When Talmage the terrible shouts his "God-speed"
To illit'rate (and worse) immigration,
Who knows but his far-seeing mind feels a need
Of recruits for his mix'd congregation?
And when he, self-made gateman of Heaven, says he's glad
To rake in, on his free invitation,
The fit and the unfit, the good and the bad,
Put it down to his tall-'mag-ination.--_Pan._
My critics were particularly wrought up again on my return from
Palestine over my finances. What a crime it was, they said, for a
minister to be a millionaire! Had I really been one how much more I
could have helped some of them along. Finally the subject became most
wearisome, and I gave out some actual facts. From this data it was
revealed that I was worth about $200,000, considerably short of one
million. In actual cash it was finally declared that I was only worth
$100,000. My house in Brooklyn, which I bought shortly after my
pastorate began there, cost $35,000. I paid $5,000 cash, and obtained
easy terms on a mortgage for the balance. It was worth $60,000 in 1890.
My country residence at East Hampton was estimated to be worth $20,000.
I owned a few lots on the old Coney Island road. My investments of any
surplus funds I had were in 5 per cent. mortgages. I had as much as
$80,000 invested in this way since I had begun these operations in
1882. Most of the mortgages were on private residences. I mention these
facts that there may be no jealous feeling against me among other
millionaires. Because of my reputation for wealth I was sometimes
included among New York's fashionable clergymen. I deny that I was ever
any such thing, and I almost believe such a thing never was, but I find,
in my scrapbook, a contemporaneous list of them.
Dr. Morgan Dix, of Trinity Church, with a salary of $15,000, heads the
list, Dr. Brown of St. Thomas' Church, received the same amount; so did
Dr. Huntington of Grace Church, and Dr. Greer of St. Bartholomew's. The
Bishop of the diocese received no more. Dr. Rainsford of St. George's
Church received $10,000, and like Dr. Greer, possessing a private
fortune, he turned his salary over to the church. The clergymen of the
Methodist Episcopal churches were not so rich. The Bishop of New York
received only $5,000. The pastor of St. Paul's, on Fourth Avenue,
received the same amount, so did the pastor of the Madison Avenue
Church.
The Presbyterian pulpits were filled with some of the ablest preachers
in New York. Dr. John Hall of the Fifth Avenue Church received the
salary of $30,000, Dr. Paxton $10,000, Dr. Parkhurst and Dr. C.C.
Thompson $8,000 respectively. Dr. Robert Collyer of the Park Avenue
Unitarian Church, received $10,000, and Dr. William M. Taylor of the
Broadway Tabernacle the same amount.
I was included among these "men of fashion," much to my surprise. This
fact, forced upon me by contemporary opinion, did not have anything to
do with what happened in the spring of 1891, though it was applied in
that way. My congregation were not told about it until it was too late
to interfere. This I thought wise because there might have been some
opposition to my course. I kept it a secret because it was not a matter
I could discuss with any dignity. Then, too, I realised that it was
going to affect the entire brotherhood of newspaper artists, especially
the cartoonists. I shuddered when I thought of the embarrassment this
act of mine would cause the country editor with only one Talmage woodcut
of many years in his art department. So I did it quietly, without
consultation.
In the spring of 1891 I shaved my whiskers.