGE OF BASE. 213 
 
 There in Britain," " London," " Eloquence and Ora- 
 tors," " Peculiar People," " Fact and Fiction," 
 " Habit," " Curiosity," " Circumstances," and many 
 more all immensely popular, treated in a masterly 
 way, and combining entertainment and instruction 
 after the fashion characteristic of the author. 
 
 In entering the Lyceum Mr. Gough came in direct 
 competition with the great speakers of the country, as 
 he had not done before, in a way which inevitably sub- 
 jected him to comparison. He lacked the classic finish 
 of Wendell Phillips, the rhetorical graces of Edward 
 Everett, the piquancy of Starr King, the magnificent 
 elocution of Dr. E. H. Chapin, the scholarly elabora- 
 tion of Charles Sumner, the Addisonian style and 
 witchery of Geo. Wm. Curtis, the " Beecherisms" of 
 Plymouth Church's unprecedented Boanerges but 
 he had a charm and versatility all his own, and was 
 and ever remained the only Gough! As for that 
 supreme test of popularity, the ability to draw, he 
 was from first to last the most reliable name on any 
 and every lecture list, from the Bay of Fundy to the 
 Golden Gate. 
 
 Like all men of strong personality and aggressive 
 earnestness, Mr. Gough had plenty of enemies both 
 within and without the pale of temperance. These 
 eagerly seized upon this change of base, and widely 
 heralded it " a desertion of the cause." The lie 
 refuted itself. For those who heard the new lectures 
 perceived that the lecturer invariably worked into 
 each prominent and repeated references to his old 
 theme. Moreover, he continued throughout his life, 
 whenever an opportunity occurred, to speak solely 
 upon temperance, and often at his own charges.
 
 214 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 An idea of the demand for Mr. Gough's services 
 may be gotten from the fact that in some years he 
 refused upwards of one thousand applications. He 
 devoted eight months to the platform, now as for- 
 merly, and four to rest and preparation; and de- 
 livered from one hundred and sixty to one hundred 
 and eighty lectures in a twelvemonth. 
 
 It was said, as though it were a sin, that " Mr. 
 Gough grew rich on temperance." Supposing it 
 were true, did he not constantly assert that there was 
 more wealth in temperance than in drunkenness? 
 Should it have surprised anybody that the most pop- 
 ular speaker in the English world for forty-three, 
 years, was well paid ? How was it with successful 
 men in other spheres? Men of equal prominence in 
 the law got $50,000 and $100,000, in single cases. 
 Popular physicians had incomes of $50,000 per annum. 
 As for successful men of business, they became mill- 
 ionaires. In the smallest places visited by Mr. Gough, 
 there were sure to be men who had made fortunes 
 out of some patent for a sleeve cuff-button, or by an 
 invention to cut up hogs more expeditiously. Why 
 " should not a man who went about doing good," and 
 never spoke for nearly half a century without facing 
 a crowd that taxed the hall or church in which he 
 appeared, make money? Mr. Gough did not accumu- 
 late as he might have done, because he had many and 
 large demands on his purse. " Hillside " was a free 
 hotel. He supported a number of people wholly or in 
 part; some who had only a sentimental claim upon him. 
 He gave or lent (which he found equivalent to giving!) 
 to all who could trump up a decent story of deserter 
 want. These are not the roads to wealth. Hence, his
 
 A CHANGE OF BASE. 215 
 
 chief possessions were a generous heart and an open- 
 hand a few thousands only remained at the last to 
 divide among heirs. 
 
 Mr. Gough was sensitive on this point. He made 
 a detailed statement of his average receipts for lec- 
 tures from the commencement of his career until the 
 period of the war, which we subjoin: 
 
 Average Average 
 
 Year. per Lecture. Year. per Lecture. 
 
 1843 $ 2.77 1854 $48.46 
 
 1844 7-29 1855 50.14 
 
 1845 1442 1856 63.73 
 
 1846 20.52 1857 62.90 
 
 1847 21.06 1858 47.88 
 
 1848 17.28 1859 49-3 2 
 
 1849 19.12 1860 60.10 
 
 1850 24.36 1861 88.37 
 
 1851 21.80 1862 90.83 
 
 1852 21.67 1863 104.94 
 
 1853 25.33 
 
 Out of these sums, however, came all his expenses, 
 including a traveling companion (usually Mrs. Gough, 
 in earlier years, and, later, either an agent or a niece). 
 From the year 1863 forward, Mr. Gough's fees 
 were higher than the highest of the averages he 
 tabulates. But it was money earned and merited, 
 and satisfactory alike to the payers and the payee. 
 In connection .with his table of receipt-, Mr. Gough 
 says : 
 
 " Let it stand; leaving me to be glad that to the temperance 
 cause will be given the honor of one of its advocates seeking 
 to advance it according to his ability, and his family not ask- 
 ing bread' when he is laid aside his work done. I have never 
 
 " Autobiography," pp. 247, 248.
 
 2l6 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 felt it an honor to the cause that its chosen workers should be 
 so ill-provided for in its service, that the posthumous testi- 
 monial, or the earlier subscription paper, should be the only 
 reliance of broken health, or support of beloved ones." l 
 
 The years immediately following the temperance 
 dvocate's return to America from his second British 
 ampaign for reform, were the most terrific in the 
 istory of the New World the years of the Civil War. 
 [e was a loyal American, anti-slavery, freedom-lov- 
 ng, and therefore intensely sympathetic with the effort 
 o emancipate the slaves and save the Union. He 
 cquitted himself as a patriot should, and put voice 
 nd purse at the command of the country in " times 
 that tried men's souls." We yield the floor to Mr. 
 Gough, and let him summarize his connection with 
 the historic struggle in his own language: 
 
 " I did what I could in aid of our noble soldiers who fought 
 and suffered for the dear old flag, and the perpetuity of the 
 Union. While memory serves me, I shall never lose out of it 
 those years so full of thrilling interest, from the first cry of the 
 ' bombardment of Fort Sumter,' that woke the echoes of the 
 silent streets at midnight. Then followed the running to and 
 fro, and men's voices were heard like the lowmutterings of the 
 coming storm. How I live over and over again that first 
 dreadful, half-waked sense of the nation being suddenly called 
 to suffer and sacrifice. Boys seemed to have become men, 
 and men more manly in a night. Then came the tramp of 
 armed men, not for review but service, stern, hard service. 
 How men sang ' Glory, Hallelujah ! ' in the streets as they 
 marched, while women wept. How vivid is the remembrance 
 of the sleepless nights, while our army seemed like endangered 
 absentees from home, of the first news of battle, then of 
 
 1 " Autobiography," p. 249.
 
 A CHANGE OF BASE. 21 7 
 
 disaster, the terrible days in the Chickahominy, the Wilder- 
 ness, the suspense about Petersburg, the defeats that were 
 but steps to victory, hope and fear alternating, then how 
 the horizon grew brighter as we came to the Emancipation 
 Proclamation, and through all this the long lines of hospitals 
 all over the land, full of suffering, and not seldom, too, of a 
 glory not of this world, the homes where sorrow came and 
 staid, the uncounted heroisms, the shameful defections, 
 and the quiet, watchful, trustful attitude of the black race, on 
 either side of which such powers were arrayed, and over whose 
 rights this long conflict really raged, while the whole nation 
 was learning to' suffer and be strong.' Not until many years 
 of peace shall we be able to estimate truly the times when 
 every ear was strained to catch tidings from every breeze, and 
 the years were full of the most sublime history." ' 
 
 1 " Autobiography," pp. 546 and 547.
 
 II. 
 
 FETE DAY AT " HILLSIDE." 
 
 MR. AND MRS. GOUGH had no children. They man- 
 aged to keep their house full of little ones for 
 all that. When Mrs. Gough's younger brother died, 
 in 1860, he left his widow with five girls and a 
 son. Five of these were domesticated at " Hillside." 
 One of the girls (Mamie) died after a few years. The 
 rest were fathered and mothered by John and Mary 
 Gough, and trained for usefulness. "Since 1860," 
 he remarks, " seven children have been members of 
 our family; so if children are sunbeams, our home 
 has been bright with them." 
 
 After the death of Mrs. Jane Gough, Mr. Gough's 
 father had married again. A half-brother by this 
 marriage had come to " Hillside " in 1848, at five years 
 of age, and had been likewise looked after and settled 
 in life. The orator's married sister had three sons. 
 That family was prosperous, and required no aid. 
 The half-brother resided in Worcester. The sister's 
 home remained in Providence, whither she had gone 
 at her marriage. 
 
 In 1868, November 24th, the twenty-fifth anni- 
 versary of the marriage of John and Mary Gough oc- 
 curred. " Let us have a silver wedding ! " cried the 
 young folks at " Hillside." The couple immediately
 
 FETE DAY AT "HILLSIDE." 2ig 
 
 concerned, shook their heads they would not come 
 before their friends as beggars of presents, and wished 
 the celebration to be confined to their own household. 
 It was not so to be. The date became known. Friends 
 in Worcester and in Boston insisted upon a demon- 
 stration. Other friends across the sea were reached 
 and interested by correspondence. The Goughs 
 finally agreed to keep open house on the occasion. 
 Special express trains ran east and west, to and from 
 Worcester for the f$te. Free coaches were driven 
 from the city to " Hillside " and back again. Hun- 
 dreds of well-wishers thus appeared and disappeared. 
 Refreshments were provided in abundance, and the 
 tables, set both in the dining and the breakfast rooms, 
 were occupied by a constant succession of guests. 
 After extending their congratulations, visitors wan- 
 dered through the house, admiring the nicknacks 
 scattered around, each one a gift, and thus freighted 
 with significance, the silver ink-stand on the library 
 table, the set of English china, with a portrait of 
 Mr. Gough on each piece, the superb collection of 
 Cruikshankiana (twelve hundred plates), the endless 
 photographs presented by different temperance soci- 
 eties, the English farewell gift of plate, in 1860, 
 the welcome signed by nearly five hundred ministers 
 of all denominations on his return to the United 
 States, the memorials signed by leading citizens on 
 both sides of the Atlantic, in honor of John B. Gough 
 at various times, above all, the great volumes of sig- 
 natures to the temperance pledge, procured by Mr. 
 Gough himself, over one hundred and fifty thousand 
 in number, all were viewed, commented upon, and 
 carefully replaced where found.
 
 220 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 Public exercises were held in the " Hillside " gym- 
 nasium. Addresses were made by representative 
 men, valuable presentations of silver followed, and 
 one of the recipients, speaking for "self and Mary," 
 replied at length. We give his closing sentences: 
 
 " I must be permitted to say how gratifying it is to me on 
 this occasion to be surrounded by so many of my Worcester 
 friends. You knew me, many of you, in the darkest days of my 
 life, in my poverty and obscurity. You have seen me among 
 you, going in and coming out before you these many years. 
 In Worcester I signed the pledge; in Worcester I married; in 
 Worcester I have lived and been known so long ; and it is par- 
 ticularly gratifying to me to know that you who know me best, 
 should see fit to offer this splendid testimonial of your esteem 
 and confidence." l 
 
 The presents came from everywhere across the 
 continent and across the sea. They were very nu- 
 merous and very valuable, and hence were- kept in a 
 safe-deposit vault. But their highest value lay in the 
 thought and esteem of which they were the visible and 
 beautiful expression. 
 
 A few days afterwards, Mrs. Gough uttered her 
 feelings in the following letter, addressed to the Com- 
 mittee of Arrangements, which we quote, because it 
 refers to and brings out a trait in her husband's char- 
 acter well worthy of emphasis: 
 
 "HILLSIDE," November 28, 1868. 
 
 " GENTLEMEN As I return to the accustomed quiet of our 
 home again, after the stir and anticipation of our ' silver- 
 wedding ' day, and live over in memory the brightness of that 
 event, I feel that we owe you no common thanks, for ' pleas- 
 
 1 " Autobiography," p. 543.
 
 FETE DAY AT "HILLSIDE." 221 
 
 ures of memory ' beyond our thought, and for organizing an 
 opportunity for such beautiful expressions of good will as met 
 us then. 
 
 " Whenever we look over the receding years, it will hence- 
 forth always be that we must do so through that bright day in 
 November, 1868, when yourselves and so many others recog- 
 nized so delightfully both the toils and the results of those 
 varnished years. 
 
 " It has given fresh impulse to our grateful remembrance of 
 the God and Saviour who has led us so lovingly all the way; 
 and we do not forget that He has ordered, that though a cool 
 draught by the wayside-spring does not release from all sense 
 of a toilsome path, it does so refresh as to strengthen for the 
 'hill difficulty ' of the future. 
 
 " In all the kind things said and done that day for myself 
 personally, there was one omission, and that inevitable under 
 the circumstances. In the recognition of my husband's work 
 and life in the past twenty-five years, none but myself could 
 have said how much I was indebted for whatever of success has 
 been my own in our united lives, to the generous trust and 
 confidence, the unfailing regard, that have always recognized 
 our interests as one, which have left head and hands free, 
 made such a thing as a struggle for ' rights ' unnecessary, and 
 rejoiced in such fruitage of that trust and love as makes the 
 bond that binds us together so much stronger than twenty-five 
 years ago, while losing not the greenness and freshness of its 
 earlier time. 
 
 " With heartfelt thanks for all the wide and substantial sym- 
 pathy expressed on that occasion, and with the hope that the 
 truest peace may always abide in the homes represented at 
 ' Hillside,' on that day, I am, gentlemen, 
 
 " Very gratefully yours, 
 
 "MARY E. GOUGH." 1 
 
 Mr. Gough's little " Autobiography," prepared and 
 
 1 Autobiography," pp. 543, 544.
 
 222 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 published at the outset of his career, had been so 
 steadily popular and useful, that his friends urged 
 him to revise and enlarge it, and bring it down to date. 
 This task he was prevailed upon to undertake. The re- 
 sult was the large volume entitled, "Autobiography 
 and Personal Recollections of John B. Gough," which 
 Cruikshank partially illustrated, and which appeared in 
 1871. "Tis intensely readable; but would have been bet- 
 ter had some literary friend revised it. This, however, 
 was another of Mr. Cough's touchy points. He never 
 claimed any literary ability; but he did wish to be 
 thought the author of his own book. So much had 
 been said regarding the first "Autobiography's" not 
 being his own production, that he resolved to fore- 
 stall all denial of his paternal relation to the second, 
 by keeping the manuscript and proof-sheets wholly 
 in his own hand. He thus secured his credit as a 
 writer, but injured his reputation as an author. 
 
 With regard to the disputed authorship of the 
 original life, he says: 
 
 "John Ross Dix, then calling himself John Dix Ross, was 
 an inmate of my family, and I. pacing the room, dictated the 
 matter to him, he being a good shorthand writer. When he 
 had copied it out, we read it together and made alterations ; 
 and I wish to state that, excepting only three, or at most four, 
 instances, my language, not his, was used." ' 
 
 The speaking and the writing habits are distinct. 
 Great speakers have seldom been great writers. The 
 elaboration and condensation, essential in composi- 
 tion, refine away and destroy the idiomatic energy 
 and fire which make the charm of popular oratory. 
 
 1 " Autobiography," p. 545.
 
 FETE DAY AT " HILLSIDE. 223 
 
 Addison said he could not think without a pen in his 
 hand. A pen in the lips usually gags the most elo- 
 quent of men. Mr. Gough was not an exception to 
 this rule. He wrote entertainingly, but often incor- 
 rectly. Inaccuracies, unnoticed in the rush of his 
 utterances on the platform, insist on notice in cold 
 type. However, the autobiographer never aimed at 
 a literary reputation, and would probably have dis- 
 missed criticism, as Father Taylor, the famous pastor 
 of the Boston Seamen's Bethel, used to do " My 
 verb has lost its nominative, but I'm bound for the 
 Kingdom of Heaven! "
 
 III. 
 
 FOOTPRINTS OF RUM. 
 
 
 
 A RUMSELLER attended one of Mr. Gough's lectures 
 at Portsmouth, New Hampshire, in the 'seventies. 
 The speaker had referred to the "damnable results" 
 of the liquor traffic. 
 
 " Mr. Gough," said the rumseller, " I've been in the 
 business you denounce all my life I never saw the 
 'damnable results' which you paint in such lurid 
 colors." 
 
 " Well," was the reply, " suppose that, standing 
 here in Portsmouth, you should take a gun and begin 
 to fire it across the Piscataqua river in the direction 
 of Kittery, on the opposite bank. Presently, some 
 one rushes over here and says, ' Stop that firing! 
 You've killed half a dozen people over there in Kittery, 
 already,' 'Pshaw!' you answer. 'I've stood here 
 and fired a good many times I've never seen any 
 dead folks.' ' No,' retorts the man from Kittery, 
 ' because you are not where they are. If you want to 
 know the facts in the case go where the shots strike. 1 " 
 We propose in this chapter to follow Mr. Gough to 
 the places where the shots strike. 
 
 He had been struck himself. He could and did 
 speak from experience. He knew that the first 
 "damnable result" of the drink is felt and shown by
 
 FOOTPRINTS OF RUM. 225 
 
 the victim. His nature is inverted. The will, the 
 heart, the actions are all twisted from normal into 
 abnormal relations. A rational being becomes irra- 
 tional. A man is turned into a devil. Whiskey " sits 
 as God in the temple of God." The drunkard's lit- 
 urgy is mania a potu. Self-respect gone, honor gone, 
 natural affection gone, industry gone, reputation 
 gone, property gone; such are the common concom- 
 itants of drunkenness. 
 
 Mr. Gough tells of two clergymen of whom he had 
 personally known. The first, was one of the best 
 Greek scholars of the day. He began to drink; sank 
 low and lower; and was one day dragged half- 
 naked from under the bench of a dive. He was taken 
 to the house of a friend, kept there four weeks, and 
 sent away " clothed and in his right mind." While in 
 the house of his benefactor he stole postage-stamps 
 to exchange for liquor. And ten days after he went 
 away, he was discovered sans hat, sans coat, sans 
 shoes, sans everything, drunk and begging for alms! 
 
 The second of this clerical brace was a man under 
 whose ministry thousands once sat with profit. 
 Drink brought him so low that he often preached one 
 or another of his old sermons in the bar-room of a 
 tavern to degraded men and dissolute women for ten 
 cents ! 
 
 " I saw an interesting little girl, who had hip com- 
 plaint," says Mr. Gough. " Her mother sold her to a 
 villainous tramp for two pairs of stockings then 
 sold the stockings and got drunk on the proceeds." 
 
 This leads us to call attention to a second " dam- 
 nable result " of drinking, viz., its domestic ravages. 
 Whatever deteriorates a man deteriorates his sur- 
 
 15
 
 226 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 roundings, and especially his dependants. The 
 drunkard's family is, by common consent, the most 
 pitiable of objects. " I have witnessed scenes," re- 
 marks Mr. Gough, " that have haunted me for days. 
 In company with a friend, I once called on a man 
 who had formerly been a gentleman of position, but 
 who was now living on an annuity of $500 a com- 
 parative pittance saved from the wreck of his fortune. 
 His wife, a woman of refinement, had been very ill. 
 When we arrived we found the man drunk, sitting by 
 the fire, smoking, the wife lying dead on a miserable 
 pallet in the room. The drunkard was making a 
 great noise, and declaring she was not dead. The 
 gentleman with me laid his hand on him and said : 
 
 " ' Now, you keep still ; your wife lies there dead, 
 and I will not permit this noise.' 
 
 " The drunkard sprang to his feet, exclaiming : 
 "' I'll let you see whether she is dead or not.' 
 " Before we could prevent, he sprang like a demon 
 to the bedside, and dealt on the upturned face of the 
 dead woman a terrific blow with his fist. Oh, I heard 
 the sound of that blow for weeks, at night and by 
 day ! " 
 
 Here are some extracts from a letter written in 
 Philadelphia to Mr. Gough, revealing scenes in a 
 domestic tragedy in that city : 
 
 " Some few years ago I was in business at No. 30 Market 
 
 street, at which time a man named J C applied to me 
 
 for work. He was quite genteel in appearance, and I gave 
 him work, which was satisfactorily done. For some time I 
 continued to employ him ; but he seldom came himself for or 
 with his jobs. His wife was in the habit of coming to the 
 store, and on one occasion I asked her why John did not him-
 
 FOOTPRINTS OF RUM. 227 
 
 self bring in the work, when she reluctantly told me of her 
 fears to trust him out, if it could be avoided, lest in his weak- 
 ness he should drink to excess, when he was sure to abuse 
 her. So long as he kept from liquor, however, he was affec- 
 tionate, industrious, and as good a husband as any woman 
 could wish for." 
 
 After relating scenes of distress, imprisonment, 
 brutality almost beyond belief revelations of sicken- 
 ing and revolting cruelty he goes on : 
 
 " They had adopted a child, and John was very fond of the 
 babe, and his wife became very much attached to it. 
 
 " He left home one morning early, came back about eleven 
 o'clock; he was drunk, and he then said that it was time the 
 child had gone after its mother that he was not going to be 
 troubled with other people's brats. However, he soon went 
 out again, and did not return home until just about dusk. 
 When he staggered up-stairs, the windows in the room were 
 raised, as the weather was quite warm. His wife was just in 
 the act of lighting the lamp as John went over to the settee, 
 upon which she had just laid the child. Without a single 
 word, he picked up the child and threw it out the window. 
 The woman flew down the stairs to the street, and there she 
 found the babe it was dead; the head was smashed. She 
 fainted at the sight. Oh, it was horrible ! A crowd soon col- 
 lected. She was, with the child, taken into the house. And 
 now she was in a dilemma; her husband was a murderer, and 
 yet she loved him still ; for she knew, or felt then, that it was 
 not his nature to commit a violent wrong, save when his action 
 was controlled by rum. She therefore sought by stratagem to 
 release him from any charge, and battled a little while with 
 her conscience, and then, with grief and sorrow depicted on 
 her countenance, she told these persons around her that she 
 had been sitting at the window with the child in her arms, 
 where she had fallen asleep, and that the child rolled out of 
 her arms and fell to the pavement. Unfortunately for her, she
 
 228 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 was believed. The child was buried, and there was nothing 
 afterward said about it. John sometimes spoke of it, but never 
 without bringing tears in his eyes. She believed that he never 
 forgave himself for having committed the murder." 
 
 The man's habits grew worse. At last, after suffer- 
 ing the torments of the damned, his wife left him. 
 He could not discover her whereabouts. The writer 
 goes on : 
 
 " One Sunday he came to my house, and. as he appeared to 
 be sober, I invited him in. He apologized for calling on 
 Sunday, but wished to know if his wife still worked for me, or 
 if I had seen her lately. I told him she had done no work for 
 me for many months, and that the last time I saw her she told 
 me she was living in New Jersey. He then said that he met 
 her in the street the night before (Saturday) ; that she would 
 not speak to him ; and that if he could find her he would kill 
 her. He appeared much irritated. I then talked with him, 
 and tried to convince him that he alone was in fault ; that if 
 he would abandon rum there was no doubt happiness in store 
 for him ; that I would give him employment ; and that if he 
 would keep sober and industrious his wife would find it out 
 and return to him. I suppose he staid an hour; and before 
 he left he became softened, and promised to reform. 
 
 " On the following Sunday, about noon, as I was walking in 
 the neighborhood of the Exchange, I saw a crowd around a 
 bulletin board. I crossed over, and judge of my surprise when I 
 read as follows : ' Horrid Murder f Last evening, at nine o'clock, 
 
 a man named John C , a tailor by trade, followed his wife 
 
 into a house in Front street, below South street. She had been 
 out in the street for a bucket of water ; he saw and followed 
 her up into the third story, when he stabbed her in forty differ- 
 ent places. The screams attracted persons to the spot ; and 
 when they attempted to take hold of him, he cut himself across 
 the stomach, and died in a few moments, having committed a
 
 FOOTPRINTS OF RUM. 229 
 
 double murder. At the inquest, it was proved that he was 
 under the influence of rum.'" 
 
 These incidents suggest a third "damnable result" 
 of this appetite crime. The chaplain of a prison 
 once told Mr. Gough that seven-ninths of the com- 
 mitments there were due to drink. Statistics show 
 that three-fourths of the crimes would be uncom- 
 mitted, and that three-fourths of the prisons would 
 be empty and useless, were it not for liquor. The 
 Bench and the Bar corroborate the statisticians. The 
 courts, the police, the whole repressive machinery of 
 government, from the arrest up to the gallows, are 
 the bubbles that float on a glass of rum. Mr. Gough 
 quotes an ex-convict as writing: 
 
 " During my stay in prison, the question kept rising in my 
 mind, what brings all these men here ? Day after day I asked 
 those with whom I came in contact, what brought them to 
 prison? I got as an answer the same dull, dismal old story, 
 over and over again rum did it." 
 
 In a letter to Mr. Gough, Canon Farrar refers to 
 an English temperance newspaper which habitually 
 publishes a ghastly column called, " Fruits of the 
 Traffic," made up of clippings from the daily press, 
 and adds: " This column records calamity after calam- 
 ity, crime after crime, shipwrecks, conflagrations, 
 kickings and tramplings of women, maimings and 
 murders of children, all of which are directly attrib- 
 uted to the effects of drink, by the declarations of 
 judges, by the reiterated testimony of witnesses, and 
 by the constant, remorseful confessions of the crimi- 
 nals themselves." 
 
 Experts, like Judge Noah Davis, of New York, and
 
 ?30 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 Mr. Fred H. Wines, together with a host of experi- 
 enced and impartial observers, confirm Mr. Gough's 
 " exaggerations," because they have seen where the 
 shots strike. 
 
 A fourth " damnable result " is the cost. Mr. Gough 
 figured it out in three columns. In the first column, 
 he set down the effects of liquor upon the individual, 
 the family, and the State, as outlined in this chapter: 
 this he called the moral cost. In the second column, 
 he placed the direct amounts expended for liquor 
 per annum; in the 'seventies, $750,000,000: this he 
 called the money cost to the consumers. In the third 
 column, he put the resultant pauperism, ; nsanity, 
 sickness, and crime. Three-fourths of the pauperism, 
 three-fourths of the insanity, three-fourths of the 
 sickness, and three-fourths of the crime are the spawn 
 of drinking habits. 1 Ciphering out the expenses thus 
 entailed, and adding it, the advocate of temperance 
 set down the stupendous total of $1,350,000,000! This 
 he called the indirect cost. Combining the totals of 
 the second and third columns (for 'tis impossible to 
 estimate the groans and tears and sorrows of the 
 first), Mr. Gough showed the aggregate annual cost 
 of the traffic in intoxicants in the United States, to 
 be $2,000,000,000. 
 
 The only possible offset to this sum, is the revenue 
 paid by liquor to the Federal, State, and local author- 
 ities $135,000,000. So that the yearly cost to the 
 American people of this trade is TWO THOUSAND MIL- 
 LIONS of hard dollars (less the $135,000,000 returned 
 
 1 Vide " Cyclopaedia of Temperance," Article on "Cost of the 
 Drink Traffic."
 
 FOOTPRINTS OF RUM. 23! 
 
 in taxes and licences) without going into the im- 
 possible mathematics of the degradation and misery 
 produced by it! ' Nor did John B. Gough leave the 
 matter here. Having traced the footprints of rum, 
 he proceeded to ask: 
 
 Are we to pass from chamber to chamber of this great 
 temple of abominations, and look at what we see, as though it 
 were a cabinet of curiosities, and gaze coldly on all these scenes 
 of shame and horror that are painted on its walls ; or are we 
 to l)e aroused by these facts merely to talk the vague language 
 of philanthropy, and to sigh over wretchedness, while we do 
 not so much as lift a single finger to help the wretched ? " 2 
 
 In the footprints of rum Mr. Gough recognized 
 the cloven foot of the devil. And he believed it to be 
 the coequal duty of Church and State to arrest and 
 chain this devil for two thousand million years a 
 year for every dollar he cost the country in a twelve- 
 month. 
 
 1 This cost annually increases at the rate of from $40, 000,000 to 
 $50,000,000. 
 
 2 The facts and statements in this chapter are taken from " Sun- 
 light and Shadow," chaps, xviii and xix. See also " Cyclopaedia of 
 Temperance," in loco.
 
 PART X. 
 The Third Rnglish Visit 
 
 "Ah, how good it feels! 
 The hand of an old friend." 
 
 LONGFELLOW, Christus, Part III.
 
 I. 
 
 AFTER EIGHTEEN YEARS. 
 
 ON the xoth of July, 1878, Mr. Gough accompanied 
 by his wife and two nieces, sailed for Britain once 
 more, to be gone for an indefinite time. His object 
 was rest, and not campaigning. But, in compliance 
 with urgent requests, he consented to make thirty 
 public addresses at strategic points. 
 
 The voyage was pleasant. Liverpool was safely 
 and duly reached. There it seemed as though all 
 temperance England had turned out to welcome the 
 world-famous native of Sandgate. " The National 
 Temperance League," the " United Kingdom Alli- 
 ance " (former rivals, now, happily, in harmony), 
 bands of hope, cold-water armies, local organizations, 
 large numbers of reformed men, many of them 
 rescued by Mr. Gough's eloquence or personal efforts, 
 all with banners flying, the rub-a-dub-dub of drums, 
 the blare of music, and hearty British cheers extended 
 a national greeting, and made the scene an epoch. 
 The address of welcome contained the names of one 
 hundred thousand teetotalers ! 
 
 By-the-by, Mr. Gough gives the origin of the term 
 teetotal. " At a meeting in Preston, England, he 
 says, at which Joseph Livesey (one of the founders of 
 the temperance movement in England) presided, a
 
 236 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 man named Dickey Turner said : ' Mr. Chairman, I 
 finds as how the lads gets drunk on ale an' cider, an* 
 we can't keep 'em sober unless we have the pledge 
 total ; yes, Mr. Chairman, tee-tee-total.' The man 
 was a stammerer, and the term was born of his 
 stammer. For Mr. Livesey instantly replied : ' Well 
 done, Dickey we will have it teetotal ! " ' Then 
 and there the first English total abstinence society 
 was formed. 
 
 From Liverpool, with his right hand aching and 
 his ears ringing, the tourist went to London magnifi- 
 cent and splendid ; rich, and poverty-stricken ; sober 
 and drunken; Christian, and pagan to change 
 Dryden a little 
 
 " A town so various that it seemed to be 
 Not one, but all mankind's epitome." 
 
 Here there was another hurricane of hospitable 
 enthusiasm. A garden-party was given in his honor 
 in the grounds of Westminster Abbey. Mr. Gough 
 remarks : 
 
 " If it is true that there are ' sermons in stones,' where shall 
 we go for a better sermon than to Westminster Abbey ? 
 It stands gray and hoary and majestic, rich with the memories 
 of the past, and consecrated with the bones and ashes and 
 reputations of the great ! All that Britain contained or con- 
 tains of the illustrious or good, of genius or culture, have 
 trodden its aisles, have come hither to worship, to admire, to 
 mourn, or, it may be, after life's fitful fever, to sleep. Here 
 majesty, amidst pomp and splendor, has assumed the crown, 
 and amid equal pomp and circumstance has laid it down ; here 
 the nation has mourned the bard whose verse is as immortal 
 
 " Platform Echoes," p. 550.
 
 AFTER EIGHTEEN YEARS. 237 
 
 as her tongue; and here she has wept the greatest of her 
 statesmen dead." J 
 
 For the benefit of untraveled readers, and to locate 
 the scene, Mr. Gough adds: " In the neighborhood of 
 the Abbey we are in the center of English civiliza- 
 tion, and near the brain of government that Down- 
 ing street from which England, Scotland, Wales, 
 Ireland, aye, and lands remote, peopled by alien races, 
 professing alien creeds, speaking alien tongues, are 
 ruled; Royalty resides in close proximity; and in 
 ermined gown and solemn wig and official pomp, the 
 proud Peers of Britain assemble to legislate, not a 
 stone's-throw from this sacred shrine." a 
 
 Here, then, under the walls of historic Westminster, 
 within sight of St. Stephen's, the teetotaler was feted. 
 Around him thronged friends new and old among 
 the former, the American minister, and Dr. Arthur P. 
 Stanley, Dean of the Abbey, already an historic figure 
 in life, who spoke words of welcome, and personally 
 played the cicerone to his guest; among the latter such 
 of the " old guard " as survived for eighteen years 
 form a Niagara of fate into which friends as well as 
 enemies pour, and are lost in the ghastly spray! 
 Cruikshank, Dr. Guthrie, William Arnot, and many 
 more, were missing; and the thought of them, and 
 the heartache, brought a mist of tears into the visi- 
 tor's eyes while smiles were on his face a rainbow 
 athwart a storm-cloud. 
 
 After two or three weeks in the metropolis, during 
 which Mr. Gough and the ladies with him were the 
 recipients of marked social honors, the party crossed 
 
 1 " Sunlight and Shadow," p. 34. * " Sunliglit and Shadow," p. 34.
 
 238 JOHN B. COUGH. 
 
 to the Continent. We will not follow them thither. 
 They revisited the old haunts, snuggled into some 
 new ones, but upon the whole had a wet time, as the 
 weather was persistently unpropitious. Tourist life 
 on the Continent is absolutely dependent on sunshine 
 a butterfly existence while it lasts. Hence, the 
 Goughs, discouraged by the patter, patter, patter of 
 the rain, scudded back to London, and took lodgings 
 at No. 185 Piccadilly. They were gone a month. 
 
 We suspect, if the truth were told, that the busy 
 American, like most Yankees, natural or naturalized, 
 took his pleasures sadly, and rather hurried the ladies 
 on this trip. He was so used to work that he made 
 work of play. To do nothing but gape, and eat, and 
 sleep, and wake to gape again, made the restless lec- 
 turer more fidgety than ever. He had no time for 
 this he had just arrived; and no time for that he 
 was just departing. Perhaps it was just as well for 
 all concerned, that he should perspire back to smoky 
 London, where he would surely find plenty to do, 
 and vary his idleness. What a second nature habit 
 is ! Those easy-going saunterers on the Parisian 
 boulevards might have taught the rushing American 
 how to moderate his pace and enjoy himself. He 
 could certainly have taught them how to quicken 
 their saunter into usefulness, and find enjoyment in 
 the service of men. 'Tis pity they could not have 
 swopped habits for awhile. 
 
 Mr. Gough's initial speech was made in Mr. Spur- 
 geon's Metropolitan Tabernacle, on Tuesday evening 
 September 22d, to an audience of over seven thou- 
 sand people, with Sir Charles Reed, Member of Par- 
 liament, a prominent man " in the city," and a total
 
 AFTER EIGHTEEN YEARS. 239 
 
 abstainer in the chair. The speaker repeated his 
 earlier oratorical and moral triumphs. Although now 
 past sixty years of age, rotund in form, with Rip Van 
 Winkle beard and half-gray hair, his hearers of 
 eighteen years before marked no diminution in his 
 fire on the platform or his zeal off of it; while the 
 new generation acquainted with his name as a doubt- 
 ful tradition, heard and saw for themselves, and were 
 convinced that their elders had not exaggerated, and 
 could not overstate the happy fact. 
 
 The scene in Mr. Spurgeon's vast church, was re- 
 peated at each of the lecturer's thirty appearances in 
 various parts of Britain. But what amazed and de- 
 lighted Mr. Gough was the discovery that the cause, 
 of old denounced as fanaticism or weak sentimental- 
 ity, was now established upon a sure basis of recog- 
 nized common sense, and had won to its advocacy and 
 practise very many of the most able and prominent 
 of Englishmen and in all walks of life. A quarter 
 of a century earlier, ay, even eighteen years before, it 
 had been difficult to get anybody who was anybody 
 to preside at a teetotal meeting. Now it was a mere 
 question of selection the available celebrities were 
 countless. The New England teetotaler recites with 
 justifiable pride the names and titles of some of the 
 chairmen at his meetings in 1878. As he enumerates 
 them, there flit before us the men who made and 
 marked Great Britain in the middle of the nine- 
 teenth century: Samuel Morley, one of the merchant 
 princes and philanthropists of London, "a tall, well- 
 made man, with serious, but intelligent and attractive 
 face " Canon Farrar, as well known abroad as at 
 home, and author of the most popular of all recent
 
 240 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 lives of Christ William Lawson, M.P., with an in- 
 come of $500,000 a year, a "jolly good fellow," but 
 not in the bacchanalian sense, one of the wittiest men 
 then in public life the two leading physicians of the 
 day, Dr. Richardson and Sir Henry Thompson, 
 equally eminent as authors in their profession the 
 Lord High Chancellor, Earl Cairns, standing next to 
 the throne in official circles, and chairman of the 
 House of Lords, " a stately man, of chastened elo- 
 quence, who did not need his gown and wig, or a seat 
 on the woolsack, to impress the beholder" the Duke 
 of Westminster, "a small, thin, dark-complexioned 
 man, not celebrated as an orator," nor needing such 
 celebrity since he had enough as the wealthiest man 
 in England Samuel Bowly, a "city" magnate, tall, 
 erect, and manly, who showed at seventy how well 
 teetotalers can bear " the heat and burden of the day " 
 Sir Fitzroy Kelly, Lord Chief Baron of England, 
 "with a fine, expressive countenance, and a wonder- 
 ful power in his delivery, standing perfectly still, no 
 gesture, the thumb of his right hand in his waistcoat 
 pocket, simply talking" John Bright, an old friend, 
 new-met, greatest of England's orators in our day, 
 and the friend of America when she needed friends 
 in England; these, and many others, were pronounced 
 abstainers, and lent Mr. Gough the luster of their 
 presence when he spoke. 
 
 Quite as remarkable was the change in the attitude 
 of the Established Church towards temperance re- 
 form and reformers. Previously, a teetotal clergy- 
 man of the Church of England was as rare as a white 
 blackbird. Now, most of the blackbirds had turned 
 white ! Ecclesiastical dignitaries crowded one an-
 
 AFTER EIGHTEEN YEARS. 241 
 
 other in their willingness to be identified with the 
 "Hillside" teetotaler while on his third circuit, and 
 jostled against civil officials, also " willin '," like Bar- 
 kis. Canon Farrar presided twice when Mr. Gough 
 spoke in Exeter Hall. Dr. Temple, the Bishop of 
 Exeter the successor, before he entered the episco- 
 pate, of Dr. Arnold, as master of the famous school 
 at Rugby was in the chair when Mr. Gough lectured 
 at Plymouth. At Croydon, the Bishop of Rochester 
 presided; at Owestry, the Bishop of Bedford; at Ox- 
 ford, Canon Ellison; at Southampton, Bishop (then 
 Canon) Wilberforce; at York, the Dean of the famous 
 cathedral there; at Swansea, the Honorable Wm. 
 Henry Fox Talbot, a savant, with medals enough to 
 furnish a museum, the Lord Lieutenant, and " father 
 of the House of Commons"; in Dublin, the Lord- 
 Mayor; and in Glasgow the Lord-Provost, who also 
 entertained the Goughs at his palatial residence. At 
 Rochdale three Mayors were on the platform ('tis to 
 be hoped the speaker was quieter than usual that 
 night!) his Honor of Rochdale in the chair, and 
 their Honors of Bury and of Oldham,on either hand, 
 in the full insignia of their office. 
 
 Really, temperance had become fashionable in the 
 very realm of Bass's ale. Nor did the unwonted 
 presence of these grandees abash the orator or dull 
 the edge of his incisiveness. In one of his London 
 speeches he said: 
 
 " Last Sunday, between twelve and one o'clock, I went down 
 to the locality known as ' Seven Dials.' I went to see what could 
 be seen there. There were crowds of people in the street. 
 Many persons were surrounding an earnest temperance 
 reformer, who was telling them some wholesome truths. I 
 16
 
 242 JOHN B. COUGH. 
 
 looked at the people. There was one woman who seemed to 
 me to have but one garment on her. It was a cold day. She 
 stood shivering in the cold, but she had three pence in her 
 hand, and stood watching the door of ' The Grapes.' I saw 
 men hanging about,' licking their white lips, waiting for those 
 doors to open at one o'clock. 1 I saw boys and girls of fifteen 
 years of age, in the most wretched state of poverty. My heart 
 ached as I saw those crowds waiting for the public-houses to 
 open, all having their few pence clenched in their hands. The 
 temperance reformer who spoke to them, said : ' Why, some of 
 you haven't got any shirts on, and yet you are going to pay the 
 money that should go to buy some into the brewery. What is 
 the consequence ? The consequence is that you are shirtless, 
 and that the people who ought to be engaged in supplying 
 what you need, are without employment, because the ware- 
 houses are overstocked. Why don't you buy, and make a 
 market for linen, shirting, and leather, instead of making a 
 market for beer, when you get nothing but misery by it ? ' 
 
 " I stood and looked at the crowd, and then looked all over 
 the front of that public-house ; and (I speak my own senti- 
 ments) as I looked at the names on the sign 
 
 " ' Trueman, Han bury, and Buxton,' 
 
 I thought so help me God ! I would not have my name on 
 such a place for all the money spent in drink, and that is 160 - 
 000,000 sterling a year. It is to me astounding that in Eng- 
 land men should get their living and make money, and grow 
 rich out of the pennies of the poor." * 
 
 Great as the growth of temperance sentiment had 
 been, Mr. Gough realized, as he moved about, that it 
 must be even greater if England would witness the 
 abolition of her most appalling curse. 
 
 But it was encouraging to find the attention of 
 
 1 In London, public-houses were closed until that liour on Sunday. 
 
 2 " Platform Echoes," pp. 608, 609.
 
 AFTER EIGHTEEN YEARS. 243 
 
 Church and State directed to it, and the public con- 
 science wide awake. 
 
 Among those with whom Mr. Gough became in- 
 timate at this time were Joseph Barker and the late 
 Charles H. Spurgeon. He made pen-sketches of both 
 of them. With regard to the former he writes : 
 
 " Dr. Parker is a remarkable man. I often walked twice on 
 the Sabbath from Piccadilly to Holborn Viaduct, a distance of 
 two miles each way, and felt amply repaid for my eight miles' 
 walk. . . . Let me give my impressions on hearing him 
 for the first time. His first words revealed a magnificent 
 voice. The reading of the hymn convinced one that he had 
 studied elocution. The impressive manner in which he uttered 
 the sentence, ' Let us worship God,' showed his perfect control 
 over every intonation ; and the reading of the Scriptures mani- 
 fested his knowledge of the power of appropriate emphasis. 
 The prayer was beyond and above criticism. In the beginning 
 of his discourse I was disturbed and annoyed by his manner, 
 entirely new to me thoroughly different from anything I had 
 ever seen ; but I soon forgot his manner in the intense interest 
 awakened by the sermon. . . . His utterance of words and 
 sentences was occasionally startling. Once, in speaking of the 
 bulwarks that were being broken down in these days of lax 
 living and lax doctrine in the church, he said of one doctrine 
 after another, gone! the Devil, gone! and God going ! No 
 one can imagine the force and power of the intonation." ' 
 
 The American was a frequent visitor at Dr. Parker's 
 house, where he found the great preacher " childlike 
 not childish." Their interchange of thought and 
 feeling was free and stimulating. Referring to the 
 charge of egotism made against Dr. Parker, he says : 
 
 "What man, conscious of great power, with an influence 
 
 1 " Sunlight and Shadow," pp. 397 and 399.
 
 244 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 sufficient to establish and maintain a church so complete in all 
 its appointments, and with the ability to keep an audience 
 week after week and year after year, filling the spacious edifice, 
 with no diminution but rather an increase, till the place is be- 
 coming too strait; sustaining a Thursday-noon lecture at- 
 tended by thoughtful men who crave and can only be satisfied 
 with strong meat, and being able to meet all the demands of 
 the intellectual throngs who attend his ministry ; I ask, what 
 man, conscious of all this, must not necessarily be self-con- 
 fident, or rather self-reliant, and that not offensively ? There 
 are some men so painfully conscious of their defects, short- 
 comings, and failings, as not to realize and be thankful for the 
 gifts God has given them so excessively humble that their 
 superfluity of humility is as painful to witness as the egotism 
 of another." ' 
 
 Mr. Gough heard Mr. Spurgeon away back at the 
 time when both made their London entree. With a 
 limited education (four years at a common school in 
 Colchester, and a few months in an agricultural col- 
 lege at Maidstone), the inspired boy preached his 
 first metropolitan sermon to a congregation of two 
 hundred people in a church (Park Chapel) that seated 
 twelve hundred. " Before three months," says Mr. 
 Gough, " the question in London was - I remember 
 it well in 1853 ' Who is this Spurgeon ? ' ' 
 
 He appreciatively notes the successive upward steps 
 in the career of his friend: 
 
 " In one year Park Chapel was enlarged, during which time 
 Spurgeon preached in Exeter Hall. It was in that hall that I 
 first heard him, as a young man drawing immense audiences. 
 He had secured the ear of the people. In 1856 Park Chapel 
 was inadequate to receive the crowds who flocked to hear him, 
 
 1 " Sunlight and Shadow," p. 394.
 
 AFTER KTGHTFFN YKARS. 245 
 
 and the Royal Surrey Gardens Music Hall was engaged. 
 Here he preached to twelve thousand people every Sunday 
 until the present Tabernacle was finished in 1861. This seats 
 five thousand and five hundred persons, with standing-room 
 for one thousand more. When the Church removed from Park 
 Chapel it had eleven hundred and seventy-eight members. In 
 1877 the membership was five-thousand one hundred and fifty- 
 two. The immense amount of work performed by this one 
 man is astonishing. He has published fifteen hundred ser- 
 mons in volumes, and more than one hundred singly. He has 
 published a commentary on the Psalms in five volumes called 
 the ' Treasury of David.' He has issued sixteen other works, 
 beside compiling a hymn-book, conducting a monthly maga- 
 zine, and writing prefaces and introductions to other men's 
 works." 1 
 
 Mr. Gough, like every one else who heard him, was 
 instantly attracted by Spurgeon's voice "rich, 
 melodious, under perfect control. Twelve thousand 
 people could hear him distinctly in the open air, 
 twenty thousand in the Crystal Palace." 
 
 He drove Mr. Gough out to see his " Orphanage," 
 at Stockwell, where there was then two hundred and 
 forty orphans; and the visitor speaks enthusiastically 
 of what he saw especially of a scene at the bedside 
 of a little dying pauper waif, whom the great preach- 
 er's beneficence had rescued, and with whom he 
 engaged in prayer and conversation in the last dread 
 hour greater and grander, then, Gough thought, 
 than when swaying the mighty multitude at his will. 
 
 Of Spurgeon's pithy and quaint style, his friend 
 gives several specimens. A contentious man, he calls 
 "a stoker for Satan's fires." One who speaks well 
 
 1 " Sunlight and Shadow," p. 402.
 
 246 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 and means ill, he says, " hangs out the sign of the 
 angel, while the devil keeps the house." 
 
 The companionship of Parker and Spurgeon was a 
 well-spring of refreshment to Gough through all the 
 months of this third English visit. It was in the 
 latter's Tabernacle that he uttered his celebrated 
 witticism on the hornet: " We are assured that alco- 
 hol is nutritious it makes men lively! (a pause) well, 
 if a man should sit down cm a hornet's nest it would 
 make him lively but I question how much nutrition 
 there would be in it! "
 
 II. 
 
 THE STREETS OF LONDON. 
 
 BEING in London for recreation, with plenty of 
 time at his disposal, the New-England observer and 
 exponent of the poor and miserable, spent a great 
 many hours in the streets. They were to him thea- 
 ter, circus, panorama, church something of each 
 and a good deal of all. He was as fond of them as 
 Dr. Johnson was, as Charles Lamb was, as Dickens 
 was, and as Phillips was of the cow-path thoroughfares 
 of his native Boston. " The people in the London 
 streets, by day or night," lie confesses, " fascinated 
 me, and I never wearied of strolling about and watch- 
 ing them." 
 
 With regard to its demarcations, Mr. Gough re- 
 marks: 
 
 " London is several cities rolled into one. If you walk along 
 Regent street, it is a city of gorgeous shops; if you turn to the 
 West End, of parks and palaces; if you travel to St. Giles, of 
 gin and dirt; in Belgravia, it is grand and rich ; in Pimlico, it 
 is poor and pretentious ; in Russell Square, it is well-to-do. 
 . . . Fashion migrates to the west ; actors and musicians 
 live about Brompton ; the medical students take possession of 
 whole streets in the vicinity of their respective hospitals; the 
 inns of court are chiefly inhabited by barristers ; France, Italy, 
 Hungary, Poland, you will find represented by the cafs and 
 cigar-shops, billiard-rooms, and restaurants of Leicester Square ; 
 Wapping, Rotherhithe, and the Commercial Road abound with
 
 248 JOHN B, COUGH. 
 
 sailors of every nation under the sun ; Quakers live about Ed- 
 monton and Stoke- Newington ; Jews congregate in Hounds- 
 ditch. In short, the swells in the parks, the millers in Mark 
 Lane, the graziers in the new Cattle Market, the prim, pale 
 lads in ' the city.' the silk-weavers in Spitalfields, and the sugar- 
 bakers of Whitechapel, really form distinct communities, and 
 seem absolutely localized in their ideas." 
 
 As in all great cities, a crowd easily gathered. 
 
 " One evening," says Mr. Gough, " I started in a 
 cab from the Midland Railway station for Piccadilly, 
 accompanied by a lady. We had passed the ' Seven 
 Dials' and were in Gerard street, when the horse 
 staggered and fell. At once a crowd of men, women, 
 boys, girls, started out of the very ground. 
 
 " ' Vot's hup, cabby ? ' 
 
 " ' Vy, don't yer see vot's hup ? My "orse is down ; 
 that's vot's hup.' 
 
 " ' He's got the staggers,' said one, ' blest if he 
 'asn't.' 
 
 "'Vun of ye sit on 'is 'e'd, and vee'l git f im out of 
 the shafts in a jiffy,' said another. 
 
 " Such a din ! boys laughing, girls screaming at 
 every fresh struggle of the wretched horse, or pitying 
 him, with ' Poor thing ! Vot a shame ! ' The beer- 
 soaked cabman was perfectly bewildered. Some one 
 shouted ' 'Eres the bobbies ' (police). By their 
 direction, we transferred our luggage to another cab; 
 and, paying half a crown in fees, beside the cabby's 
 fare, we got away, leaving the poor horse on the 
 ground and the crowd undiminished." ' 
 
 Our stroller comments upon the street boys and 
 
 1 " Sunlight and Shadow," pp. 60-61.
 
 THE STREETS OF LONDON. 249 
 
 girls: " I found them, after twenty years, just the 
 same keen, sharp, impudent. Coming through the 
 Strand, a flake of soot fell on my mustache. I began 
 to run my fingers through the hair, when a ragged 
 bit of a boy looked up at me, and said, with a per- 
 fectly sober face, ' It looks werry nice, sir ! ' "' 
 
 Mr. Gough was amused yet saddened by these 
 children of the pave their home, a cellar their 
 father, a drunkard their mother, a shameless beggar 
 their sisters, with livid, withered, sad faces, plying 
 their dreadful trade the brothers, trained to crime, 
 and scientifically wicked. 
 
 " At one of the ragged schools, on a Sunday night," 
 he says, " as the clock struck eight, several of the boys 
 rose to go. ' The lesson is not over,' said the teacher, 
 ' stay.' The reply was, ' We must go to business.' 
 ' What business?' ' Why, we must catch the people 
 as they come from the churches and chapels.' They 
 were pickpockets!" 
 
 Dickens's picture of Fagin and his pupils was not 
 fiction, but fact. One of these boy thieves said to 
 Mr. Gough: " There ain't no genius in pickin' a 
 pocket; that's only slight o' 'and anybody could do 
 that. I'll tell yer vere the genius is. Ven you've got 
 a gent's vipe (handkerchief) out of his pocket, and he 
 turns round and says, ' Somebody's picked my 
 pocket! ' and you looks 'im right in the face, and says, 
 ' 'As there, sir ? that's werry 'ard on you sir, that's 
 cheek, that's genius.' " 
 
 Some of the explorer's experiences were far from 
 pleasant. 
 
 1 " Sunlight and Shadow," p. 61.
 
 250 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 " On a certain occasion," he writes: 
 
 " I was strolling on a tour of observation up Holborn Hill 
 it was before the splendid Holborn Viaduct was engineered 
 and I turned into Gray's Inn Lane. On the opposite side of 
 the street, around the entrance to a court, in a very bad local- 
 ity, I saw a group of tatterdemalions, men, women, and chil- 
 dren, some fluttering in rags, the very refuse of the slums, 
 evidently in a state of great excitement ; something out of the 
 common order had occurred. 
 
 " As I was curious to know, for I often learn some lessons from 
 the street folk, and get some ideas of strange phases of human 
 nature in a crowd, I crossed over. Expecting to hear some 
 foul language, somewhat in characaterwith the appearance of 
 the crowd I was approaching. I soon heard expressions like these : 
 ' Ah, God bless me. deary, deary me, poor thing: well, well, ah 
 well, poor thing.' These were words of sympathy from human 
 hearts for human sorrow. A man had fallen from a scaffold in 
 a neighboring street, and was being brought home dead ; and 
 all this commotion was sympathy for the newly-made widow 
 and her children. On the outskirts stood a very bad-looking 
 man, with the closely cropped bullet-head. The bull-neck, the 
 tiger-jaw, the small light-blue eye, made a sinister-looking 
 animal, one you would not care to meet alone in a dark street at 
 night. He had a cat-skin cap, a belcher handkerchief tied 
 round his neck, and he evidently belonged to what are termed 
 loosely the criminal classes. I said to him : 
 
 " What's the matter here, sir ? ' 
 
 " He turned his eye full on me for a moment, and then said 
 to the crowd : 
 
 " ' Stand out of the vay, vill ye ! 'ere's a swell vants to know 
 vat's the matter.' 
 
 " I was not much of a swell, but I did want to know what the 
 matter was. 
 
 " A woman told me the facts of the case, and pointing to a 
 miserably faded creature, with three or four ragged children 
 clinging to her skirts, said:
 
 THE STREETS OF LONDON. 251 
 
 '"That's the woman that's lost her husband.' 
 
 " I was startled by this time to find that the crowd had closed 
 in upon me, and I must confess I was frightened ; my knees 
 grew weak, and I felt a dryness of my lips and throat from 
 apprehension. Quickly it flashed through my mind quicker 
 than I can write it, ' Here I am in the midst of a crowd of 
 the worst characters in London. I am shut out from all help ; 
 no policeman near should they see fit to assault me. I have a 
 gold watch in my pocket, gold and silver in my purse. Some 
 of these men and boys are thieves by profession ; I do not like 
 it. They might strike me a blow, drag me down this court, 
 and no one would be the wiser. I should be missing,' etc.. etc. 
 All this was very foolish, perhaps. The bullet-headed man was 
 close to me, and I did not like that ; my sensations were not 
 agreeable. 
 
 " Summoning up courage, I turned to this man, and pointing 
 to the woman, I said : 
 
 " Is this woman very poor, sir ? ' 
 
 " He replied, savagely: 
 
 " ' Vat do you mean by that, hey ? Poor ? God Almighty 
 help the woman ! Look at her, vill ye ? ' 
 
 " I did look : all the womanhood apparently crushed out of 
 her. So I boldly pulled out my purse, as I said : 
 
 "'Well, she looks as if she needed help; poor thing, I am 
 willing to help her. I'll give her a half sovereign, if it will do 
 her any good. Shall I give it to you, sir, or to some of these 
 women, or shall I give it to the poor woman herself ? ' 
 
 " ' God bless you, sir,' said one of the women ; ' give it to "er; 
 she needs it bad.' 
 
 " ' Thank you, sir,' said another. 
 
 " One with a blackened eye, said, holding up a child : 
 
 '" 'Ere's one of the children, sir.' I turned to go away. A 
 passage was opened for me ; and though I am convinced there 
 were men there who would have garrotted me for a shilling, or 
 brained me for half a crown, yet every man as I passed out of 
 the crowd, touched his rag of a cap, and said, ' thank ye, sir!' 
 even my friend with the be'c'ier and the cat-skin cap fitting
 
 252 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 close to his cropped head, looked more like a human being 
 than an animal." 1 
 
 The London costermongers 2 (strolling retailers of 
 vegetables) greatly interested Mr. Gough. They form 
 a numerous class, numbering over sixty thousand. 
 He says of them: 
 
 " The working life of a coster is spent in the streets, and his 
 leisure is very much devoted to the beer-shop, the dancing-room, 
 and the theater ; yet there are exceptions, some of them being 
 very sober, orderly, God-fearing people. Home has few 
 attractions to a man whose life is a street-life. They have 
 their own beer-shops, theaters, and other places of amusement, 
 They are rather exclusive, and like to be let alone. They are 
 true to each other. If a coster falls ill, and gets into the hos- 
 pital, he is visited by scores of his fellows. 
 
 " Religion is rather a puzzle to the costermongers. They see 
 people coming out of church, and, as they are mostly well- 
 dressed, they somehow mix up being religious with being 
 respectable, and have a queer sort of a feeling about it. They 
 will listen to the street-preacher; but I think the most unim- 
 pressible of all with whom I have been brought into contact, 
 on purely moral and religious subjects, are the London coster- 
 mongers. They do not understand how it is possible that you 
 can feel any interest in their spiritual welfare ; but if you 
 relieve the necessities of any one in distress, you are at once 
 popular. 
 
 " Once near Houndsditch I saw some poor, pinched little 
 creatures playing in the gutter. I said to one, ' Do you want 
 an orange ? ' The child looked up, half timid, half scared, and 
 said nothing. I stepped up to the stand and took an orange, 
 and offered it to the child ; it was at once taken ; and then 
 
 1 " Sunlight and Shadow," pp. 139-144. 
 
 5 They got their name from a peculiar kind of apple, called 
 "costard," which they used to sell.
 
 THE STREETS OF LONDON. 253 
 
 they flocked around me, and I must have given twenty or 
 thirty oranges away, when I saw a group of costers looking 
 on. As I left the crowd, the men gave a hurrah, and said, 
 That's a gentleman '; whereas if I had offered them a tract, I 
 might have had some chaffing. 
 
 "The life of a coster-boy is a hard one from morning till 
 night : at first hallooing for his father, then in business for 
 himself with a barrow ; next he looks out for a girl to keep 
 house for him. Very many are not married to the women with 
 whom they live, yet they are very jealous, and sometimes 
 behave very badly to the girl. One fellow, about sixteen, said, 
 ' If I seed my gal a-talking to another chap, I'd fetch her sich 
 a punch of the 'ed as 'ud precious soon settle that matter.' 
 
 "These boys are very keen ; as an old coster said, ' These 
 yung 'uns are as sharp as terriers, and learns the business in 
 half no time. I know vun, hate years hold, that'll chaff a peeler 
 monstrous sewere.' 
 
 " As I said, they have strange ideas about religion. In the 
 ' London Labor and London Poor ' there are very many inter- 
 esting details in reference to this class. One of them said, ' I 
 'ave heerd about Christianity : but if a cove vos to fetch me 
 a lick of the 'ed, I'd give to 'im again, vether he was a little 
 vun or a big 'un.' The idea of forgiving injuries and loving 
 enemies seems to them absurd. One said, ' I'd precious soon 
 see a henemy of mine shot afore I'd forgive 'im.' Said another, 
 4 I've heerd of this 'ere creation you speaks about. In coorse 
 God Almighty made the world, but the bricklayers made the 
 'ouses, that's my opinion. I heerd a little about the Saviour: 
 they seem to say He vos a goodish sort of a man ; but if He 
 says that a cove is to forgive a feller as 'its 'im, I should say 
 that he knows nothing about it.'" ' 
 
 It would be endless to follow Mr. Gough in all his 
 investigations up in the garrets of poverty, down in 
 
 1 "Sunlight and Shadow," pp. 94-96.
 
 254 JOHN B. GOUGH, 
 
 the cellars of misery, among reeling sailors; in the 
 midst of prostitution, in front of gaudy " gin- 
 palaces " " blazing lighthouses of hell," enticing 
 and damning on every side. He paints them all as 
 with Hogarth's brush, or the pencil of his old friend, 
 Cruikshank. He likens himself, in these peregrina- 
 tions among the unsewered classes, to a farm-hand 
 who was constantly astonishing the old farmer for 
 whom he worked by doing unexpected things, and 
 who one day went into the barn and hung himself. 
 Looking at the dangling form, the farmer said: 
 " What on earth will that fellow do next ? " 
 
 What is English philanthropy doing to better this 
 badness ? Much. City missionaries are everywhere 
 afoot, devoting themselves chiefly to house-to-house 
 visitation. And these are reinforced bystreet preach- 
 ers a rough and ready, but devoted and effective, 
 body of Christian workers, many of them mechanics 
 and working men, who give their spare hours to this 
 service of humanity, and disclose great shrewdness 
 and ingenuity in their methods of approach and 
 address. 
 
 Moreover, there are abounding benevolent institu- 
 tions and reformatory refuges set down in the midst 
 of the greatest need, as centers of physical and moral 
 help. And they go about their work in the most 
 practical way giving a clean shirt before speaking 
 of a clean heart ; feeding hunger before exhort- 
 ing it ; nursing sickness before bidding it prepare 
 for death. This is the method of Christ, who incor- 
 porated His word of salvation in an act of salva- 
 tion, and reached and renewed the heart through 
 a renovated body. Mr. Gough was in hearty accord
 
 THE STREETS OF LONDON. 255 
 
 with such humanitarianism in religion believed in 
 and practised it. 
 
 As intemperance was the main cause of the 
 profligacy and squalor of the London streets, he was 
 glad to find that the temperance people were actively 
 engaged in the advocacy of their panacea along the 
 sidewalks. He met a noble lady, the Honorable 
 Maude Stanley, and frequently accompanied her in 
 walks of philanthropy. Under her guidance, he 
 remarks : 
 
 " I spoke in the vicinity of ' Five Dials ' to an audience ef 
 four hundred, gathered from the garrets and cellars of the 
 neighborhood, and after the address a temperance society was 
 formed. It was a motley crowd, presenting vivid contrasts. 
 There were the right honorable and the costermonger ; the 
 countess and the harlot ; the gentleman and the thief ; the refined 
 and the degraded ; the rich and the poor and the Lord, the 
 Maker of them all." ' 
 
 The result of that meeting was the opening of a 
 " coffee-palace," called the " Stanley Arms," on the 
 very spot, with Dean Stanley and other prominent 
 persons for its sponsors. Miss Stanley has written 
 often and admirably upon her work amcngthe lowly, 
 and the American found in her a kindred spirit. 
 
 Among the philanthropic agencies in London 
 streets, he mentions Hoxton Hall. This had been a 
 " music hall " a vile place, and the ruin of many 
 persons of both sexes, a temple of abominations. In 
 1878 it was converted into a Gospel station, similar 
 to Jerry McAuley's " Cremorne Mission," in New 
 York, which, indeed, suggested the idea. Mr. Gough 
 
 1 " Sunlight and Shadow," p. 160.
 
 256 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 was profoundly interested in this venture, and spoke 
 there repeatedly. One of these addresses, given 
 under the auspices of the Blue Ribbon Army (a tem- 
 perance organization connected with the hall), is thus 
 outlined by the London Times : ' 
 
 " On Saturday Mr. Gough, the temperance lecturer, addressed 
 an audience at the Hoxton Temperance Music Hall, Hoxton 
 street, composed mainly of 'reformed men and women.' The 
 hall was thronged an hour before the time announced for the 
 lecture. The audience was composed, with very few excep- 
 tions, of working men and women, and when the Rev. J. John- 
 stone, in the prayer prefacing the address, begged for the 
 Divine guidance on those who had fled from the temptations of 
 drink, a fervid ' Amen ' was murmured from many lips. Sacred 
 songs, under the leadership of Mr. William Noble, the honorary 
 director of the Gospel temperance movement, were sung very 
 heartily by the people, and Mr. Noble then asked all those who 
 had signed the pledge in that hall to stand up. Nearly the 
 whole of the audience rose, and he proceeded to say that 
 among those were many reformed drunkards, as well as re- 
 formed men and women who had been moderate drinkers. He 
 asked them to repeat their vow, and they, upstanding, solemnly 
 said, ' I promise, by God's help, to abstain from all intoxicating 
 liquors, and to discountenance their use in others. The Lord 
 help me to keep this vow for Christ's sake. Amen.' Mr. Noble 
 went on to say that Mr. Gough had given upwards of thirty 
 addresses to the working classes of London without fee or 
 reward, and in these the Hoxton people had largely shared. 
 
 " Mr. Gough had told the committee of the Blue Ribbon 
 Army, that if they cared to take a large hall and make a charge 
 for admission, his address should be in aid of the fund to carry 
 on that mission, and if they had done so there would have been 
 ten thousand people to hear him ; but the committee had de- 
 
 1 October 6, 1879.
 
 THE STREETS OF LONDON. 257 
 
 cided to have a meeting whereat the people who had been ben- 
 efited by Mr. Cough's labors could assemble to bid him fare- 
 well. Mr. James Rae, late of the Royal Artillery, Mr. Morgan, 
 and Mr. Robert Rae, the secretary of the National Temperance 
 League, then spoke, and acknowledged the services of Mr. 
 Gough to the temperance cause. 
 
 "On behalf of the mission, Mr. John Smith, a French-polisher, 
 presented Mr. Gough with an album containing portraits of 
 those who had firmly enlisted themselves in the Blue Ribbon 
 Army. When Mr. Gough stood forward to receive the gift, a 
 poor woman pressed to the front, and presented Mrs. Gough 
 with a bouquet of autumnal flowers. Mr. Gough, who was re- 
 ceived with repeated cheers, said he was unequal to the task of 
 making a speech that night, for he was quite exhausted. Touch- 
 ing, however, upon the fact of finding devoted gentlemen act- 
 ing as door-keepers to that hall, he said he would rather be in 
 that position himself than have all the profits of the largest Bur- 
 ton ale brewery for fifty years. He would rather have the 
 lowest menial position in a work like that of the Blue Ribbon 
 Army, than hold the highest position in a work coupled with 
 any action which would do harm to a single soul. He pro- 
 ceeded to address his audience upon the pledge which they had 
 repeated, and after remarking that it was thirty-seven years 
 since he had signed a similar pledge, he added that though he 
 could not excuse drunkenness, yet it must be allowed that the 
 circumstances under which drunkards were made were differ- 
 ent. The appetite for drink, once obtained, never wholly for- 
 sook men. They must pray to be kept from this appetite." 
 
 Yes, if there was sorrow in the streets of London, 
 there was also pity there. If Womanhood walked 
 discrowned and attended by demon shadows, Purity 
 also trod the pavements with her feet sandaled in 
 love. If Manhood hiccoughed and staggered along, 
 the angel of Sobriety steadied the bewildered feet and 
 guided them in ways of pleasantness and paths of 
 17
 
 258 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 peace. If children were trained to be professionally 
 wicked, they were also eagerly sought and taught to 
 be divinely good. Where peril lurked, like a bloody 
 leaper, ready to kill and craunch, safety was also am- 
 bushed to deliver and restore. 
 
 "Why do you not come any more for cold victuals?" 
 asked a lady of one of these street Arabs, whom she 
 had been in the habit of supplying. 
 
 "'Cos, ma'am," said he, "dad's signed the pledge, 
 and we git hot victuals at home! "
 
 III. 
 
 A SILVER TROWEL. 
 
 THERE is no form of human appreciation quite so 
 grateful to a prominent man as that which comes 
 from the scenes and associates of childhood. A 
 man's birthplace is apt to resent a success of which it 
 had no premonition, and in which it played no part. 
 The estimate it formed in " the day of small things," 
 it does not like to find mistaken. 'Tis an impeach- 
 ment of the local judgment. It prefers to believe 
 the outside world in error. Consequently, when his 
 birthplace is won to revise its first opinion and echo 
 a fellow townsman's honorable fame, he feels the 
 compliment, and gives it a value far beyond its actual 
 worth. 
 
 On the 5th of June, 1879, a recognition of this kind 
 made John B. Gough very happy. Sandgate in- 
 dorsed his standing in the world, and adopted him as 
 a kind of patron saint. 
 
 It had long been a desire of his to set in the center 
 of his native town a visible monument to temperance. 
 This desire ripened into a purpose. The practical 
 cast of his mind led him to prefer utility to ornamen- 
 tation both, if possible, but the first anyhow. " I 
 have it ! " he cried, " I will build a Coffee Tavern."
 
 260 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 Friends were consulted. Funds were quietly but 
 quickly collected. Mr. Gough, accompanied by a 
 throng of temperance co-workers, went down to lay 
 the corner-stone, on a date which marked, almost to 
 a day, the fiftieth anniversary of his departure to play 
 the part of Columbus and discover a name and repu- 
 tation in the world. 
 
 Sandgate was in gala-dress. The citizens lined the 
 sidewalks along the straggling street. A procession 
 composed of the local clergy, the military of the neigh- 
 borhood, the temperance societies, and the visitors, 
 with the orator in their midst, marched, with banners 
 flying and bands playing, toward the site of the new 
 hostelry. And now, see ! amid the cheers of the 
 throng, the people unharness the horses, and them- 
 selves drag the carriage in which the grizzled Sand- 
 gate boy sits blushing and embarrassed making 
 a scene quite like the triumphal march of Trajan 
 when he came back to Rome leading in the retinue 
 of his conquest the races and customs depicted on his 
 famous column, and encircling it from base to capital; 
 only this is a retinue of peace and good will. 
 
 The center of the village is reached. The orator 
 alights and delivers a characteristic address. He is 
 in his happiest mood. The people laugh and cry by 
 turns. The skies are in sympathy with temperance, 
 and baptize the occasion with copious showers of 
 cold water. No one cares ; no one moves. He takes 
 a silver trowel and with this lays the corner-stone of 
 "The Gough Coffee Tavern." The darkness falls. 
 The crowds disperse. And " God bless John Gough ! " 
 is the slogan of the hour. 
 
 Ever after, among all the trophies of love that dec-
 
 A SILVER TROWEL. 261 
 
 orate the home at " Hillside," this silver trowel holds 
 first place. Lift it, and read the inscription: 
 
 "PRESENTED TO 
 
 J. B. GO UGH, ESQ., 
 
 ON HIS LAYING THE 
 CORNER-STONE 
 
 OF 
 COFFEE TAVERN, 
 
 IN 
 
 SANDGATE, KENT, 
 JUNE 2D, 1879." 
 
 In looking about his birthplace, Mr. Gough was 
 glad to see marks of improvement. As the waters of 
 the channel rolled in upon the sands, erasing old im- 
 pressions and smoothing them for new ones; so had 
 the tides of time washed in and out of Sandgate, 
 obliterating something of the past and preparing 
 for the present. Certain landmarks were still visible 
 " the street," the older houses, the castle. But 
 since " the days of auld lang syne " the population 
 had multiplied three and a half fold, and now num- 
 bered 2,400; the outlying villas were more numerous; 
 the summer saunterers on the sands looked smarter; 
 the morale was higher, and smuggling had faded into 
 tradition. 
 
 Not long after the laying of the corner-stone the 
 "Gough Coffee Tavern" was completed and thrown 
 open, advertising its namesake in a significant man- 
 ner, and exemplifying his hospitable spirit towards 
 man and beast.
 
 PART XI. 
 
 The Hoary Head 
 
 " The hoary head is a crown of glory, if it be 
 found in the way of righteousness.' 
 
 PROV. xvi. : 31.
 
 OLD ACTIVITIES IN NEW RELATIONSHIPS. 
 
 THE preparation and publication of " Sunlight and 
 Shadow," in 1880, signalized Mr. Gough's return to 
 Yankeeland, in October, 1879. The book gave recent 
 British experiences, supplemented by incidents, anec- 
 dotes, and Goughtana, covering the decade since the 
 appearance of the revised and enlarged "Autobi- 
 ography," in 1871, and was itself richly autobiograph- 
 ical, and therefore athrob with vitality. Being 
 marked by all the peculiarities of its author, it met 
 with quick success. 
 
 There was a continuous demand for printed copies 
 of Mr. Gough's lectures. These were extant on both 
 sides of the Atlantic, in words snatched from his lips, 
 often incorrect (for he was the most impossible of 
 speakers to report) and full of absurd mistakes. 
 Thirty-six distinct lectures he had revised and al- 
 lowed to go out, in England, in a penny edition, one 
 lecture in each number, which sold to the extent of 
 1,000,000 copies. While in Great Britain three re- 
 porters from London followed him from place to 
 place. Four metropolitan journals printed his 
 speeches in full; many others abbreviated them; and 
 the provincial press was equally enterprising. More- 
 over, letters from the four quarters of the globe came
 
 266 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 to "Hillside" assuring the orator that the reading of 
 these speeches had been the means of leading many 
 to reform. 
 
 Influenced by these considerations, and encouraged 
 by judicious advisers, Mr. Gough issued " Platform 
 Echoes," in 1884, a book composed of temperance 
 and miscellaneous records of the platform, and pro- 
 fusely illustrated. It makes an interesting and 
 worthy memorial. But we regret the form of it. The 
 division into chapters is a poor substitute for a divi- 
 sion into speeches. The addresses are thus mutilated 
 and disguised. Moreover, since Mr. Gough so con- 
 sistently disclaimed authorship, and since he was an 
 acknowledged king of the platform, he might more 
 wisely have collected his lectures, and given them to 
 the world in an authentic edition. " Platform 
 Echoes," instead of being a book of scrappy chapters, 
 ought to have been a volume of connected public 
 addresses. However, like its predecessors, it circu- 
 lated readily and rapidly and continues so to do. 
 
 Although never a partisan, the reformer was a 
 party man. He recognized the truth that in a free 
 country, government must be administered by party. 
 Since its organization at Philadelphia, in 1856,116 had 
 acted with the Republican party. Its leaders had 
 been his personal friends. Its history he read in the 
 grandest achievements of the nineteenth century. In 
 later years, however, its course had been marked by 
 moral vacillation. From the temperance stand- 
 point, the " party of moral ideas" was immoral. It 
 had made promises before election to hold Prohibi- 
 tion voters, and broken them after election as easily 
 and jauntily as dicers break their oaths. Temperance
 
 OLD ACTIVITIES IN NEW RELATIONSHIPS. 267 
 
 men, like Clinton B. Fisk and Governor St. John ; 
 moral reformers, like Frances E. Willard and Mary A. 
 Livermore, were disgusted out of Republicanism. 
 
 Mr. Gough staid longer ; but at last he, too, 
 became a come-outer. Quoting the epigram of 
 Wendell Phillips, he said : "The men who made the 
 Republican party are in the grave ; the men whom 
 the Republican party made are in Congress." And, 
 being in Congress, they refused to do anything for 
 temperance. The prestige of government was per- 
 petually with the foes of government, and the affairs 
 of society were administered by the outcasts of 
 society. Liquor was in office, and temperance was 
 out, and was, therefore, naturally put out. 
 
 In early days, the liquor traffic was not organ- 
 ized. The manufacturers and venders were numer- 
 ous, but they were not affiliated. Ardent spirits 
 were bought and sold side by side with legiti- 
 mate foods and drinks over the counter of the grocery 
 or in the tavern. In the lapse of time all this has 
 changed. The liquor traffic has consolidated itself 
 into a vast, centralized oligarchy, as compact and 
 insolent as the slave-power used to be. With an 
 enormous capital, directly invested in the business ; 
 with an even greater wealth, indirectly but conse- 
 quentially concerned ; with tens of thousands of 
 saloons, each absolutely controlling from eight to ten 
 voters ; with appetite and social custom as active 
 allies; it dictates to political parties, writes the death- 
 warrants of politicians, or secures their promotion, 
 according as they serve or oppose its cause, buys up 
 or browbeats legislatures, terrorizes the community 
 by assaulting or assassinating unpurchasable or
 
 268 JOHN B. GOUCH. 
 
 undaunted opponents, and flares a legalized right to 
 be in the faces of the husbands and fathers and sons 
 it ruins, the wives and mothers and daughters it 
 bows in want and mortification and sorrow to the 
 earth, the children it pawns to ignorance and 
 poverty and vice, and the public it seeks to damn. 
 
 " When bad men combine," remarks Edmund Burke, 
 " the good must associate, else they will fall one 
 by one, an unpitied sacrifice in a contemptible 
 struggle." In obedience to this precept of the great 
 master of political philosophy, the friends of temper- 
 ance had met in Chicago in 1869 (September ist), 
 and formed a Prohibition party, whose avowed ob- 
 ject was the legal destruction of the liquor traffic. 
 Like most third parties, it made slow progress. In 
 the Presidential election of '72 it threw 5,607 votes 
 in six States ; in '76, 9,737, in eighteen States ; 
 in '80, 9,678, in sixteen States ; in '84 (the period 
 of which we write), 150,626, in thirty-four States an 
 encouraging gain. 1 
 
 Governor St. John, of Kansas, was the candidate 
 of the Prohibition party in '84. He was a man who 
 had Mr. Gough's entire confidence, and the veteran 
 was more than glad to vote for him. In explanation 
 of his course, he wrote: 
 
 " For forty-two years I have been fighting the liquor trade 
 the trade which robbed me of seven of the best years of my 
 life. I have long voted the Republican ticket, hoping always 
 for help in my contest from the Republican party. But we 
 have been expecting something from that party in vain ; and 
 
 1 In 1888 the Prohibition vote was 249,945. In 1892 it was 
 270,710.
 
 OLD ACTIVITIES IN NEW RELATIONSHIPS. 269 
 
 now, when they have treated the most respectful appeal, from 
 the most respectable men in the country, with silent contempt, 
 I say it is time for us to leave off trusting, and to express our 
 opinion of that party." l 
 
 In the same year, only a few days before the elec- 
 tion, he wrote a letter to The Voice, in New York, the 
 Prohibition organ, in which he said: 
 
 " I have one vote to be responsible for that has always been 
 given to the Republican party from the beginning of its exist- 
 ence to this present year. ... I hoped to find in the Re- 
 publican party, as a party of high moral ideas, protection 
 against the liquor traffic, instead of protection for it, and have 
 been unwilling to aid in making this grand cause a football to 
 be kicked between political parties. . . . This year, how- 
 ever, has seen strange things. Surprising disintegrations have 
 been going on in the two old parties. Both have either open 
 affiliations with, or a cowardly and shameful servility to, the 
 arrogant set of rings and lobbies of this drink trade, which 
 lifts its monstrous front of $750,000,000 of money spent directly 
 in it, with an equal sum in addition taxed upon the people to 
 take care of its miserable results." * 
 
 Such was the choice and action of John B. Gough, 
 in 1884. At the same time, in a passage illustrative 
 of his catholicity of spirit and feeling as a reformer, 
 he wrote: 
 
 "While I stand unflinchingly on the platform of total ab- 
 stinence and absolute prohibition, combining their forces for 
 the entire abondonment of the drinking customs and the an- 
 nihilation of the manufacture and sale of alcoholic beverages, 
 I hold out my hand to every worker as far as he can go with 
 me, if it is but a step." 
 
 1 " Cyclopaedia of Temperance," Art. " Gough," p. 194. 
 
 * The Voice, October, 1884. 3 " Sunlight and Shadow," p. 482.
 
 270 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 Through these years, in the midst of these readjust- 
 ments, the lecturer who " hailed " from " Hillside," 
 but was seldom there, 
 
 " The round of his simple duties walked, 
 And strove to live what he always talked." 
 
 Wherever he went, there was a generous rivalry 
 among the most charming homes, for the honor of 
 his entertainment. In an affecting page of the " Au- 
 tobiography " he refers to this fact: 
 
 "Among the results of my public life, most valuable and ap- 
 preciated, are the pleasant homes I have found in this country 
 and Great Britain ; the association with some of the best and 
 noblest ; and the familiar intercourse with so many of the wise 
 and good ; this, next to the fact that I may have been able, 
 by God's blessing, to accomplish something toward the 
 amelioration of the condition of the poor and degraded, and 
 the upbuilding of the cause of the Master has been to me a 
 source of the highest gratification. I could fill page after page 
 with the record of kindness received in the homes where I have 
 found a welcome. The recollection of them crowds upon 
 me." ' 
 
 None of his friends were closer than two whose 
 eminence almost equaled his own, -- the Rev. 
 Dr. Wm. M. Taylor, of New York, and the Rev. Dr. 
 Theodore L. Cuyler, of Brooklyn. It was during his 
 second British tour that he made Dr. Taylor's ac- 
 quaintance, at Liverpool, where he was then settled. 
 When Dr. Taylor came to fill the pastorate of the 
 Broadway Tabernacle, New York, in 1872, this ac- 
 quaintance matured into intimacy. Whenever he 
 could do so, Mr. Gough so timed his visits to New 
 
 1 " Autobiography," p. 549.
 
 OLD ACTIVITIES IN NEW RELATIONSHIPS. 271 
 
 York as to spend the Sunday there, and listen to this 
 prince of preachers. " No man ever opened up the 
 Scriptures to me as he did," says the visitor; "when- 
 ever I go to the Tabernacle I am helped and com- 
 forted." ' 
 
 Mr. Gough met Dr. Cuyler when the latter was in 
 the Theological Seminary at Princeton, away back in 
 1844, on the occasion of his first speech at that vener- 
 able seat of learning. On both sides, it was a case of 
 love at first sight a love never afterwards cooled or 
 clouded through evil or through good report. "I 
 visited him in his first manse, at Burlington, N. J.," 
 writes Mr. Gough; "then many times in Trenton, 
 afterwards in New York, when he was at the Market 
 Street Church, and since his settlement over the La- 
 fayette Street Church, Brooklyn." It was a source of 
 regret that the exigencies of his calling forbade the 
 lecturer from hearing this preacher often. But as a 
 correspondent he got into the heart of his friend. " I 
 have read many of Horace Walpole's letters," he says, 
 "all of Cowper's that are published, a large propor- 
 tion of Charles Lamb's, but, in my opinion, Dr. 
 Cuyler's letters, of which I have a large package, are 
 superior to them all. If selections from his corre- 
 spondence with different individuals for the last 
 thirty-five years were published, they would constitute 
 one of the most readable of books." a 
 
 Mr. Gough valued his opportunities on the platform 
 and his friendships off of it, chiefly as ways and means 
 for waging his moral warfare. As time passed and 
 
 1 "Sunlight and Shadow," p. 417. 
 
 2 " Sunlight and Shadow," p. 419.
 
 272 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 his youth receded, instead of hating liquor less he 
 hated it more. Thought, feeling, observation, in- 
 flamed his advocacy. 
 
 " While I can talk against the drink,'' he exclaimed, 
 " I'll talk; and when I can only whisper, I'll do that; 
 and when I can't whisper, I'll make motions. They 
 say I'm good at that! " 
 
 Like all earnest men, Mr. Gough found his patience 
 severely taxed by palterers. Honest opponents he 
 could reason with. Liquor- dealers he knew where to 
 find there was something admirable in their fixed- 
 ness. But on the road to the celestial city, " Mr. 
 Timid" and "Mr. Expediency," and " Mr. Facing- 
 bo li-ways," were characters at once common and 
 detestable. On this point he would have agreed with 
 a recent spicy writer's estimate: 
 
 " The saloon-keeper is ' a man of quality ' of one quality, 
 especially stay-putness. Wherever you left him, you will find 
 him, if you go back. 
 
 " Morally and religiously he varies like other people. Politi- 
 cally he is absolutely genuine, admirable. In Iowa or Illinois 
 he is the same, the soul of political faithfulness to his dominant 
 issue. In a winning race he wears his honors lightly ; in a hope- 
 less minority he fairly shines. Tell him ' It is no use,' ' You 
 will throw your vote away,' ' Stick to educational methods,' and 
 such irrefragable reasoning to Christian men and he will 
 smile, and smile, and be a villain still.' He has an idea and 
 believes in it. He can neither be flattered, ' fixed,' frightened, 
 nor fooled. 
 
 " He not only stands for ' personal liberty ' ; he is ready to 
 fall with it. The American eagle, winged, beaked, taloned, 
 and roosting on a streak of lightning, is an ordinary barn-fowl 
 as an emblem of liberty compared to him, alert, aproned, with 
 the law's lightning in his license skewered to his wall, the
 
 OLD ACTIVITIES IN NEW RELATIONSHIPS. 273 
 
 national colors under his feet, and his head towering amidst 
 clouds of public sentiment colossally innocuous to him serene 
 as Jupiter he is ' there,' like the distilleries round about 
 Peoria ; and he wins, not only the election that could be borne 
 but he wins by the votes of men that abhor him. For in con- 
 trast that would be very funny if it were less mysterious and 
 humiliating is the average man of what is called the 'better 
 class ' politically. With him principles are things of topography ; 
 convictions are held with a certain sense of proportion, and 
 relative to the world, the flesh, and the party. He is Prohibi- 
 tionist in Kansas, prohibitionish in Massachusetts, prohibition- 
 oid in South Carolina, a ' sentiment-maker ' in Auburnclale, a 
 sentimental fakir in Boston. Yet, if you should meet him in 
 Kansas, he would say that he was a Prohibitionist, not because 
 it was Kansas, but because he was he. He will tell you that 
 he wore out his chaise hauling Prohibition voters in Sioux City, 
 but is now filling the pulpit of St. Demijohn, in Omaha, and 
 suits ; that he stumped Iowa for the amendment, and has not 
 changed his mind, but would not read a notice of a 
 W. C. T. U. meeting in his present charge. Call on him in 
 Omaha, and he will tell you that he is in favor of the best law 
 that the average local sentiment will approve ; by which proc- 
 ess of reasoning he would be, if he lived in Sheol, a contented 
 devil. He believes in 'final perseverance ' of the liquor traffic, 
 and in justification by bargain and sale at the best obtainable 
 figure." ' 
 
 1 John G. Woolley, " The Golden Rule," August loth, 1893, p. 
 921. 
 
 18
 
 II. 
 
 THE PHILOSOPHY OF TEMPERANCE. 
 
 As a veteran of temperance, whose life synchro- 
 nized with its organization into a social and political 
 movement, Mr. Gough's philosophy of the cause 
 deserves careful study. He was not a scholar, in 
 the academic sense, but he was a close and accurate 
 observer. And he knew his own limitations. If he 
 was unable to discuss certain phases of the subject at 
 first hand, he knew just where to go for the required 
 information, so that he could speak with authority 
 at second hand. Thus, either through personal expe- 
 rience, or because of access to supreme authorities, he 
 was master of the encyclopaedia of the reform he 
 advocated. 
 
 Mr. Gough contended that alcohol is an alien prin- 
 ciple, not included in the scheme of life. One fourth 
 of life, and that the most exposed portion, viz., 
 infancy and childhood, is spent without any use of it 
 as the remaining stages are by most Orientals, and 
 by ever-enlarging numbers of abstainers in Europe 
 and America, to their immense physical and moral 
 gain. 
 
 He quotes the celebrated B. W. Richardson, M.D., 
 on the physiology of alcohol, to show that it is not a 
 natural food: 
 
 " If you ask science for a comparison of alcohol and of man,
 
 THE PHILOSOPHY OF TEMPERANCE. 275 
 
 in respect to the structure of both, her evidence is as the sun at 
 noon in its clearness. She has taken the body of man to pieces; 
 she has learned the composition of its structure skin, muscle, 
 bone, viscera, brain, nervous cord, organs of sense. She 
 knows of what these parts are formed, and she knows whence 
 the components came. She finds in the muscles fibrine ; it 
 came from the fibrine of flesh, or from the gluten or albumen 
 of the plants on which the man has fed. She rinds tendon and 
 cartilage and earthy matter of the skeleton ; they were from the 
 vegetable kingdom, she finds water in the body in such 
 abundance that it makes up seven parts out of eight of the 
 whole ; and that she knows the source of readily enough. She 
 finds iron ; that she traces from the earth. She finds fat ; and 
 that she traces to sugar and starch. In short, she discovers, 
 in whatever structure she searches, the origin of the structure. 
 But, as a natural presence, she finds no ardent spirit there in 
 any part or fluid. Nothing made from spirit. Did she find 
 either, she would say the body is diseased, and, it may be, was 
 killed by that which is found. 
 
 " Sometimes in the bodies of men she discovers the evidences 
 of some conditions that are not natural. She compares these 
 bodies with the bodies of other men, or with the bodies of in- 
 ferior animals, as sheep and oxen, and finds that the unnatural 
 appearances are peculiar to persons who have taken alcohol, 
 and are indications of new structural changes which are not 
 proper, and which she calls disease. Thus, by two tests, science 
 tries the comparison between alcohol and man. She finds in 
 the body no structure made from alcohol ; she finds in the 
 healthy body no alcohol ; she finds in those who have taken 
 alcohol changes of the structure, and those are changes of 
 disease. By all these proofs she declares alcohol to be entirely 
 alien to the structure of man. It does not build up the body; 
 it undermines and destroys the building. 
 
 " One step more. If you question science on the comparison 
 which exists between foods and alcohol, she gives you facts on 
 every hand. She shows you a natural and all-sufficient and 
 standard food. She calls it milk. She takes it to pieces ; she
 
 276 JOHN B. COUGH. 
 
 says it is made up of casein, for the construction of muscular 
 and other active tissues ; of sugar and fat, for supplying fuel to 
 the body for the animal warmth ; of salts for the earthy, and 
 of water for the liquid parts. This is a perfect standard. 
 Holds it any comparison with alcohol ? Not a jot. The com- 
 parison is the same with all other natural foods." 
 
 Wilson's " Pathology of Drunkenness," is referred 
 to as " a most vivid and fearful revelation of the 
 progress from conviviality to casual and habitual 
 intoxication, and the constitutional and mental results. 
 Wilson traces the disturbance of the circulation, the 
 disorder of the functions of digestion, the disease of 
 the liver, of the kidneys, of the lungs, the tubercular 
 degeneration, the brain disease, the apoplexy, which 
 are some of the constitutional results ; while loss or 
 confusion of memory, mental aberration, delirium, 
 lunacy, and suicide are some of the mental results. 
 The springs of life are tainted at their source, 
 and their currents diffusing themselves everywhere 
 throughout the system, the one as the basis of 
 vitality, the other as the origin of its leading 
 phenomena, have the traces of their altered qualities 
 everywhere apparent." ' 
 
 With reference to the alcoholic stages, he further 
 quotes Dr. Richardson : 
 
 " A man or woman sitting down or standing up 
 to drink wine, or other stimulant, always starts on 
 the way that leads through four stages towards an 
 easily realizable destination : Stage one, is that gentle 
 stimulation called moderate excitement, or ' support.' 
 Stage two is elevation whatever that may mean. It 
 
 " Sunlight and Shadow," p. 447.
 
 THE PHILOSOPHY OF TEMPERANCE. 277 
 
 is not elevation of character, of that I am satisfied. 
 Stage three is confusion of mind, action, and deed, 
 with sad want of elevation. Stage four is complete 
 concatenation of circumstances all the stages per- 
 fectly matured, the journey completed, the traveler 
 lying down, absolutely prostrated in mind and in 
 body. The destination is reached, and is found to be 
 a human being dead drunk." 
 
 In this connection, he relates an Arabian fable of 
 the vine : 
 
 "The devil matured the vine with the blood of four animals: 
 First, with that of the peacock ; and when the vine began to 
 put forth leaves, with the blood of the ape ; when the grapes 
 began to appear, with the blood of a lion ; and, lastly, when 
 they were quite ripe, with the blood of a hog : which is the 
 reason, the Arab says, that the wine-bibber at first struts 
 about like a peacock, then begins to dance or sing, and make 
 grimaces like an ape, then rages like a lion, and finally lies down 
 in a ditch, like a hog." l 
 
 It is while in the third stage of drunkenness, the 
 stage in which Dr. Richardson in the above extract 
 asserts that the victim is " confused in mind, action, 
 and deed," or the "lion state," according to the Ara- 
 bian fable, that the drunkard is usually moved to be- 
 come a criminal. "I have read somewhere," says Mr. 
 Gough," an old legend, in which a man was offered his 
 choice of three voluntary acts: to murder his father, 
 burn down his house, or get drunk. Laughingly, he 
 chose the latter as the least objectionable of the three. 
 He got drunk. While in that state he became furious. 
 Enraged at his father's attempt to control him, he 
 
 " Sunlight and Shadow," p. 474.
 
 278 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 struck him a blow with a hammer which lay near, and 
 killed him; then, filled with horror at the deed, he set 
 fire to the house, hoping to destroy the body and 
 hide his crime." ' 
 
 The apostle of temperance maintained that know- 
 ingly and willing to drink what will thus paralyze 
 the reason and inflame the passions, is sinful: 
 
 " I believe that when a man knows that the use of intoxica- 
 ting liquors is detrimental to his health, injurious to him in 
 body and mind, hinders his useful labor, and will solely for his 
 sensuous gratification use it, then he commits sin. . . . 
 
 "Drunkenness is a sin unlike others, in that it carries its pen- 
 alty with it in the suffering and enslavement of its victim. It 
 is but the penalty for violated law ; the sin is not in the penalty, 
 but in the violation of law. Now, is there no wrong in drink- 
 ing, unless it produces what we call drunkenness or intoxica- 
 tion ? If you mean by drunkenness a persistent use of alcoholic 
 beverages, knowing all the consequences, then it is always and 
 ever sin against the body, the mind, the soul, and society, and 
 a grievous sin against God. But is there no sin in the intoxi- 
 cation that consists in mere exhilaration, elevation, or excite- 
 ment ; or even the slight confusion of thought, without stagger- 
 ing or stammering ? If the brain is disturbed in its action and 
 the power of the will weakened, or if the self-control is affected, 
 the perception stimulated while its accuracy is destroyed : if the 
 judgment is perverted, if the drinker will go where he would 
 not go without it, say what he would not say without it, think 
 as he would not think, and do as he would not do without it; 
 though his utterance may not be thick, his eye may be clear, 
 his gait steady, and no outward appearance giving evidence 
 is he not in some degree tipsy, inebriated, drunk ? 
 
 " Can a man steal a little, lie a little, swear a little, and be 
 innocent ? Are there any degrees by which you may measure 
 
 1 " Sunlight and Shadow," pp. 448,449.
 
 THE PHILOSOPHY OF TEMPERANCE. 279 
 
 the enormity or the veniality of these practices ? I would fasten 
 the sin on the cause, not on the effect, be it greater or less." 1 
 
 In answering the assertion that wine has been the 
 concomitant and promoter of civilization, the lecturer 
 Quotes an eminent writer as saying: 
 
 " It is said that the use of wine and its allies has been the 
 source of the power of the most powerful nations. It is said 
 tlat the wine-cup has been the fountain of that wit and poetry 
 aid artistic wisdom, if I may use the term, which has made 
 the illustrious men of the world so illustrious and so generally 
 useful as they have been to the world. Take away the wine- 
 cip, it is argued, and the whole intellectual life must needs 
 become ' flat, stale, and unprofitable.' It were indeed a pity if 
 ths were the lookout of total abstinence, a second deluge of 
 witer, with not so much as a graceful dove and an olive- 
 bnnch to cheer the trackless waste. It were indeed a pity 
 of pities if this were the final lookout of total abstinence in the 
 intellectual sphere. Can it be that all intellectual energy and 
 hihrity must die out with the abolition of the wine-cup ? . . . 
 
 ' Science, ever fair, says that some nations and wonderful 
 peoples that have lived have been wine-drinkers at certain 
 peiiods of their history. But she draws also this most import- 
 am historical lesson, that the great nations were, as a rule, 
 waer-drinkers purely, until they became great; then they took 
 to vine and other luxuries, and soon became little. Up to the 
 time of Cyrus, the Persians were water-drinkers; they became 
 alloowerful, and then also became such confirmed wine-drink- 
 ersthat, if they had some great duty to perform, they discussed 
 the details of it when inflamed with wine, and rejected the 
 judgnent or revised it when they had become sober, and vice 
 versi. Surely this was the acme of perfection as a test of wine. 
 Curously, it didn't answer. With its luxury Persia succumbed, 
 fell into hands of less luxurious conquerors, and, like a modern 
 raki, found its progress ' anything but progressive in the end. 
 
 1 * Sunlight and Shadow," pp. 449-450.
 
 280 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 " The Greeks in their first and simple days were clothed in 
 victory over men and over nature. They grew powerful ; they 
 sang and danced, and all but worshiped wine; but it did not 
 sustain them in their grandeur, as it ought to have done if the 
 theory of such sustainment be correct. The Roman rule 
 became overwhelming out of the simplicity of its first life. It 
 rose into luxury, and made wine almost a god. But Rome fell 
 Wine did not sustain it. It is all through history the same. 
 There is not an instance, when we come to the analysis of fac: 
 and circumstance, in which wine has not been to nations, as t 
 man individually, a mocker. It has been the death of nations. 
 H has swept down nations, as it sweeps down men, in the prim; 
 
 o 
 
 their life, and in the midst of their glory." 
 
 So much for the evil of intemperance, and the na- 
 ture of it, as it lay in the perception and philosophy 
 ( f Mr. Gough. 
 
 Let us turn, now, to his scheme of reform. 
 
 He pleaded first and last and all the time for totil 
 bstinence, as " a certain, effectual cure. It nevr 
 lails, it cannot fail. It stops the supplies, and tie 
 < vil must cease; it dries up the spring, and there cn 
 
 ;e no stream. Prevention is better than cure. It is 
 forth a life-effort to save a drunkard, to lift a mm 
 rom degradation, but to prevent his fall is far better." ' 
 As it concerns a reformed man, total abstinence ic 
 esteemed the only possible course. His own experi- 
 ence, and the experience of tens of thousands of 
 others, spoke on this point in trumpet tones. The 
 appetite for liquor is created by indulgence. Thi; is 
 a physiological effect which remains after refoim. 
 When the desire is gone, appetite lies couchant Ike 
 the pet tiger that licks its master's hand till blood is 
 
 1 " Sunlight and Shadow," Chap, xxxii, passim.
 
 THE PHILOSOPHY OF TEMPERANCE. 281 
 
 tasted then hold him who can! One glass will rouse 
 this appetite, and unmake the new-made. The only 
 safety for the reformed drunkard is total abstinence. 
 In pleading with the moderate drinker, Mr. Gough 
 says: 
 
 " I appeal to him on a higher ground than mere self-preserva- 
 tion. I ask him to abstain for the sake of others. ... In 
 view ot the terrible nature of this evil, and of the fact that the 
 drunkards are all drawn from the ranks of moderation; that, 
 when death makes gaps in their ranks, they are filled by recruits 
 from the army of moderate drinkers, we must speak out, and 
 implore the moderate drinker to give up his gratification for the 
 sake of others. I do not accuse such an one of willfully doing 
 harm. I ask him to investigate, and to test his position." J 
 
 Mr. Gough sought to reinforce total abstinence by 
 basing it upon religious principle. He knew men 
 could abstain who had never drank, that men could 
 abstain who had been moderate drinkers, and that 
 men could abstain who had been drunkards, by an 
 act of the will. But he was convinced that such ab- 
 stainers, whichever of these classes they belonged to, 
 were in chronic peril. He believed the grace of God 
 to be more reliable than the grace of the will. Per- 
 sonally, when he first signed the pledge, he kept it by 
 the grace of the will, five months, then broke it. 
 When he re-signed it, under the grace of God, he never 
 broke it. Temperance he regarded as a Christian 
 virtue one of many; and he put it, where Peter did, 
 between manliness and knowledge; and where Paul 
 did, between righteousness and judgment to come. 
 The development of an harmonious Christian charac- 
 
 1 " Sunlight and Shadows," pp. 476-477.
 
 282 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 ter would embrace and fortify temperance. Hence 
 his desire to bring the pledge under the grace of God. 
 " I tell men," he says, " to abstain by the power of 
 their will; but every day they abstain in their own 
 strength, in the midst of temptation, they do it at a 
 risk. When they put forth all their energies, and 
 then trust in God's grace, they are safe." l 
 
 He did not believe that the grace of God takes away 
 the appetite for liquor in the case of a reformed man. 
 On this point he remarks : 
 
 " Does any one believe that the inflamed state of the stomach, 
 as shown in Sewall's plates, the congestion, the complete 
 disorder of the whole nervous system and all the irritation 
 that causes the desire, can be removed with no inconvenience 
 and no effort ; and that the whole constitution can be as free 
 as when the first glass was taken ? I do not believe it, except 
 by a miracle. . . . Remember when Paul prayed that the 
 thorn in his flesh might be removed, the answer was, ' My 
 grace shall be sufficient for thee ' though the thorn was not 
 removed ; and remember, also, that God will not permit any 
 who trust in Him to be confounded or put to shame." 2 
 
 Mr. Gough strongly condemned the use of alcoholic 
 wine at the communion table, as unsafe for those who 
 had come into the Church through the door of reform, 
 and urged the adoption of the unfermented juice of 
 the grape now largely, we wish we could say gener- 
 ally, used at the Lord's Supper : 
 
 " When I first began a Christian life I partook of the 
 the Communion when intoxicating wine was used. I once told 
 the minister that the church smelt like a grog-shop after the 
 
 1 " Sunlight and Shadow," pp. 459, 460. 
 * " Sunlight and Shadow," pp. 464, 465.
 
 THE PHILOSOPHY OF TEMPERANCE. 283 
 
 ordinance, and that the odor of alcohol was on every com- 
 municant's breath. . . . What was its effect on me ? The 
 small draught warmed my stomach. It brought back vividly 
 the old sensations, though it did not mount to my head and 
 affect my brain; yet it was a reminder of the old, bad times, 
 and called up associations connected with the use of this very 
 article in another way than as a religious ordinance. . . 
 I was startled by the pleasant sensations produced by the 
 alcohol even in that small quantity. I could not help that if I 
 took it, and I determined to use it no more." ' 
 
 Touching the warrant for drinking which some men 
 pretend to discover in the Bible, and the long con- 
 troversy over tirosh, yayin, oinos, gleukos, and other 
 terms, he says : 
 
 " There has been much discussion many volumes written, 
 some strong feelings expressed, and, I think, bitterness engen- 
 dered over the wines of Scripture. I pay very little attention 
 to this agitation, as the subject is of no particular moment to 
 me. I am not learned, and know nothing of Hebrew or Greek ; 
 and if learned men say that the Bible sanctions the use of alco- 
 holic wine, that the Saviour made and drank intoxicating wine, 
 I can only reply that I do not believe it. But there is no 
 necessity for argument with me, as I do not understand the 
 question, and it is perfectly immaterial to me what wine the 
 Saviour made and drank, as it is what clothes He wore, or 
 what food He ate ; for I am no more bound to drink what He 
 drank than I am to eat what He ate, or to wear the kind of 
 clothing in which He was appareled." 2 
 
 Furthermore, he adds : 
 
 " I do not go to the Bible for a command, ' Thou shalt ab- 
 stain from intoxicating liquors.' I do not seek for a command 
 
 1 " Sunlight and Shadow," pp. 462-463. 
 8 " Sunlight and Shadow," p. 484.
 
 284 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 in the Bible to abstain from gambling, horse-racing, prize- 
 fighting, dog-fighting, cock-fighting, and all that sort of thing. 
 As a Christian man I abstain from these things, believing them 
 to be detrimental to the best interest of society ; and because 
 I am a Christian it is not only lawful for me to do so, but a 
 bounden duty. . . . With my views of Christianity and its 
 claims upon me, by my allegiance to God, by my faith in 
 Christ, by the vows I took upon myself in His presence and be- 
 fore His people, I am bound to give up a lawful indulgence, if, 
 by so doing, my example will save a weaker brother from fall- 
 ing into sin. That is my position ; can you take that away 
 from me ? I will hold it, and take my stand upon it in the day 
 of judgment." ' 
 
 Out of his wide experience in meeting objections 
 of all kinds, he gives several instances of amusing 
 exegesis : 
 
 " I was told of a Cameronian in Scotland who declared he 
 had a command to drink spirits, ' for,' said he, ' are we not told 
 to try the spirits ? ' And so he would sample every whiskey- 
 bottle that was presented to him, quoting Scripture at the 
 same time. I heard a man defend gambling from the passage, 
 ' The lot is cast into the lap, but the whole disposing thereof is 
 of the Lord.' It is told of another that he refused to believe 
 the Bible because it was opposed to personal cleanliness ; and 
 when asked for evidence, he quoted the passage, ' He that is 
 filthy, let him be filthy still.' " * 
 
 Mr. Gough brought prohibitory law to the aid of 
 total abstinence and religious conviction. This was 
 the third essential principle in his conception of the 
 trinity of temperance. It was the objective point of 
 his agitation. 
 
 1 " Platform Echoes," pp. 257-258. 
 8 " Sunlight and Shadow," p. 488.
 
 THE PHILOSOPHY OF TEMPERANCE. 285 
 
 The right to prohibit seemed to him as clear as 
 sunshine. The public safety is the highest law. 
 Whatever menaces that, may and should be prohibited. 
 All Governments act upon this principle. France and 
 Germany prohibited the importation of American 
 pork why ? To protect the stomachs of their people 
 against trichinae The United States suspended im- 
 migration in 1892. On what ground? Because there 
 was cholera in Europe and Asia, and immigration 
 threatened infection. 
 
 By the right of eminent domain, the sovereign 
 power seizes private property, appraises it, and ap- 
 propriates it to public use. 
 
 By parity of reasoning prohibition is avouched. If 
 the State adjudges the manufacture and sale of 
 liquors as a beverage to be inimical to the welfare of 
 the community, its right to prohibit is self-evident 
 like the truths Jefferson catalogues in the commence- 
 ment of the Declaration of Independence. 
 
 But in a free community, while the abstract right 
 is beyond successful question, the power to exercise 
 it is dependent upon public opinion. Any law, how- 
 ever wholesome, which has not a friendly public 
 opinion to operate it is worse than no law is a dead 
 letter, and tends to bring all other laws into contempt. 
 In the present state of the popular conscience, a pro- 
 hibitory law could not be enforced in America. 
 "Grand juries would not indict ; district attorneys 
 would not prosecute ; petit juries would not convict ; 
 judges would not sentence ; and governors would 
 pardon." 
 
 Mr. Gough, with characteristic good sense, rejoiced 
 that there was not now a prohibitory clause in the
 
 286 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 Constitution of the United States. At the same time, 
 he worked early and late to secure such an amend- 
 ment ! Why ? Because he knew that the agita- 
 tion necessary in order to carry the measure would 
 be a " campaign of education." It would be impossi- 
 ble to win a constitutional prohibitory amendment, 
 without first enlightening public opinion and vitaliz- 
 ing the conscience of the community. With this 
 done, a national law prohibiting the liquor traffic 
 would be as easily enforced as is the national law 
 against slavery or against polygamy. " I believe," 
 said Mr. Gough," that a prohibitory law based on the 
 public sentiment of antagonism to drink, will be suc- 
 cessfully enforced ; and just in proportion as it is 
 upheld by a spasmodic effort, without sufficient senti- 
 ment to back it, it will be a failure, and in my opinion 
 worse than nothing." ' 
 
 Thus believing, he devoted himself to the manufac- 
 ture of public opinion, and made himself a doctor of 
 the public conscience. " I cry out for assistance 
 from every quarter," he said. "Small help is better 
 than no help, and I will not refuse any aid given 
 from any source to pull down the stronghold of in- 
 temperance." " 
 
 Toward those agents and agencies that were 
 directly cooperative with him in his purpose, the tem- 
 perance apostle turned with loving heart and smiling 
 face. "The National Temperance Society and Pub- 
 lication House," in New York, " The Voice," " The 
 Good Templars," " The Sons of Temperance," " The 
 
 1 " Sunlight and Shadow," p. 481. 
 * "Sunlight and Shadow," p. 482.
 
 THE PHILOSOPHY OF TEMPERANCE. 287 
 
 Templars of Honor," and all similar associations, he 
 encouraged in their efforts to circulate the literature 
 of cold water, to educate the public mind, and to 
 secure legislative enactments against the drink. 
 
 Above all, he welcomed and valued and cheered 
 the presence and counsel and labor of women in the 
 good cause. Referring to the formation of the 
 " Woman's Christian Temperance Union," in 1874, as 
 the outgrowth of the women's crusade against liquor 
 in certain Western States " a most wonderful move- 
 ment, which roused the whole people to a consider- 
 ation of the evils of drunkenness, creating an interest 
 such as this country has not seen since the days of 
 Washingtonianism " he did not hesitate to say that 
 he considered this " the most efficient organization 
 in the United States to-day." * 
 
 Mr. Gough thought well of "Refuges" and 
 " Homes," where a reformed man finds shelter and 
 sympathy during his first few days of conflict with 
 appetite " where appeals are made to his conscience, 
 representing his drunkenness not as a mere peccadillo, 
 but as a sin against his body and soul, and as a sin 
 against God." a He also approved of the coffee- 
 palace movement in England, and of such coffee- 
 houses as the " Model " and the " Central " in Phila- 
 delphia. But for many so-called temperance hotels 
 and restaurants he had a profound contempt places, 
 he affirms, " where they charge as much for dirt and 
 discomfort as you are required to pay in any other 
 place for cleanliness and comfort." He adds : 
 
 " I once went into one of these, decoyed by the signboard. 
 
 1 "Sunlight and Shadow," p. 495. * "Sunlight and Shadow," p. 503.
 
 288 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 and sat down at a table where the cloth looked like a map of the 
 United States, stained with mustard, coffee, and grease, and with 
 crumbs scattered all over it ; the place reminding you of Cole- 
 ridge's description of Cologne, in which he counted seventy- 
 five distinct smells. I called for a steak, and can hardly de- 
 scribe the sights that met my eyes while that steak was in 
 preparation. First the bread was put on the table not a very 
 attractive loaf; then some butter that had been cut with a dirty 
 knife. The steak, how can that be described! It reminded 
 you of the man who refused to partake of a similar steak on 
 the ground that it was an infringement of Goodyear's patent 
 for india-rubber. I asked for a cup of tea. It came, remind- 
 ing you again of the customer who said, ' If this is tea, I want 
 coffee; if it is coffee, I want tea.' In the sugar a wet spoon 
 had been so often dipped that it had caked into little drops of 
 discolored sweetness. The spoon itself was sticky ; and the 
 whole affair was so utterly destructive to all healthy appetite, 
 that I left as hungry as I entered." * 
 
 Mr. Gough, like all men with clear brains, healthy 
 livers, and knowledge of the facts, was an optimist. 
 While facing and fighting existing evils, he saw and 
 rejoiced in the law of progress, and sang, with 
 Tennyson : 
 
 " Yet I doubt not through the ages one increasing purpose 
 
 runs, 
 
 And the thoughts of men are widened with the process of 
 the suns." 
 
 He mentions the surprising improvements in loco- 
 motion (a topic on which he was aufait), in commu- 
 nication, in personal comfort, brought about by steam, 
 electricity, sewing-machines, chloroform, photogra- 
 phy, and a multitude of strange and curious inven- 
 
 1 " Sunlight and Shadow," p. 504.
 
 THE PHILOSOPHY OF TEMPERANCE. 289 
 
 tions, which have done more for human advancement 
 in the last few decades than had been done in all the 
 previous lifetime of our race ; and remarks : 
 
 " As I contemplate the past, how much there is to fill the 
 thought and stir the pulses in view of the wonderful progress 
 in all directions, and the great changes that have taken place 
 since my remembrance, and even since my first entry on public 
 life. 
 
 "In 1842, Louis Philippe was King of the French. In 1848 
 came the Republic, growing into the Empire. Again, in 1871, 
 after the Commune, came the Republic, routing the Empire. 
 Four great wars have agitated Europe : the Crimean, the 
 Italian, the Franco-German, and the war of Russia with 
 Turkey. In 1857 the great East Indian mutiny startled the 
 world. In 1847 occurred the war of the United States with 
 Mexico, and in 1861 commenced the war for the Union. 
 
 " What great reforms have been inaugurated in the past forty 
 years! In nearly all the civilized portions of the globe, from 
 Japan to Christianized Madagascar, from India to our own free 
 country, the battle is going on, and the fight becomes more 
 earnest. Glance rapidly over the world and see. The United 
 States has given freedom to her slaves; Russia has emanci- 
 pated her millions of serfs. Germany is fighting the double 
 battle in sight of the world, with a keen, relentless, moral des- 
 potism on the one hand, and on the other the struggle between 
 the license of materialism and the freedom that walks in stead- 
 fast obedience to Divine law. Italy, instead of being a nest 
 of petty States, united only in dense ignorance and abject 
 slavery, now walks among the nations, free to drain her 
 stagnant moral marshes ; free to say to all her people, ' Rise, 
 for thy light has come.' France has made leap after leap 
 for civil and political freedom and equal rights : and though 
 not yet landed on the safe side, still her dissatisfactions- 
 are noble, and inspire the world with sympathy toward her 
 struggles. England is bravely grappling with internal prob- 
 lems, and burden after burden is being lifted from the shoulders
 
 290 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 of her people. Turkey is being pierced with loopholes for 
 light. Egypt tolerates Christian schools. Spain has seen the 
 Inquisition crumble. China's Emperor is moving to prevent 
 opium from paralyzing his millions of subjects. Japan asks of 
 the United States teachers of schools after the method of to- 
 day, and takes the Christian Sabbath for her Sabbath ; all this 
 when her ports, with one exception, were barred against the 
 commerce of the world at the opening of this century. Hear 
 the proclamation of the Queen of Madagascar.where till recently 
 heathenism reigned supreme, with savage cruelties and perse- 
 cutions to the death of all who dared avow the Christian name : 
 '" J, Ranovalomajaka, by the grace of God, and the will of 
 my people, Queen of Madagascar, defender of the laws of my 
 kingdom, this is what I say to you, my subjects: God has given 
 me this land and kingdom ; and concerning the rum, you and I 
 have agreed it shall not be sold, because it does harm to your 
 persons, to your wives, and children ; makes foolish the wise, 
 makes more foolish the foolish, and causes people not to fear 
 the laws of the kingdom, and especially makes them guilty 
 before God.'" ' 
 
 Such was John B. Gough's philosophy of temper- 
 ance. Those who have been wont to regard him as 
 a mere minstrel of the cause, telling stories of re- 
 form, as the troubadours in the Middle Ages sang of 
 love and war from castle gate to castle gate, with no 
 grasp of information, nor any power of origination 
 have been wofully mistaken in their estimate of the 
 man. This survey of his views should suffice, in it- 
 self, to indicate and vindicate the depth of his pene- 
 tration, the reach of his knowledge, the kindliness of 
 his charity, and the weight of his brain. We ques- 
 'tion whether any other man of his generation was as 
 
 l " Sunlight and Shadow," pp. 512-513.
 
 THE PHILOSOPHY OF TEMPERANCE. 291 
 
 thoroughly master of the encyclopaedia of temperance 
 as John B. Gough. Certainly, none other could equal 
 him in the ability to handle -the subject before the 
 people. Here, by common consent, like Burns's 
 " Pink o' Womanhood," he 
 
 "... blooms without a peer."
 
 III. 
 
 BEGGARS, BORROWERS, AND BORES. 
 
 MR.GOUGH devotes three amusing chapters of "Sun- 
 light and Shadow " ' to the beggars, borrowers, and 
 bores with whom he had enjoyed (?) a long and expen- 
 sive acquaintance. All men in public life have similar 
 experiences. Those whose lives are more retired may 
 get from the recital a new reason to be grateful for 
 privacy. Hence, we extract from the lecturer's big 
 budget a few specimen cases. They serve to " point 
 a moral," if they fail to " adorn a tale " : 
 
 " When in England, twenty-five years ago, I boasted that 
 I knew nothing in America of the system of writing beg- 
 ging letters, so prominent there ; but I really think we can now 
 fairly challenge competition in that line with any country in 
 the world. I rather think it is an imported nuisance and 
 not indigenous to the soil of America. . . . Every mail 
 brings me such letters. One says : 
 
 " ' Having heard that you were a very benevolent man. and 
 knowing you were not a poor man, for I saw it stated in the 
 paper the other day the amounl of your income, I make bold to 
 ask you a favor. My folks are respectable though not very 
 well off, and I wish to go to a music-school for three years. 
 My father has a rich uncle, whom I wrote to help me, but he 
 
 1 XXI., XXII., XXIII. , pp. 304-40. Vide his "Autobiography," 
 PP- 53 I- 534> for further instances.
 
 BEGGARS, BORROWERS, AND BORES. 293 
 
 thought himself too poor. The cost will be $500 a year. I wish 
 you would send me a check for $500 for three years, or a check 
 at once for $1,500. Pardon my boldness, but I do so much 
 wish to go, etc., etc. 
 
 " ' P. S. A check payable to bearer.' 
 
 "Another : 
 
 " ' You talk of serving the Lord. You will serve Him by 
 helping me. I want $1,000 to get a home.' 
 
 "Another : 
 
 "'I asked the Lord where I should get $100, and He whis- 
 pered your name. Now if you go to the Lord, perhaps He'll 
 tell you to send it to me.' 
 
 "Another : 
 
 '"If you only knew how happy $100 would make me, you 
 would send it, for you are abundantly able.' 
 
 " Again : 
 
 '" I want $1,000 to educate two nieces, and I write to you.' 
 
 " The most annoying class among the so-called respectable 
 beggars are those who apply to you personally, and by appeals 
 to your sympathy obtain money they never mean to repay. 
 
 " A young American in England begged me to lend him^io 
 for a passage home. He could be sent home by steerage, but 
 he could not endure a steerage passage ; spoke of his relatives, 
 and said, ' I can give you an order on my mother.' The money 
 was lent and two pounds additional for some comforts for the 
 voyage. The order on his mother was given. I have it now. 
 When the gentleman reached this country he had the coolness 
 to write me not to present the order to his mother, as it would 
 be of no use, for she had no money and that is the last of that 
 transaction. . . . These people, many of them, never 
 intend to repay. I write as a sufferer; for from 1845, when 
 they began on me, till now, the game has been going on a 
 losing one to me, for I have notes and promises to pay to an 
 amount that would hardly be believed of one in my circum- 
 stances. All I can say is, that the amount might be put down in
 
 294 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 five figures, with the figure five at the head of the sum. Over and 
 over again have I declared that I will lend no more money to 
 persons unknown to me, but they make such fair promises that 
 I think, ' This must be a real case ' ; and like Mr. Hartop, ' I 
 am taken in.' " 
 
 He goes on: 
 
 " A very curious plan adopted by some of these professionals 
 is to take advantage of the credulity of their intended victims. 
 I give portions of a letter received, purporting to come from 
 my mother, who has been dead forty years. 
 
 Poor, dead woman ! she has forgotten how to spell, for she 
 writes that this letter is to be attended to ' immegertely ': 
 
 " ' John, I, your mother, can speak to you through a medium 
 in Bath, Maine.' (She seems to have learned something- of 
 geography ; for when she was a denizen of this earth, I doubt 
 if she knew there was such a place as the above.) ' You and 
 this medium are strangers ; but if you will come to her, my 
 dear boy, I can convince you that I still live to enjoy my son's 
 prosperity.' (No necessity to go to Maine to know that the 
 dear mother lives.) ' Do not think or believe your mother does 
 not help you and bear you up,' etc., etc. 'John, my son, fear 
 not ; God has given you great gifts, and He has given great 
 gifts to the one I am controlling to-day. I wish you would 
 help her to come out of her poor condition she is in. If you 
 knew what a gem she is, I know you would help her. Come 
 and see me. I, your mother, send this. Come and talk to 
 me through this medium. If you feel disposed to help her, do. 
 From your mother to John.' " 
 
 One of his mails brought the following request 
 from an aspirant: 
 
 " Being in need of a moddle lecture, I send to you for assist- 
 ance. My request is that you will please compose a moddle 
 lecture from the extracts of your old lectures and give it a sub- 
 ject a lecture that will take about an hour to repeat. I have 
 heard of no man that can tie a lecture together with choice 
 anecdotes such as you can, and indeed, sir, eloquence has dis- 
 tilled her choicest nectar upon your lips. I have spoken 
 several times on temperance," etc., etc.
 
 BEGGARS, BORPOWERS, AND BORES. 295 
 
 Always willing to accommodate, Mr. Gough gives 
 the following hints for a " Moddle" lecture, to aid 
 any who may be fired with ambition: 
 
 "Your subject might be 'Reminders.' You can introduce it 
 by stating briefly or at length, according to the time you have, 
 that for a conversation it is necessary to start a theme, and 
 then all is easy. Describe a company of people sitting dull 
 and silent, with nothing to say ; no subject to interest them. 
 How shall they engage in a stirring game of conversation ? 
 Let some one tell a story, no matter what it is, and it will be 
 sure to remind some one of the company of something else. 
 There you are ' that reminds me' of a man who had but one 
 story, and that was about a gun. He would impatiently watch, 
 when in company, for a chance to repeat his story. When all 
 was still, he would let fall a book, or stamp with his feet, then 
 start and say: ' Oh, dear, how it startled me ! It reminded me 
 of a gun. Talking of guns, ' reminds me,' and then came the 
 story. 
 
 " This story of a gun reminds me of a famous hunter who 
 had shot tigers in Africa. Conversing with a German about 
 sport, he said, ' I care nothing for sport unless there is an ele- 
 ment of danger in it.' The German replies, ' Ah ! you vant 
 clanger ? Veil, you go shoot mit me, dere vill be de danger. 
 Vy, I shoot my brother in his stomich, toder day !' Talking 
 of shooting reminds me of the man who had a heavy 
 charge in his gun, and taking aim at a squirrel, fired. Over 
 went he, and the squirrel ran twittering up the tree. 
 Oh ! ' said he, as he picked himself up, ' if you 
 had been at this end of the gun, you would not 
 have run so fast.' That reminds me of two negroes, 
 who were out shooting, and coming to a wolf's hole, 
 one said, ' Dar's a wolf's hole.' I reckon dar is,' said Jem. 
 ' I wonder wedder de ole un's in dat hole.' ' Dar ain't no wolf 
 in dat hole, it don't look like dar was a wolf dar. I reckon 
 dar's young uns.' ' Reckon dar may be young uns : s'pose
 
 296 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 you go in dar, Cuff, and see wedder dar is or not.' ' Go in 
 yourself, Jem. I'll stand at de hole and watch for de wolf. If 
 I see him coming, I'll let you know.' 'All right'; and Jem 
 crept into the hole. Soon the wolf came up with a swinging 
 trot, and made straight for the hole. Cuff was too late, and 
 could only seize the wolf's tail, and then it was, pull wolf and 
 pull Cuff, the wolf's body completely filling the hole. Jem said, 
 ' Cuff, what makes the hole so dark ? ' 'Is de hole dark ? ' 
 ' It's all darkened up, what makes it ? ' ' Well, I reckon, if dis 
 wolf's tail comes loose, you'll know what makes de hole so dark." 
 Talking of negroes reminds me of a colored man who, when 
 asked whether he knew the way to a certain place, said, ' I 
 wish I had as many dollars as I know where dat place 
 is.' This mistake of the negro reminds me of a Dutchman, 
 who wanted a man to go out of his store, and said, ' Go out of 
 my store. If you don't go out of my store, I'll get a policeman 
 vot vill." Talking of Dutchmen, reminds me of two who went 
 into Delmonico's and got lunch. The price was higher than 
 they expected, and one of them was very angry, and began to 
 swear. ' Vot's de matter ? ' ' Matter enough ; noine tollars 
 for lunch, I vill swear!' ' Ah, nefer mind,' said the other, 
 ' nefer mind. The Lord has punished clat Delmonico already, 
 very bad.' ' How has he punished him ? ' ' Vy, I've got my 
 pocket full of his spoons.' Talking of spoons, reminds me of a 
 politician, and so you get into politics, and finish your lecture 
 ad lib." 
 
 Mr. Gough had many adventures with bores : 
 
 " I was quietly reading one summer day under the tree, when 
 a servant announced that a gentleman wished to see me. 
 "'Who is he?' 
 '" I don't know.' 
 '" Did he give his name ? ' 
 " No, sir.' 
 " ' Where is he ? ' 
 " ' At the front door, in a buggy.'
 
 BEGGARS, BORROWERS, AND BORES. 297 
 
 " So, hoping that he would not keep me long, I went to the 
 front door ; there sat a young gentleman in an open buggy 
 
 " ' How do ye do, Gough ? ' 
 
 " ' How do you do, sir ? ' 
 
 " ' Don't know me ? ' 
 
 " ' No, sir.' 
 
 " ' Don't know me ? Look at me.' 
 
 " I looked at him. 
 
 " ' Now don't you know me ? ' 
 
 '"No, sir; I do not recollect you.' 
 
 " ' Why, you stopped at my father's house once, when I was 
 a boy. Know my father ? ' 
 
 " ' No.' 
 
 " ' Don't know my father ? Well, I do. Ha, ha ! that's a 
 joke. Well, how do you do ? I got a buggy in Worcester, 
 and drove out here on purpose to see you.' 
 
 " ' Will you walk in ? I will see that your horse is hitched.' 
 
 "He walked with me into the parlor. 
 
 " I have a framed picture near the door, entitled ' The 
 Return from the Deer-Stalking': a woman is rowing a boat 
 across the loch, while a gentleman in a hunting cap and dress 
 is in the stern. When he saw it, he said : 
 
 "' Ah, a picture!' holding his half-closed hand to his eyes 
 to get a good sight. ' That's a good picture. Queen Victoria 
 and Prince Albert, I suppose ? ' 
 
 " I said, ' Hardly ! Queen Victoria would not be likely to row 
 a boat across the loch.' 
 
 "' Ah, I dare say ; but you've been to England, and it struck 
 me that it was the Queen.' 
 
 " Turning to another picture called ' Langdale Pikes,' he said 
 going through the same motions with his hands ' Ah, a 
 very pretty farm scene.' 
 
 " I said, ' That is not a farm scene ; that is a view of Lang- 
 dale Pikes, in Cumberland.' 
 
 " ' Yes. Well, I see some cows there, and didn't know but 
 what it was an English farm scene. Been to England, 
 you know. By the way, I want to see your library.'
 
 298 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 " I took him into the room. As he looked around, he said : 
 
 " What a lot of books ! Here's where you cook up your 
 lectures, eh ? Read 'em all ? ' 
 
 " And so he went around the room talking nonsense, till he 
 came to the two volumes of the ' History of British Guiana.' 
 
 " ' Oh ! there, I knew you were a practical man ! I like 
 practical men. You're a farmer, and here's the book. I see 
 you're practical.' 
 
 " I said : ' What has that book to do with farming ? ' 
 
 '" Why, don't you see, the History of British Guano ? That's 
 practical learn its history before you use it ! ' 
 
 " ' And so for three mortal hours did that man drive one 
 wild." 
 
 But the bored in this case got even with the bore 
 or at least turned the rencontre to account: 
 
 " A circumstance occurred some years after, in connection 
 with this visit, and I give it as a sequel. It is so ridiculously 
 absurd that one can scarcely believe it to be possible, but I 
 record the simple fact. I give no names; and if the individual 
 should happen to read this, he would not probably recognize 
 the picture as any representation of himself. I was stopping in 
 the hotel of the town where I was to lecture that evening, when 
 this gentleman called, who said he had come to town to hear 
 my lecture. We chatted awhile, and he left me. While I was 
 speaking, I saw him in the audience. Soon I came to a point 
 where I needed an illustration of the stolidity or stupidity of a 
 regular bore, when the idea seized me ' Why not use this gen- 
 tleman's visit at my house ? Ah, it would be too barefaced.' 
 The temptation grew on me, and as I was speaking I argued 
 the point. ' I do not believe he will take, yet it will hardly do.' 
 Still I seemed to be seized with an almost irresistible desire to 
 use the circumstance of his visit. Perhaps it was impudent, but 
 I did it. As I looked on his face, and remembered him at my 
 house, the risk of his taking it grew less, and I told the whole 
 story through. He seemed to enjoy it, for he laughed when
 
 BEGGARS, BORROWERS, AND BORES. 299 
 
 others laughed. After the lecture was over, he called on me at 
 the hotel. Now, I thought, I shall catch it ; but to my utter 
 surprise, he said : 
 
 " ' Well, Gough, I enjoyed your lecture first-rate ; but the best 
 part of the whole was about that man who called on you ; for 
 don't you remember I called at your house once, and I remem- 
 ber your library and pictures. It was first-rate." 
 
 " ' It is almost past belief that any man should be so obtuse, 
 but so it was.' " 
 
 One afternoon, in Roxbury, Mass., the lecturer was 
 resting preparatory to an address which he was to 
 deliver that evening. Two ladies called, and asked 
 to see him. 
 
 His wife replied: " Mr. Gough is resting." 
 
 " We will keep him but a minute, we came from the 
 next town, and wish very much to see him." 
 
 "So I was called," he says, "and came into the 
 room half asleep in not very good humor. There 
 were two strange ladies seated on the sofa, who 
 looked at me and then complacently smiled at each 
 other. 
 
 " ' Ladies, did you wish to see me ?' 
 
 " ' Yes, we called for that purpose.' 
 
 "'What did you want?' 
 
 " ' Oh, we do not want anything. We live in 
 Hingham, and we've heard you lecture, and, we were 
 in Roxbury, and we found out where you lived, and 
 we don't want anything, but we thought we would 
 like to see how you looked in the daytime, for we've 
 never seen you except in the evening.' 
 
 "'Is that all?' 
 
 " ' Yes, that's all we wanted.' 
 
 " ' Good afternoon, ladies.'
 
 300 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 " And I went back to my room with my rest com- 
 pletely broken by the curiosity that desired to see 
 how I looked in the daytime." 
 
 As the disturbed sleeper returns to his sofa, we may 
 all of us cry as he did: 
 
 " O, wad some Pow'r the giftie gie us, 
 To see oursels as ithers see us ! 
 It wad frae monie a blunder free us, 
 And foolish notion."
 
 IV. 
 
 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES ON THE PLATFORM. 
 
 THE platform adventures of platform monarchs are 
 of perennial interest. Those who are themselves 
 public speakers study them for instructive hints and 
 suggestions and sometimes in search of the secret of 
 Dickens's " Circumlocution Office," " how not to do 
 it." To others they give a peep into a strange 
 world, as fascinating as a glance behind the scenes is 
 to the play-goer. 
 
 In some phases of his career, Mr. Gough has (uncon- 
 sciously and modestly) borrowed the pen of Boswell, 
 and described himself in the rfile of Dr. Johnson. 
 Nowhere is he more satisfactorily confiding than 
 upon this theme. 
 
 As to his methods of preparation, he tells us that 
 at the start he " only told a story." " I had no litera- 
 ture," he says, " no scientific knowledge, no beautiful 
 thoughts clothed in beautiful language. I had a 
 story to tell, and I told it. It was a story of priva- 
 tion, of suffering; a story of struggle and final vic- 
 tory; a story of hope and despair; a story of God's 
 mercy; a story of life every word of which I felt in 
 the deepest depths of my own soul. ... I knew 
 nothing of grammar or rhetoric. -Logic was a term 
 that I could not define. I had occasionally an idea,
 
 302 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 when I went before an audience, that I should relate 
 some story, or use some illustration; but when, 
 where, or how, I could not tell. . . . For seven- 
 teen years I was constantly on the lookout in travel- 
 ing, conversation, reading, strolling the streets, in 
 society for illustrations, incidents, facts that I could 
 use in temperance lectures; not exactly storing them 
 in my mind, but letting them float on the surface, 
 ready at the moment when required." l 
 
 As an instance of the readiness with which he 
 turned daily happenings to account, take this occur- 
 rence: 
 
 " At Rhinebeck, many years ago, I was entertained by Mr. 
 Freeborn Garretson, who then resided on a beautiful estate near 
 the Hudson River. 
 
 " We were walking through the grounds one morning, when 
 he said to me : ' I am sorry you do not see us in the summer- 
 time ; we now look very barren and desolate ; the trees are so 
 utterly without foliage, they might be dead trees for all the evi- 
 dence they give of life. It is winter time with us now ; but 
 come to us in the summer, and under the shade of these grand 
 trees you may enjoy a cool and exquisite refreshment.' 
 
 " I went in the evening to the lecture, and as I was passing 
 into the church, a gentleman said to me : ' I am glad you are 
 come to help us, for the temperance cause is dead in Rhine- 
 beck.' 
 
 " During my speech, I said, ' A gentleman said to me on the 
 threshold of this house this evening, 'the temperance cause is 
 dead in Rhinebeck.' No, it is not dead ; it was born in the 
 Church of Christ, and can never die." 
 
 " Then Mr Garretson's remarks in the morning flashed into 
 my mind, and I said : ' If I should say to you, as I passed 
 through the streets of your village, ' Cut down these dead trees/ 
 
 l " Sunlight and Shadow," p. 349.
 
 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES ON THE PLATFORM. 303 
 
 you would say, ' They are not dead.' If I tell you there is no 
 evidence of life, there is no bud, no blossom, no leaf, and ask 
 you to cut them down, and plant living trees, you might tell me: 
 ' It is winter-time with us now. There is neither bud, blossom, 
 nor leaf, but the sap is in these trees ; and by-and-by the warm 
 spring rain will water the roots, the sun will shine on the 
 branches, and they will bud, blossom, and leaf out, and as 
 
 " ' The tree-tops stir not, 
 
 But sland and peer on Heaven's bright face, as though 
 It slept, and they were loving it,' 
 
 'you may sland under their deep shade, and enjoy the cool 
 refreshment thereof.' So with our temperance-tree. There 
 may be but few, if any, signs of life. It may be winter-time 
 with us; but the sap is in the tree, and by-and-by the refreshing 
 rain of public sentiment will water the roots, and the warm sun 
 of woman's influence will shine upon the branches, and it will 
 bud, and blossom, and leaf out ; and the branches, hanging 
 heavy with foliage, shall touch the earth, and spring up again, 
 like the banyan-tree, and cover the land, and under its shade 
 every poor victim of this vice shall find a refuge.' 
 
 " ' Now, when I commenced my speech I had no idea I should 
 use Mr. Garretson's remarks, and the line of poetry I had read 
 a few days before in Festus" 1 
 
 Mr. Gough assures his readers that he never wrote 
 or studied his illustrations. These were all worked 
 out on the platform and before the audience " an 
 awful risk," as he confesses. As for the anecdotes 
 which he told in such numbers and with such effect, 
 he says: " When I find a good story, I appropriate it, 
 and use it. Some stories I make by putting a funny 
 thought into a narrative or dialogue, some I find in 
 the newspapers, some are related to me by others, and 
 
 1 " Sunlight and Shadow," pp. 350,351.
 
 304 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 some occur in my own experience. ... I think 
 the public will not charge me with introducing a 
 funny story except to illustrate a point, and, besides, 
 I find that a good story, well told, relieves an audience 
 wonderfully." ' 
 
 In his use of stories, and in his manufacture of them, 
 Mr. Gough resembles two other geniuses, one of the 
 past, the other of the present, viz., Daniel O'Connell 
 and Chauncey M. Depew, both of whom have made a 
 similar confession. 
 
 In his earlier years on the platform, Mr. Gough was 
 so incessantly occupied that he had little time for in- 
 tellectual culture. Whatever reading he did was 
 desultory and useless because of ill-direction or bad 
 choice. It may be said of him, as perhaps of no other 
 man, that he got a liberal education on the platform. 
 Feeling more and more, as draughts were made upon 
 his mind, the need of knowledge, he went in search 
 of it, taught himself to think, learned how to read, 
 mastered the subjects on which he spoke, and 
 graduated from one of the best universities in the 
 world the University of Adversity, with experience 
 for the faculty, men and women for fellow students, 
 life for a text-book, and character for his diploma. 
 
 After the second return from Great Britain, Mr. 
 Gough, as we have seen," pursued a different method 
 of preparation, and began to write his lectures. All 
 of those on miscellaneous topics were thus produced. 
 In the enjoyment of leisure, throned in an ample 
 library, with an intellect self-trained, and aided by 
 the habits of the platform, he prepared, as any scholar 
 
 1 " Sunlight and Shadow," pp. 354-355. 2 Ante, p. 212, sq.
 
 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES ON THE PLATFORM. 305 
 
 might and would, with painstaking diligence, and pen 
 in hand. 
 
 The later, like the earlier, efforts, however, lacked a 
 logical form. Mr. Gough was sensitive on the sub- 
 ject of logic. 
 
 " I am not logical, he says with gentle irony, I 
 cannot possibly be logical, when so many wiser men 
 than I am, declare that I am not. I never pretended 
 to logic; I hardly know what it means. I have an 
 idea that logic may be used to prove strange things. 
 When I was a boy I heard that a young student visit- 
 ing his home during his vacation, was asked by his 
 father to give him a specimen of logic. ' Well,' said 
 he, ' I can prove that this eel pie is a pigeon.' ' How 
 so ?' asked the father. 'Why an eel pie is a Jack 
 pie, a Jack pie is a John pie, and a John pie is a pie- 
 John (pigeon).' 'Good! ' exclaimed the father, ' now 
 for that I'll make you a present of a chestnut horse 
 to-morrow.' On the morrow, with a bridle on his 
 arm, the young logician accompanied his father to 
 the field, when they stopped under the shade of a 
 tree. 
 
 " ' There's your horse, bridle him.' 
 
 "' But I see no horse.' 
 
 "'Certainly, there is a horse a chestnut horse.' 
 And the old gentleman touched a horse chestnut with 
 his foot, adding : ' If a John pie is a pie-John, a horse 
 chestnut must be a chestnut horse ; its a poor rule 
 that will not work both ways.'" 1 
 
 There is a good deal of reason in Mr. Gough's sus- 
 picions of logic. 'Tis an open question whether it 
 
 1 "Autobiography," pp. 323,324. 
 2O
 
 306 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 does not conclude erroneously as often as it does 
 rightly. The two most consummate logicians in 
 American public life were Jonathan Edwards and 
 John C. Calhoun. Edwards's logic carried him into 
 hyper-Calvinism ; Calhoun's logic led him into 
 the bog of Nullification, out of which Andrew Jack- 
 son (who knew no more about logic than Goughdid) 
 dug him with the spade of common sense ! 
 
 Without logic, Mr. Gough produced all the best 
 effects of logic. He convinced, he converted, he in- 
 spired. He had logic; not, indeed, in the form of the 
 schools, but in that best form the spirit and truth of 
 it. 
 
 He set a just value on vocal training: 
 
 " I would advise every aspirant to eloquence to carefully cul- 
 tivate the voice, to acquire a perfect command of that organ if 
 possible. By careful, earnest, and frequent training, a defective 
 voice may not only be improved, but an astonishing mastery be 
 gained over it. A naturally harsh voice, which, without culti- 
 vation would grate upon the ear of others, may be so brought 
 into subjection as to become musical in its modulations. A 
 power may be gained of uttering loud, clear, prolonged, trumpet 
 tones, or sounds as sweet and penetrating as the echoes linger- 
 ing about the soul long after it has ceased haunting it as some 
 voices will for ever. 
 
 " No man with an incurable defect in his voice should seek 
 to become an orator. Think of a speaker attempting pathos 
 or sublimity, if he pronounces m like b, and n like d. ' O by 
 bother, by bother ! " ' My dabe is Dorval ! ' ' Freds, Robads, 
 cudtrybed ! ' The power and beauty of language are utterly 
 destroyed. 
 
 " I once heard a man who preached occasionally, and who 
 invariably pronounced like /. For instance : ' My brethrel, 
 pass roul the coltributiol box, but dolt put rusty lailsor buttols
 
 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES ON THE PLATFORM. 307 
 
 ill, but mully. If you put ill buttols, put 'em ill with holes ill 
 'em, lot with all the holes jailed ilto wull ! ' 
 
 "But, seriously, a cultivated or a naturally good voice is one 
 great essential. It is said that when William Pitt uttered his 
 torrents of indignant censure, or withering sarcasm, his voice 
 assumed an almost terrific sound." l 
 
 Notwithstanding his lifelong practice, this veteran 
 of the platform acknowledges that his dread of a 
 audience grew instead of decreasing: 
 
 " Often my fear has amounted to positive suffering, and 
 seldom am I called upon to face an audience when I would not 
 rather by far run the other way. A very large audience de- 
 presses me at first sight. I have often begged the chairman to 
 make an address, and give me time to recover. When I begin, 
 trembling seizes upon every limb ; my throat and tongue are 
 dry and feverish ; my voice hoarse or husky. ... I think 
 in my whole experience I never volunteered a speech, nor asked 
 for an invitation to address an audience. After the first nerv- 
 ousness has passed, I have but little sensation except the de- 
 sire to make my audience feel as I feel, see as I see, and gain 
 dominion for the time being over their wills and affections. If 
 I succeed in this or think I have their sympathy, and especially 
 should they be responsive, the fever is all gone: then comes a 
 consciousness of power that exhilarates, excites, and produces 
 a strange thrilling sensation of delight." * 
 
 The truth is that this timidity goes with the 
 oratorical temperament. He who would make others 
 sensitive to him must be sensitive to them. Sym- 
 pathy is the subtle nexus which binds speaker and 
 hearers for the time being in one mutually responsive 
 
 1 "Sunlight and Shadow," p. 377. 
 
 * " Sunlight and Shadow," pp. 341-342.
 
 308 JOHN B. COUGH. 
 
 whole. Magnetism is generated by this feeling 
 magnetism, which is the secret of the orator's irresist- 
 ible attractiveness. All great speakers are afflicted 
 as Gough was. A beginner once complained to Wen- 
 dell Phillips of stage-fright. " Ah," replied the Agi- 
 tator, " if you ever make a speaker you'll carry that 
 'stage-fright' with you throughout your life. I never 
 began a speech which I wouldn't have given $500 to 
 be safely through ! " Yet Mr. Phillips was the most 
 entirely composed of speakers apparently. The 
 elder Pitt, whose courageous genius " conquered for 
 his country one great Empire on the frozen shores of 
 Ontario, and another under the tropical sun at the 
 mouths of the Ganges," shook with fear whenever he 
 faced the House of Commons the throne of this 
 Jupiter of the tongue; and (foolishly) drank incredible 
 draughts of port to quiet his nerves. Daniel Webster, 
 when a boy, broke down as often as he tried to de- 
 claim a piece in school; and, when a man, assured Mr. 
 Everett that his heart beat like a trip-hammer when 
 he even thought of rising to speak. 
 
 When this timidity has been " talked through," 
 there comes to all " masters of assemblies," a self- 
 possession which enables them to ride upon the wild- 
 est storm. 
 
 " Like all other speakers," remarks Mr. Gough, " I 
 have been placed in embarrassing circumstances, and 
 a certain amount of self-possession has been neces- 
 sary to overcome an unexpected difficulty or opposi- 
 tion, especially such an interruption as often occurred 
 in the earlier days of temperance work. On such an 
 occasion I lost all fear and became self-possessed, 
 watching for an opportunity to retaliate. The secre-
 
 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES ON THE PLATFORM. 309 
 
 tary of the National League in London once told me 
 that he was tempted to induce some one to hiss me, 
 as the sound of a hiss seemed to stir me up to a more 
 vigorous speech. 
 
 " I was never utterly put down by an opposition in 
 public addresses. I have been sorely tried. On more 
 than one occasion I found it was of no use to employ 
 arguments with those who were determined to annoy 
 me, but if possible would think of some apt story to 
 get the laugh on them; and then I always succeeded 
 in maintaining my ground." 1 
 
 Mr. Gough was quick at repartee an invaluable 
 gift in a public speaker. At one of his meetings a 
 man attempted to make a disturbance. " Put him 
 out ! " shouted the audience. " Do not put him out," 
 cried Gough; "let him remain: he reminds me of the 
 woman who was taking her squalling child out of a 
 church, when the minister said ' Do not take the 
 baby out; it does not disturb me.' ' No,' retorted the 
 woman; 'but you disturb the baby.' This baby 
 doesn't disturb me, but I probably disturb him." 
 
 He knew how to rebuke sharply yet kindly. 
 
 "Once," he says, " a couple of young ladies had 
 taken a seat directly in front of me, and I had hardly 
 commenced when they began to whisper and giggle, 
 and became so excited in their conversation that they 
 were evidently annoying others. I did not like to tell 
 them to stop talking, so I said: 'A minister told me 
 that he regretted very much rebuking two young 
 ladies who were disturbing him and others by talking 
 during his discourse, for he was told that one of these 
 
 1 " Sunlight and Shadow," p. 372.
 
 3IO JOHN B. COUGH. 
 
 young ladies had just secured a beau, and that she 
 was so exceedingly tickled about it, she could not re- 
 frain on all occasions when she could get a listener 
 from expatiating on the dear young man's perfections; 
 there seemed to be so many of them she could never 
 exhaust the enumeration; and when she began to 
 talk about her beau, she went on interminably. Just 
 so whenever I see two young ladies talking together 
 in a church, or at a lecture, I imagine one or the 
 other, or both, have got a beau, and it would be hardly 
 fair to disturb them, so I let them talk.' The whisper- 
 ers troubled me no more." ' 
 
 With all his self-possession he was once nearly 
 upset. He thus tells the story: 
 
 " I was engaged to address a large number of children in the 
 afternoon, the meeting to be held on the lawn back of a 
 Baptist church in Providence, R. I. In the forenoon a friend 
 met me and said : 
 
 " ' I have some first- rate cigars, will you take a few ? ' 
 
 " 'No, I thank you.' 
 
 " ' Do take a half a dozen.' 
 
 " ' I have nowhere to put them.' 
 
 " ' You can put half a dozen in your cap.' 
 
 " I wore a cap in those days, and I put the cigars into it, and 
 at the appointed time I went to the meeting. I ascended the 
 platform, and faced an audience of more than two thousand 
 children. As it was out of doors I kept my cap on, for fear of 
 taking cold, and I forgot all about the cigars. 
 
 " Towards the close of my speech I became much in earnest, 
 and after warning the boys against bad company, bad habits, 
 and the saloons, I said : 
 
 " ' Now, boys, let us give three rousing cheers for temper- 
 ance and for cold water. Now, then, three cheers. Hurrah !' 
 
 1 " Sunlight and Shadow," p. 376.
 
 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES ON THE PLATFORM. 311 
 
 " And taking off my cap, I waved it most vigorously, when 
 away went the cigars right into the midst of the audience. 
 
 " The remaining cheers were very faint, and were nearly 
 drowned in the laughter of the crowd. 
 
 " I was mortified and ashamed, and should have been re- 
 lieved could I have sunk through the platform out of sight. 
 My feelings were still more aggravated by a boy coming up 
 the steps of the platform with one of those dreadful cigars, 
 saying: 
 
 " ' Here's one of your cigars, Mr. Gough.' 
 
 " Though I never afterwards put cigars in my hat when 
 going to a meeting, I am ashamed to say it was some time 
 after that before I gave up cigars altogether." ! 
 
 Mr. Gough justly affirms that the reaction of an 
 audience upon the speaker is immense. 
 
 " Sit cold, critical, determined not to be moved," he 
 says, " and let the speaker see a slight sneer on your 
 face; look at him as who should say, 'What are you 
 going to do next ?' and you will destroy his elasticity; 
 and unless he has the ability to turn from you, he 
 will be seriously embarrassed. But take your place 
 with the desire to be interested, look at the speaker, 
 as if you would say, ' We have come expecting and 
 desiring to be pleased; now do your best, and we will 
 show our approval,' and you encourage him to do 
 his best." 2 
 
 In illustration of this affirmation, he describes a 
 couple who came to hear him, and who sat in the 
 front seat : 
 
 " They were a middle-aged pair, and attracted my attention 
 
 1(1 Sunlight and Shadow," pp. 380, 381. 
 8 " Sunlight and Shadow," pp. 374, 375.
 
 312 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 at once. As I arose they greeted me with a smile, and evi- 
 dently settled themselves to listen and enjoy. As I proceeded, 
 I found them growing more and more interested, and at every 
 point I made, one would nod at the other. At a funny story 
 they laughed heartily. By-and-bye I related a pathetic inci- 
 dent. Then the smiling face was changed to a sober, then to 
 a sad expression. Soon the man began to sniff a little, feeling 
 for his handkerchief, which he did not find having probably 
 forgotten it, and left it at home. He felt in each of his pockets, 
 then wiped his eyes with his hand. Seeing his wife's handker- 
 chief in her lap, he took it and began using it. The wife next 
 began to sniff, and felt for the handkerchief. Missing it, she 
 found her husband using it ; and so, with a loving, wifely 
 motion, she leaned towards him, and taking an end of the 
 handkerchief, she wiped her eyes with it. One handkerchief 
 for two." 1 " 
 
 Apropos, speakers are frequently asked whether 
 they individualize when they face an audience, or 
 talk to them en masse. Mr. Gough crumbled the 
 aggregate up into detail : 
 
 " When I rise there is an involuntary selection of the persons 
 to whom I shall speak ; my will has nothing to do with it. 
 Glancing over an assembly, my eye rests on certain individuals 
 in different parts of the house, and to them my speech is 
 largely addressed. I seem compelled to speak to them and to 
 no others. The rest of the people are in the aggregate. If 
 I move these, I move the rest; if these are sympathetic I feel 
 it ; if they are unmoved I am distressed. I have more than once 
 talked for some minutes exclusively to one person who seemed 
 stolid or indifferent, trying all methods to move him." 2 
 
 Like some other great speakers Henry Clay, for 
 
 '" Sunlight and Shadow," p. 375. 
 9 " Sunlight and Shadow," p. 345.
 
 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES ON THE PLATFORM. 313 
 
 one he had no verbal memory. Hence he could never 
 rely upon reaching the end of an attempted quota- 
 tion : 
 
 " I tried once to quote the sentence, ' Locke says we are 
 born with powers and faculties capable of almost anything.' 
 
 " I began very confidently with my quotation. ' Locke says, 
 we are born.' 
 
 " There I stuck fast, and could not remember another word. 
 
 " So I said, ' We are born ; I suppose we are born ; but what 
 we are born/or in this connection, I am sure I do not know.' " ' 
 
 Mr. Gough had a good many laughable introduc- 
 tions. In Lockerbie, Scotland, the chairman said: 
 
 " I wish to introduce Mr. Gough, who is to speak 
 to us on the subject of temperance, and I hope he'll 
 prove far better than he looks." * 
 
 Another of his chairmen said: 
 
 "I rise to introduce Mr. Gough, famous in both 
 hemispheres for his sublime, as well as for his ridi- 
 culous." * 
 
 But an English presiding officer capped the climax. 
 Mr. Gough says: " He aspirated his H's, and put them 
 hon when they hought to 'ave been hoff and took them 
 hoff when they hought to 'ave been hon. Wishing to 
 compliment me, and remembering that Samson slew 
 a thousand with a jaw-bone, and some time after, 
 being thirsty, obtained, by miracle, water from the 
 dry bone, he said: " Ladies and Gentlemen, hi wish 
 to hintroduce the horator of the hevening; 'e comes 
 from the hother side of the Hatlantic; 'e is to speak 
 
 1 " Sunlight and Shadow," p. 345. 
 
 9 "Sunlight and Shadow," p. 382. * " Autobiography," p. 334.
 
 314 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 on the subject of temperance a very dry sub- 
 ject but when we "ear hour transhatlantic horator 
 discourse hon the subject of temperance, we 
 may imagine the miracle again performed by which 
 the prophet was refreshed with water proceeding 
 from the jaw-bone of a hass! ' 
 
 " Oh, dear! " exclaimed the " horator," " if he had 
 only stopped at jaw-bone I should not have minded 
 it; but that awful ' H ' almost extinguished me." 1 
 
 He gives an exquisite illustration of address shown 
 by one chairman in complying with custom without 
 sacrificing his own views: 
 
 " ' Friends ' often presided at my lectures, and on one occa- 
 sion, a gentleman belonging to that Society, was invited to 
 take the chair. He was one of the most refined and cultivated 
 men I ever met. We were often his guests, and were charmed 
 with him. He was in the committee-room, when the chairman 
 of the committee asked him if he would be kind enough, before 
 
 he introduced me to call on the Rev. W. R , rector of 
 
 C Church, Chelsea, to offer prayer. Now, it was quite 
 
 contrary to his ideas to give any man a title, or to ask any man 
 to pray. He smiled, and bowed assent. I wondered how he 
 would manage when he rose, and said in his sweet clear 
 voice : 
 
 '' ' If W. R. feels moved to pray, this audience will be 
 silent.' 
 
 " It was admirably done. The audience was silent, the 
 prayer was offered, for the reverend gentleman did feel moved 
 to pray; and afterwards I was introduced." 1 
 
 In the course of his professional career, Mr. Gough 
 
 1 " Autobiography," p. 334. 
 
 1 " Autobiography," pp. 334, 335.
 
 PERSONAL EXPERIENCES ON THE PLATFORM. 315 
 
 traveled 450,000 miles and delivered 8,606 addresses 
 before more than 9,000,000 hearers. This record is 
 without a parallel in ancient or modern times. Even 
 for this wiry itinerant it would have been impossible 
 if he had not gone into early partnership with 
 steam.
 
 V. 
 
 WHAT MANNER OF MAN WAS THIS? 
 
 THE professional season of 1885-6, opened auspi- 
 ciously. Mr. Gough had never been in greater de- 
 mand. Applications lay on his desk in the " Hillside" 
 library thick and white as snowflakes. He made 
 selections, mapped down his route, and began work. 
 His health was good, and had been through the pre- 
 ceding summer. 
 
 On Mojiday, the igth of February. 1886, his itinerary 
 brought him to Ffankford, asection 01 Philadelphia. 
 That evening he faced an immense audience, and 
 commenced his lecture in usual form. He had spoken 
 about twenty minutes, when he stepped forward, and, 
 with thrilling intensity of tone and an appealing ges- 
 ture, said: " Young man, keep your record clean." 
 At this moment his hand was lifted to his head and 
 pressed against the place wounded in Sandgate in 
 his childhood, ' then the arm dropped and hung 
 limp, he tottered, fell, and lay helpless. Amid great 
 confusion, he was lifted from the floor, carried to the 
 residence of his friends Dr. and Mrs. R. Bruce Burns, 
 in Frankford, and tenderly nursed through the night. 
 A telegram summoned Mrs. Gough to her husband's 
 
 1 Ante, p. 26.
 
 WHAT MANNER OF MAN WAS THIS? 317 
 
 side. Apoplexy! as plain a case, said the physicians, 
 as was ever seen. "Will the patient live?" was 
 the anxious inquiry. " He may," was the answer, 
 " but his activity is over." That would have been 
 death in life to John B. Gough. He was spared the 
 trial of chronic invalidism. Lapsing into uncon- 
 sciousness, he passed away on the i8th inst., in the 
 sixty-ninth year of his age. It was the form of de- 
 parture he would have selected had the choice been 
 given him death in the harness. 
 
 The tireless humanitarian hated ostentation. He 
 had often expressed a dislike for public funerals. 
 His well-known wishes were respected in the last sad 
 rites. A quiet, informal gathering of more immediate 
 friends and neighbors united with the family in pay- 
 ing a final tribute of respect and affection at 
 " Hillside," on the 24th of February. The Boylston 
 pastor, the Rev. Israel Ainsworth, and the Rev. Drs. 
 D. E. Means and George H. Gould, of Worcester, and 
 Wm. M. Taylor, of New York, conducted the simple 
 services. The coffin lay in the library, among the 
 books he loved so much dear, unconscious intimates. 
 Near it, across a chair, hung a faded handkerchief. 
 This handkerchief had a history. Years before, in 
 England, it had been brought to Mrs. Gough by a 
 woman, who said: 
 
 " I am very poor. I would give your husband a 
 thousand pounds, if I had it I can only give him 
 this (presenting the handkerchief). I married with 
 the fairest prospects before me, but my husband took 
 to drinking, and everything went, until, at last, I 
 found myself in one miserable room. My husband 
 lay drunk in the corner, and my sick child lay moan-
 
 318 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 ing on my knee. I wet this handkerchief with my 
 tears. My husband met yours. He spoke a few words 
 and gave a grasp of the hand; and now for six years 
 my husband has been all to me that a husband can 
 be to a wife. I have brought your husband the very 
 handkerchief I wet that night with my tears, and I 
 want him to remember that he has wiped away those 
 tears from my eyes, I trust in God for ever." 
 
 This was among the most prized of all Mr. Cough's 
 mementoes. Often, in showing it, he would say: 
 
 "You do not think it worth three cents, but you 
 have not money enough to buy it from me." 
 
 The most eloquent lips were cold and tame that 
 day compared with this fluttering rag! If all the tears 
 he had wiped away, and all the lives he had been 
 instrumental in rehabilitating, could have spoken, 
 what a testimony they would have given! 
 
 On the following Sunday, memorial services were 
 held in many places, from Maine to California, of 
 which, perhaps, the most representative one was that 
 in the Mechanics' Hall, at Worcester the scene of 
 some of the orator's most notable experiences. Here, 
 Protestants and Catholics, clergymen and laymen, 
 twined upon his brow a garland of everlasting. 
 
 A man's life is his fittest epitaph. The foregoing 
 pages recite the experiences, reveal the emotions, and 
 repeat the words of John B. Cough. They have been 
 written in vain if the reader feels any need of elaborate 
 characterization in this closing chapter. Yet a few 
 words of broad and final estimate may be adventured. 
 
 John B. Cough's gifts have overshadowed his 
 graces. He has never received credit for the sterling
 
 WHAT MANNER OF MAN WAS THIS? 319 
 
 moral and mental faculties which fed his surpassing 
 oratory. Manhood is better, and rarer, than genius. 
 Those who knew the great advocate of temperance 
 found the man off the platform even more admirable 
 than the orator on it. He had in complete develop- 
 ment those moral and religious elements of character 
 upon which Mr. Webster lays such stress in his sketch 
 of that great lawyer, Jeremiah Mason. In his career, 
 morality was the bud and religion the flower. He 
 had the Puritan conscience. Without this, his sensi- 
 tiveness and natural inclination to yield would have 
 incapacitated him for the warfare he felt called to 
 wage. Steadied by this, he " bore right up and steered 
 right on," undeterred by the assaults of foes or by the 
 more insidious entreaties of mistaken friends. 
 
 True, in his unsheltered youth he sinned grievously 
 so did Augustine. But as Monica planted deep in 
 Augustine's heart the leaven which by-and-by leavened 
 the whole lump, so did Jane Gongh imbue her son with 
 principles which eventually brought him to himself 
 and dominated his after life. In his dissipated days, 
 Gough made debts, as many as his different resi- 
 dences, and as large as his opportunities. Almost as 
 soon as he reformed, he went back over that long, 
 wide track and paid those debts, principal and interest. 
 As a reformer, his sympathy for the drunkard did not 
 blind him to the sin of drunkenness, which he never 
 failed to condemn as sin. 
 
 No sooner did he discover his peculiar talent than 
 he consecrated it. He held life and opportunity to 
 be synonyms of duty. Ability, in his view, was a 
 sacred trust, to be used for the glory of God and the 
 relief of man's estate. " Pythagoras," says Lord
 
 320 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 Bacon, " being asked what he was, answered, ' That 
 if Hiero was ever at the Olympian games, he knew the 
 manner, that some came as merchants, to utter their 
 commodities, and some came to make good cheer 
 and meet their friends, and some came to look on; 
 and that he was one of them that came to look on.' " 
 Upon which the great Englishman remarks: " But 
 men must know that in this theater of men's life, it is 
 reserved only for God and angels to be lookers-on." 
 Moral and religious principle lay at thr bottom of 
 Gough's character, and inspired him with a lofty 
 purpose. In moral earnestness he has had few peers 
 among public men. 
 
 Intellectually, Mr. Gough was far above the average. 
 His mind was at once deep and broad. His general- 
 ization and his analysis were alike admirable. Order 
 and proportion characterized his mental constitu- 
 tion. The reflective and perceptive faculties were in 
 harmonious adjustment. Zeal was tempered by 
 prudence, justice by mercy, and self-confidence by 
 modesty, which latter quality was, however, in 
 excess. Who ever exceeded him in humor? and who 
 ever subdued humor to more serious uses ? His mind 
 was preeminently fair. Judgment held the scales 
 even, so that he was seldom betrayed either in private 
 or in public, into an intemperate utterance. 
 
 Indeed, the basis of Mr. Gough's mental operations 
 was robust common sense, " so called," according to 
 an eminent publicist, " not because it is so very com- 
 mon a trait of character of public men, but because it 
 is the final judgment on great practical questions to 
 which the mind of the community is pretty sure 
 eventually to arrive." Common sense held Gough
 
 WHAT MANNER OF MAN WAS THIS? 321 
 
 aloof from the excesses into which his ardent tem- 
 perament might otherwise have hurried him, and 
 poised his singularly long and successful apostle- 
 ship at an equal remove from the isms, on the one 
 hand, and the " doubtful disputations," on the other 
 hand, of an era of " sane giants, and giants gone mad." 
 
 Greatness is like money; it is easier won than held. 
 The greatness which Gough achieved he retained 
 further proof of the fine balance of his powers His 
 intellectual resources are indicated and vindicated by 
 the surprising fact that he was able to argue substan- 
 tially one question before two hemispheres, through 
 all the changes of thought and feeling on the subject 
 of half a century, without any abatement of popular 
 interest either in the theme or in the orator. Nor was 
 this due to his oratory alone. For oratorical fashions, 
 like other fashions, have their day. Mere tricks of 
 speech and taking mannerisms tire when the novelty 
 wears off. It was the good sense behind the utterance, 
 and winging it, that sustained the orator by compel- 
 ling respect for the man. 
 
 Speaking, as he did, with abandon, and enacting a 
 drama, half farce and half tragedy, there was con- 
 stant danger of saying or doing something objection- 
 able. Yet Mr. Gough never did a vulgar thing, nor 
 ever said a word that would bring a blush to the 
 cheek of modesty. A remarkable fact, when his 
 origin is remembered. " Without early training," 
 says one of his biographers, " or early culture, he 
 took on both with wonderful facility ; was welcomed, 
 not merely tolerated, in the best society, and moved 
 in it the acknowledged peer of gentlemen, scholars, 
 and statesmen. He never forgot the bitter and 
 21
 
 322 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 degrading experiences of his early years ; but no vul- 
 garity in word, and no discourtesy or rudeness in act 
 ever reminded others of it." 
 
 Of his generosity the rogues who plundered him 
 for forty years could speak, if they would. The poor 
 and needy, too, fed on it, and were grateful. As for 
 his sympathy, it was as wide as human necessity. He 
 kindled a fire on the hearthstone of his heart, at which 
 friend or foe, tramp or gentleman was free to warm 
 his hands. 
 
 Mr. Gough's social disposition proved a snare at 
 first ; but, later, it became a source of delight to him- 
 self and to others. Throughout America he was 
 the most welcome of guests. Children (of whom he 
 was passionately fond) greeted him as a playmate, 
 while their parents found in him a fascinating com- 
 panion. He romped with the youngsters and talked 
 with the elders with impartial facility. When he 
 went away it was hard to say whether nursery or 
 drawing-room missed him the most. 
 
 But it was in his own home that this great-hearted 
 man was at his best. He loved to have the family 
 around him, and entertained them endlessly. He 
 had two domestic passions music and reading. In 
 the twilight, he would seat himself at the melodeon 
 and improvise, without knowing a note, counting the 
 time by a self-invented system; sometimes (especially 
 before his voice was broken by wear and tear) burst- 
 ing forth into song, comic or pathetic as the whim 
 seized him Gough at the melodeon, as on the plat- 
 form! Oftenest, perhaps, he read aloud, in which 
 charming art he was an adept. When alone in the 
 library, if any passage in a book particularly pleased
 
 WHAT MANNER OF MAN WAS THIS? 323 
 
 him, he would rise, find some one, and share the en- 
 joyment by reading it aloud. 
 
 One bad habit he had he disliked to go to bed. 
 If he could get any one to sit up and be read or 
 talked to, he would read or talk on until morning. 
 Some of his most inimitable stories and recitations 
 were given to these midnight audiences of the fire- 
 side. When thus belated he did retire, he hated to 
 get up, and would sleep long after the other members 
 of the household were hard at work. 
 
 The relations between Mr. and Mrs. Gough were 
 ideal. She had a strong character of the best New 
 England type, and supplied any defects which ex- 
 isted in him with feminine tact and self-outpouring. 
 The comfort of his home, and his easy circumstances, 
 were largely due to her. 1 
 
 Mr. Gough's powers as a speaker have been analyzed 
 in previous chapters. He was preeminent as an orator 
 in two nations of orators. Yet he had one singular 
 defect. Although he wrote voluminously and spoke 
 oftener and more acceptably than almost any other 
 man, he could__jiotcoin striking phrases. He never 
 photographed an epocll, ui putllie TvTTble duty of the 
 hour in an inspired sentence. Talleyrand crowded a 
 great truth for all time in a mot " Everybody is clev- 
 erer than anybody." The younger Pitt, in moving 
 for a committee to examine into the state of English 
 representation, in the days of close boroughs, 
 asserted that these were the strongholds of that cor- 
 ruption to which he attributed all the calamities of 
 
 1 Mrs. Gougli died at " Hillside," after a long illness, April 19, 
 1891. Upon her decease, " Hillside " passed out of the family.
 
 324 JOHN B. GOUGH. 
 
 the nation, and condensed the evil in a phrase which 
 was soon on all lips: " This corruption has grown 
 with the growth of England, and strengthened with 
 her strength, but has not diminished with her dimi- 
 nution, nor decayed with her decay." Carlyle 
 summed up the history of a hundred wretched years 
 in a thrilling climax; " The eighteenth century com- 
 mitted suicide by blowing its brains out in the French 
 Revolution." Wm. H. Seward focused the philosophy 
 of the civil war in the phrase " irrepressible conflict." 
 Charles Sumner indicated the public policy of the war 
 for the Union, when, in pleading for the arming of 
 the blacks, he cried: " The question is not whether 
 we shall carry the war into Africa, but whether we 
 shall carry Africa into the war." Gladstone declared 
 that " the European struggle in one of the masses 
 against the classes." Macaulay's prose is as epigram- 
 matic, as Pope's verse. Cervantes, in Don Quixote, 
 supplied the whole Spanish nation with proverbial 
 philosophy. 
 
 Gough's speeches and books are searched in vain 
 for such happy inspirations. He has left few memo- 
 rable sayings. This was not due to his lack of educa- 
 tion. The defect was constitutional. Richard Brins- 
 ley Sheridan owed no more to schools than Gough 
 did. Nevertheless, Sheridan's speeches are full of 
 mdts, while his plays sparkle with epigrams. Bunyan 
 was not a learned man, yet the immortal tinker gave 
 the world its finest allegory. Shakespeare was not a 
 scholar; but his plays are handbooks of familiar 
 quotations. The truth is, that Gough did not possess 
 the literary faculty. He could not balance dainty 
 periods, nor utter brilliant phrases. He was clumsy
 
 WHAT MANNER OF MAN WAS THIS? 325 
 
 with the pen, and, in speaking, vitalized his matter by 
 his manner. His style was discursive made so 
 partly by the habits of the platform, but more by the 
 bent of his genius. 
 
 We are confident that an academic education would 
 have hurt more than it could have helped him. Sam- 
 son was probably a better-looking man after Delilah 
 had shaved off his hair but his strength was gone! 
 A fastidious culture would have refined away much 
 of Gough's popular power. What he might have 
 gained in routine knowledge would have poorly com- 
 pensated us for what he must have lost in spontaneity. 
 One day on a journey he met Wendell Phillips. In 
 the course of their chat he lamented his lack of edu- 
 cation. " Why," replied the great master of classic 
 speech, " any scholar who hears you perceives at once 
 your lack of educational training, so-called; but" 
 added he, with a smile "perhaps in your case the 
 world is all the better for that." 
 
 One memorable sentence Mr. Gough did utter 
 not because of any sparkle in it, but because of its 
 practical turn and accurate self-photography. All 
 the events of his career, the tragic mournfulnessand 
 failure of its opening, the moral jubilancy and triumph 
 of its close, those five hundred thousand miles of weari- 
 some travel, the nine thousand fervid lectures, the nine 
 millions of eager hearers on both sides of the Atlantic, 
 are condensed and voiced in his last and dying 
 words: " Keep your record clean ! "
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Abbott, Lyman (quoted), 164, 184. 
 
 Acquinas, 86. 
 
 Adams, John, 100. 
 
 Addison, Josepli, 223. 
 
 Albucasis, the Arabian inventor of distillation, 87. 
 
 Alcohol, the inebriating principle, 87 ; history of, 87. 
 
 Alliance, The United Kingdom, 174, 235. 
 
 America, Colonial, Universal use of liquors in, 99. 
 
 Ames, Fisher, 100. 
 
 Appetite, Influence of religion on, 282. 
 
 Aristotle (quoted), 86. 
 
 Arnold. Dr., of Rugby (mentioned), 241. 
 
 Arnot, The Rev. William, 203, 237. 
 
 Augustine, St., 319. 
 
 Bacon, Lord (mentioned), 51, 320. 
 
 Beatty, Mrs.. 154-155. 
 
 Bede,' The Venerable. 86. 
 
 Beecher, The Rev. Henry Ward, 152, 213. 
 
 Beecher, The Rev. Dr. Lyman, 61, go, 131-132, 140. 
 
 Beman, The Rev. Dr., 133. 
 
 Bennett, Billy, Anecdote of, 24. 
 
 Berlin, City of, 152. 
 
 Boleyn, Anne (mentioned), 22. 
 
 Booth, Edwin, Letter of, on theater, 59-60. 
 
 Bowly, Samuel, 240. 
 
 Bright, John, 161, 204, 240. 
 
 Britain, Great, Consumption of liquors in, 86; effects, 86-89. 
 
 Buckingham, J. S., president of the London Temperance 
 
 League, 144, 145. 
 Burke, Edmund (quoted), 33; 268. 
 Burns, Robert, 33; 291. 
 Bunyan, John, 324. 
 Byron, Lord (mentioned), 152.
 
 3^8 INDEX. 
 
 Cairns, Lord High Chancellor, 240. 
 
 Campbell, The Rev. Dr. G. C., (quoted), 145, 175, 179. 
 
 Canterbury, Cathedral of (mentioned), 21. 
 
 Carlyle, Thomas, 324. 
 
 Cervantes, 324. 
 
 Chapin, The Rev. Dr. E. H. (mentioned), 213. 
 
 Chicago, 170. 
 
 Choate, Rufus, 100. 
 
 Collier, Jeremy, 59. 
 
 Collier, William, founder of The National Philanthropist, go. 
 
 Cowper, the poet, 271. 
 
 Crime caused by liquor, 227-229. 
 
 Cruikshank, George, 141, 155, 180, 182, 237. 
 
 Cruikshankiana, 219. 
 
 Curtis, George Wm., 213. 
 
 Cuyler, The Rev. Dr. T. L., 171, 270, 271. 
 
 Dante, the poet (mentioned), 51. 
 
 Dickens, Chas. (quoted), 108, 157, 247, 249. 
 
 Distillation, how produced, 87 ; cheapens alcohol, 87. 
 
 Dover, City of (mentioned), 21. 
 
 Dow, Neal, 174, 175. 
 
 Drunkenness, History of, 86-90; proposed remedies for, 89-91; 
 
 main cause of the profligacy and squalor of London, 255. 
 Dutton, The Rev. Dr. (mentioned), 171. 
 
 Edwards, Dr. Justin, 90. 
 Elizabeth, Queen (mentioned), 21. 
 English, Mind of the, 195-196. 
 
 Established Church of England, Attitude of the, toward tem- 
 perance, 240-241. 
 Everett, Edward, 100, 213. 
 Exeter Hall, 143, 144. 151, 181, 205. 206, 241. 
 
 Farrar, Canon (quoted), 229, 239, 241. 
 Fisk, Gen. Clinton B., 267. 
 Florence, City of (mentioned), 51. 
 Folkestone, 21, 155. 
 France (mentioned), 21. 
 
 Garrison, Wm. Lloyd, 90. 
 
 Gladstone, Wm. E., 324. 
 
 Goldsmith, Oliver (mentioned), 51. 
 
 Gough, Jane, gives birth to John B., 17; schoolmistress, 18 ; 
 
 religious views, 18; when she met her future husband, 21 ; 
 
 consents to her son's emigration, 34 ; visits son on ship-
 
 INDEX. 329 
 
 board, 36; pins Scripture texts and references on John's 
 clothing, 39; letters to her son, 41,42; goes to America, 46; 
 effect of hard times on, 48; death of, 49; burial in Potter's 
 Field, 50. 
 
 Gough, John, life as a soldier, 17; a Methodist, 18 ; stationed 
 at Sandgate, 21 ; drills son, 23. 24; (mentioned), 29; visits 
 son on shipboard, 36 ; emigrates to America, 127, 128; is 
 supported by his son until his death, 128. 
 
 Gough, John B., birth, 17 ; name, 18 ; teaches school, 19; early 
 traits, 19, 20; local haunts, 22; smuggling incident, 23; 
 playing soldier, 23, 24 ; love of fun, 24-26; goes to mill, 26 ; 
 meets with an accident, 26, 27; attends a fair, 27; early 
 duties, 28 ; earns money by reading, 28 ; leaves home for 
 America, 34 ; first view of London, 35 ; ship becalmed off 
 Sandgate, 36; sees parents and sister, 36; the voyage, 36; 
 makes new friends, 37 ; reaches America, 37 ; journey up the 
 Hudson, 38 ; Oneida county farm, 38; opinion of American 
 weather, 39; finds fresh proofs of his mother's love and care, 
 39; letter to mother (quoted), 39, 40; leaves farm, 42; in 
 New York, 43 ; apprentice in bookbindery, 43, 44 ; first 
 boarding-place, 44; meets a Good Samaritan, 45; bright 
 prospects, 45 ; urges parents to emigrate, 45 ; housekeeping 
 with mother and sister, 46; hard times, 47; mother's death, 
 49; his feelings, 49, 50; the pauper funeral, 50; effect of 
 mother's death on him, 50-52; in good company, 52 ; changes 
 lodgings, 55; sickness, 55; visits Oneida county farm, 55; 
 returns to New York, 55; becomes reckless, 56; accomplish- 
 ments, 56; begins to drink, 56; goes to Rhode Island, 57; 
 drinking habits, 58; acquaintance with actors, 58; becomes 
 one, 58; early views of theater, 58 ; effects of theater on him, 
 60; line ol characters on stage, 60; leaves the stage, 61 ; 
 reminiscences of the stage (quoted), 61-63 > a drunkard, 64; 
 goes to Newburyport, Mass., 64; ships on fishing-smack, 
 64 ; the storm, his account (quoted), 65-66 ; marriage, 66 ; 
 acquaintances cut him, 67; views on a drunkard's pride 
 (quoted), 67, 68 ; out of work, 68 ; opens a bookbindery, 68 ; 
 bankruptcy, 69; joins minstrel company, 69; effect of drunk- 
 enness on his nature, 70; sends wife to sister at Providence, 
 R. I. ,71 ; the spree, 71-72; delirium tremens, his description 
 of (quoted), 72-73; wife returns, 73; wandering, 74; goes to 
 Worcester, Mass., 74; death of wife and child, 74; works at 
 trade again, 74; drinks worse than ever, 74. 75; disturbs a 
 church service, 75 ; delirium tremens again, 76 ; contemplates 
 suicide, 76; the touch on the shoulder, 79-83; signs the 
 pledge, 83; in hell, 83; effects of self-respect, 84; second
 
 330 INDEX. 
 
 speech on temperance, 85 ; humble beginnings us a speaker, 
 85-86; becomes a Washingtonian lecturer, 91 ; breaks his 
 pledge, 92-94 ; re-signs the pledge, 93 ; sees the need of 
 religious principle, 94-95 ; at work again, 99 ; early fees, 100 ; 
 first speech in Boston, 100; arrested for debt, 101 ; " tem- 
 perancing" tours, 102; second marriage, 102; first speech in 
 New York City, 104; lectures at various points, 104, 105; 
 first view of Niagara Falls, and impressions of (quoted), 105; 
 unites with the Church, 105 ; temperance demonstration in 
 Faneuil Hall, 105-106; apostrophe to water, 106; visits 
 Philadelphia, 107; staple of his speeches at this time, 99-109; 
 early appearance and manner of speaking, iio-iu ; writes 
 his autobiography, 109; over-sensitive disposition, no; vul- 
 nerable point, 1 10 ; story of the " drugged " soda-water, 1 10- 
 114; serious illness, 112, 113; breaks with Washingtonian- 
 ism, 115; his criticisms of that movement (quoted), 116, 117 ; 
 views on prohibitive law (quoted), 117-118; his fees criti- 
 cised, 118; lack of self-esteem, 119; visits Virginia, 119; 
 description of slave auction, 119, 120; mock serenade in 
 Lynchburg, 120; speech there, 120-121; brain fever, 121; 
 speech to negroes in Richmond, 122; views of slavery, 123; 
 work among children, 123; summary of five years, 123- 
 124; mobbed in Faneuil hall, 124-125 ; timidity before an 
 audience, 126. 127; his father arrives in America, 127, 128; 
 moves from Roxbury to Boston, 128 ; moves from Boston to 
 "Hillside," 128; "Hillside" described, 128; lecture habits, 
 128; visits Canada, 129-131 ; cells upon two ladies, 129-121 ; 
 early traveling, 131; at Pittsburgh, Alleghany City, and 
 Cincinnati, 131; writing the pledge in albums, 132; at 
 Halifax, Nova Scotia, 132; laughable experience at Col- 
 burg, Canada, 133; effects of his advocacy, 134, 135; 
 invited to Great Britain, 139; reluctance to go, 139, 140; 
 lands at Liverpool, 140 ; reaches London, 141 ; day of his 
 English debut, 143; evening of debut, 145; newspaper 
 account of debut, 146-150; in Scotland, 152, 153; speaks at 
 Edinburgh, 153 ; fete in Surrey Gardens, 153 ; visits Sandgate, 
 154, 155; contract with London Temperance League for 
 two years' work, 156; work on and off the platform, 156, 157; 
 reference to labors (quoted), 157-158; an incident, 158, 159; 
 a rencontre at Glasgow, 159, 160; thinks the cause better 
 organized in Britain than in America, 161, 162; British 
 hospitality, 163; special work, 163; farewell fete, 164; re- 
 sult of first visit, 164, 165; at home, 169; first visit to the 
 Northwest, 169; opinion of Chicago, 170; prophesies the 
 future of the Northwest (quoted), 170; vacation, 171; signs
 
 INDEX. 331 
 
 contract for second British tour, 173, 174; remarks on Dow's 
 visit to England, 174, 175; letter to G. C. Campbell on tem- 
 perance in the United States, 175; controversy stirred by 
 this letter, 175, 176; departure for Britain, 176; arrives in 
 England, 179; personal detraction, 179; speech in Queen 
 Street Hall, 180; in London, 181 ; rents apartments in Edin- 
 burgh, 181 ; begins English itinerary, 181, 182; learns of 
 a libelous letter, 182 ; name of libeler, 182, 183; brings suit 
 for libel, 184; feelings hurt by abuse, 184, 185; resumes 
 work, 186; visits the continent, 186; opinion of Paris, 186, 
 187; first view of Mt. Blanc, 187, 188; opinion of sobriety 
 of wine-growing countries, 188, 189; anecdotes of travel, 
 189; back in England, 190; crosses to Ireland, 190; views 
 on the Irish question, 191, 192 ; remarks on famine in 1848, 
 193; in the streets of Dublin and Cork, 193, 194; views of 
 English morals and manners, 195, sg.; activity of good 
 women in England, 196, 197 ; characterizes English society, 
 197-206; condition of manufacturing districts, 199, 200; 
 condition of miners and agricultural laborers, 200, 201 ; 
 scene in Bedfordshire, 201 ; refers to condition of working 
 people in Scotland and Wales, 201, 202; describes Dr. 
 Guthrie, 202, 203 ; meets Dr. Arnot, 203 ; acquaintance with 
 other celebrities, 204; favorite resorts in London, 204; his 
 account of farewell speech in Exeter Hall, 205, 206; good- 
 bye to Britain, 206 ; record of work done, 206 ; spends 
 birthday at " Hillside," 209; various welcomes home, 209; 
 visits Joel Stratton on death bed, 210 ; speaks at his funeral, 
 2ii ; provides for Stratton's wife, 211; anecdote of travel, 
 2il; his new departure in lecturing, 211 ; success of new 
 departure, 212; titles of lectures, 212, 213; contrasted with 
 other lecturers, 213 ; remarks of enemies on his new depar- 
 ture, 213; demand for services, 214; charged with growing 
 rich, 214; his table of average receipts for lectures, 215 ; his 
 comments on it (quoted), 215, 216; years of Civil War, 216; 
 his connection with, outlined by himself. 216, 117; "silver 
 wedding " celebrated at " Hillside," 218, 219 ; valuable gifts, 
 219; revises and enlarges "Autobiography," 222; remarks on 
 disputed authorship of first "Autobiography," 222 ; distinction 
 between speaking and writing, 222, 223; effects of liquor 
 traffic (quoted), 224, 225 ; his story of two clergymen, 225 ; 
 domestic ravages, 225-229; effect in crime, 229; shows the 
 effects in three columns, 230 ; his question, 231 ; third British 
 tour, 235 ; enthusiastic reception, 235 ; his account of the 
 origin of the term " tee-total "(quoted), 235, 236 ; describes 
 Westminster Abbey and neighborhood, 236, 237 ; revisits
 
 332 INDEX. 
 
 the Continent, 237, 238; first speech in Spurgeon's Taber- 
 nacle, 238, 239; finds temperance in fashion, 240, 241; 
 changed attitude of the Established Church, 240, 241 ; visits 
 "Seven Dials" (quoted), 241, 242; his estimate of Dr. 
 
 ioseph Parker, 243, 244; his estimate of Spurgeon, 244, 245 ; 
 is anecdote of the hornet, 246 ; in London streets, 247 ; re- 
 marks on London (quoted), 247, 248; " Vot's hup, cabby? " 
 (quoted), 248; street boys and girls, 248, 249 ; interviews a 
 boy thief, 249; scene in Gray's Inn lane, 250, 251 ; remarks 
 on costermongers, 252. 253; city missionaries and street 
 preachers, 254; his ideas of practical religion, 254, 255; 
 speaks at "Five Dials," 255; speaks in Hoxton Hall, 256, 
 257; returns home, 265 ; writes "Sunlight and Shadow," 
 265 ; prepares " Platform Echoes," 266 ; leaves Republican 
 party for Prohibition party, 266, 267 ; letters in explana- 
 tion. 268, 269; his catholicity of spirit, 269; his tribute 
 to the homes where he had been entertained, 270; in- 
 timacy with Rev. Dr. Wm. M. Taylor, 270; and with the 
 Rev. Dr. Cuyler, 270-271 ; ever-increasing hatred of the 
 drink, 272 ; his patience tried by palterers, 272-273 ; his phi- 
 losophy of temperance, 274; alcohol alien to life, 274-276; 
 pathology of drunkenness, 276; alcoholic stages, 276-277; 
 his legend of the three choices, 277-278 ; sinfulness of drink- 
 ing, 278-279; views on relation of wine to civilization, 279- 
 280; his remedies for drunkenness. 280-281 ; total abstinence, 
 280-281 ; appeal to moderate drinkers, 281 ; value of religious 
 principles, 281-282; religion and appetite. 282; condemns 
 use of strong wine at communion, 282-283; comments on 
 controversy over Bible wines, 283 ; his basis of Christian 
 opposition to drinking, 283-284 ; queer incidences of exegesis, 
 284; place of prohibitory law in temperance reform, 284-285 ; 
 appreciation of cooperative agents and agencies, 286, 287 ; 
 tribute to the W. C. T. U. (quoted), 287; opinion of refuges 
 and homes, 287 ; his opinion of temperance restaurants, 287, 
 288; an optimist, 288; remarks on progress, 289,290; his 
 mastery of the temperance cyclopaedia, 290, 291 ; various 
 experiences with beggars, borrowers, and bores, 292-300; 
 adventures on the platform, 301, 302; methods of prepara- 
 tion, 303 ; use of illustration, 303 ; use of stories, 304; teaches 
 himself to think, 304; change of method of preparation, 304; 
 lack of logic, 305, 306 ; value of vocal training, 306. 307 ; his 
 fear of an audience, 307, 308 ; self-possession, 308; power of 
 repartee, 309, 310; a cigar story, 310, 31 1 ; how to embarrass a 
 speaker (quoted), 311 ; how to help one illustrated, 311,312; 
 habit of selecting persons to talk to, 312; lack of verbal
 
 INDEX. 333 
 
 memory, 313; some of his chairmen, 313, 314; statistics of 
 his professional life, 314, 315 ; stricken with apoplexy while 
 speaking in Philadelphia, 316; his death, 316; funeral at 
 " Hillside," 317, 318 ; various memorial services, 318 ; final 
 estimate, 318-325. 
 
 Gough, Mrs. Mary, Sketch of, 102 ; marries John B., 102- 
 103; first home in Roxbury. 103; joins Mt. Vernon Church, 
 Boston, 105; residence at " Hillside," 128 ; goes with her hus- 
 band to Cincinnati, 131 ; accompanies him to Great Britain, 
 141; second English visit, 176; visits the continent, 186; 
 views skulls at Cologne, 189; death of two brothers, 209; 
 her husband's traveling companion, 215; adopts family of 
 younger brother, 218; letter of thanks to Silver- Wedding 
 Committee, 220, 221 ; goes with husband to Britain in 1878, 
 235 : a true helpmeet, 323 ; death, 323 (note). 
 
 Gough, Miss, sister of John B., 19; (mentioned), 36; emigrates 
 to America, 46 ; out of work, 47 ; announces mother's death 
 to John, 49; changes lodgings, and gets work, 55; married, 
 and sends for her brother's wife, 71, 218: prosperity, 218. 
 
 Gould, The Rev. Dr. George. 171, 176. 
 
 Grant, Deacon Moses, 61, 100, 101, 103, 124-127, 140, 151. 
 
 Guthrie, The Rev. Dr. Thos., 153, 202, 203, 237. 
 
 Hall, The Rev. Dr. John, 190. 
 
 Hall, The Rev. Dr. Newman (quoted), 145, 203. 
 
 Harrison, Smith, 141, 153. 
 
 Harvey (mentioned), 21. 
 
 Hawkins, J. H. W., 91. 
 
 Henry VIII. (mentioned), 21, 22. 
 
 Herodotus, 86. 
 
 Hogarth, the painter, 87. 
 
 Ireland, 194. 
 
 Irish, The, characterized, 192. 
 
 Iti, Chinese inventor of distillation, 87. 
 
 Johnson, Dr. Samuel, 51,96, 301. 
 
 Katherine of Aragon (mentioned), 22. 
 
 Kelly, Sir Fitzroy, 240. 
 
 King, The Rev. Dr. Starr, 213. 
 
 Lamb, Chas., 247, 271. 
 Lawson, Wm., M. P., 240. 
 Lees, F. R., 182-185. 
 Liberator, The (mentioned), 90.
 
 334 INDEX. 
 
 Lincoln, Abraham, 33. 
 
 Liquor traffic, 267, 268. 
 
 Livermore, Mrs. Mary /. ., 267. 
 
 London, City of. 152, 180, 247, 248. 
 
 London city missionaries and street preachers, 254. 
 
 London Temperance League, 140, 142, 174. 
 
 Lyceum, The, 212. 
 
 Macaulay, 324. 
 
 Afam'a a potu, the drunkard's liturgy, 225. 
 
 Marshall, The Hon. Thos., 116, 117. 
 
 Mason, Jeremiah, 319. 
 
 Mathew, Father, 192. 
 
 Mississippi, Early prohibitory status of, 90. 
 
 Monica, mother of St. Augustine, 319. 
 
 Morley, Samuel, 239. 
 
 National and Scottish Temperance League, The, 174, 235. 
 New York City, 152. 
 
 Ohio, Early prohibitory legislation in, 90. 
 Otis, James (mentioned), loo. 
 Otway (mentioned), 51. 
 
 Paris. City of, 140, 152, 186, 187. 
 
 Parker, The Rev. Dr. Joseph, 243, 244, 246. 
 
 Pathology of drunkenness, Wilson's, 276. 
 
 Philanthropist, The National, first temperance newspaper, 
 
 90. 
 
 Phillips, Wendell (quoted), 89, 100, 211, 213, 247, 267, 325. 
 Pierce, Franklin, 102. 
 Pitt, The younger, 323. 
 Plato (quoted), 86. 
 
 Pledge, the temperance, Philosophy of, 161-162. 
 Poverty, characterized, 28-29. 
 Prohibition, Lawfulness of, 285-286 ; dependence upon public 
 
 sentiment, 135, 287. 
 Prohibition party, 266, 267. 
 
 Quincy, Josiah, 100. 
 
 Reed, Sir Charles, 238. 
 Republican party, 267. 
 Richardson, Dr., 240, 274, 276, 277. 
 Rum, Footprints of, 224-231. 
 Rush, Dr. Benjamin, 90.
 
 INDEX. 335 
 
 Sandgate (mentioned), 17; sketch of, 21 ; occupation of inhabi- 
 tants, 23. 
 
 Sandgate, Castle of, 21, 22. 
 Scottish, The, Temperance League, 174. 
 Seward, Wm. H.. 324. 
 Seymour, Katherine (mentioned), 22. 
 Shaftesbury, The Earl of, 161, 204. 
 Shakespeare, 324. 
 Sheridan, Richard Brinsley, 324. 
 Smith, The Rev. Matthew Hale, 91. 
 Smollet, the historian (quoted), 86, 87. 
 Spurgeon, The Rev. C. H., 243-246. 
 St. John, John P., 267. 
 Stanley, Dean Arthur P., 237, 255. 
 Stanley, The Hon. Maude. 255. 
 Stratton, Joel, 79-82, 210, 211. 
 Sumner, Chas., 214,324. 
 
 Tacitus (quoted), 86. 
 
 Tallyrand, Mot of, 323. 
 
 Taylor, The Rev. Dr. Wm. M., 270, 317. 
 
 Temperance, defined, 90; history of, 90; formation of American 
 Society for the Promotion of. 90; growth of, 91 ; relation of 
 religious principle to, 95; relation of prohibition 10.95,96; 
 high-water days, 133, 134; state of the cause in Great 
 Britain in 1853-4, 161 ; low-water mark in America in 
 1855-65, 172; causes, 172, 173: result of Father Mathew's 
 work in Ireland, 192. 
 
 Temple, Dr., 241. 
 
 Tennessee, Early prohibitory laws of, 90. 
 
 Theater, State of, to-day, 59; letter of Edwin Booth on (quoted), 
 59-60; condition of, in Cough's youth, 61. 
 
 Thompson, Sir Henry, 240. 
 
 Total abstinence. Importance of, to reformed men, 94; to sus- 
 ceptible men, 95-96. 
 
 Vienna. City of, 152. 
 
 Vine, Arabian fable of the, 277. 
 
 Walpole. Horace, 271. 
 
 Washington ianism. Origin of, 91 ; defects of, 91 ; criticisms of 
 
 advocates of, upon Gough, 115-119. 
 Webster. Daniel. 89. 100, 319. 
 Westminster, The Duke of. 240. 
 Whittington club-room, 152.
 
 336 INDEX. 
 
 Wilberforce, Canon, 241. 
 
 Wilberforce, Wm., 29. 
 
 Willard, Miss Frances E.. 108, 267. 
 
 Wilson, Chas., 141. 
 
 Wilson, Wm.. 182. 
 
 Wine, Influence of. on civilization 279, 280. 
 
 Woods. Dr. Leonard. 90. 
 
 Woolley, John G. (quoted) , 273. 
 
 Xenophon (quoted), 86. 
 
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