A Biography of Rev. Henry Ward BeecherScoville, Samuel
Religion
A Biography of Rev. Henry Ward Beecher
Scoville, Samuel
Beecher, Henry Ward, 1813-1887
invited all those that are ‘weary and heavy laden’ to come unto Him,
that I should have long since been discouraged, for I do not think that
my instructors do right with me; for although they know that my lessons
are double those of any other boy, still they scold and ridicule me
during recitation, and, what is worse, the principals will at the close
of the week, when the reports are read, read off my reports and all the
remarks which are made of me by the under-instructors, and yet will not
even say (_I_ can say it with my whole heart) that I exert myself all in
my power. And the deficiency is not for want of study. Nevertheless, if
it will do me any good, if it will break down my proud spirit, if it
will make me depend more upon help from above than earthly help, I will
suffer it—yes, rejoice in it.
“I _write_ to you, Harriet, just as I would _speak_ with you; and if it
seems to you that I am childish in feeling thus, I can say perhaps I may
be, but there are feelings which I have long had, and have wished to
relate to some one whom I loved and who could advise me. I have said
little or nothing to any of my schoolmates concerning these things. You
inquired something concerning card-playing, etc. I don’t know what to
think about it. I believe that there are little societies which meet at
certain places for the purpose of playing. It is not among the large
boys only, but among those of ten or twelve years of age, and most all
the boys say ‘they would not _play, because_ it is _forbidden_ by Mr.
Colton; but they don’t _think_ there is _any harm_ in it _any more_ than
there is in playing _chess_.’ Mr. Colton knows that the boys play, and
all that he has found out he has punished in some way or other; but
there are many that he has not found who still continue to play in
secret places, and it is not uncommon to hear little boys of eight or
nine years old swearing most shockingly.
“The bell is ringing and I must begin my studies now. Write _soon_.
Your most affectionate brother,
“HENRY.
“P. S. Will you send me a few questions that will be good for a debating
society? We wish to get the best one we can for a public debate.”
Occasionally in some moment of frolicsome reminiscence he would tell one
of his grandchildren of another kind of experience that belonged to
these days. Bashful as he was and retiring by nature, he was not by any
means proof against the tender passion—in fact, such a nature as his was
just the one that its arrows would reach the earliest, and into which
they would strike deepest.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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