He values the substance of man more than his accidents.

“We say a man is ‘made.’  What do we mean?  That he has got the control of his lower instincts, so that they are only fuel to his higher feelings, giving force to his nature?  That his affections are like vines, sending out on all sides blossoms and clustering fruits?  That his tastes are so cultivated, that all beautiful things speak to him, and bring him their delights?  That his understanding is opened, so that he walks through every hall of knowledge, and gathers its treasures?  That his moral feelings are so developed and quickened, that he holds sweet commerce with Heaven?  Oh, no!—­none of these things!  He is cold and dead in heart and mind and soul.  Only his passions are alive; but—­he is worth five hundred thousand dollars!

“And we say a man is ‘ruined.’  Are his wife and children dead?  Oh, no!  Have they had a quarrel, and are they separated from him?  Oh, no!  Has he lost his reputation through crime?  No.  Is his reason gone?  Oh, no! it’s as sound as ever.  Is he struck through with disease?  No.  He has lost his property, and he is ruined.  The man ruined?  When shall we learn that ’a man’s life consisteth not in the abundance of the things he possesseth’”?

Mr. Beecher’s God has the gentle and philanthropic qualities of Jesus of Nazareth, with omnipotence added.  Religious emotion comes out in his prayers, sermons, and lectures, as the vegetative power of the earth in the manifold plants and flowers of spring.

“The sun does not shine for a few trees and flowers, but for the wide world’s joy.  The lonely pine on the mountain-top waves its sombre boughs, and cries, ‘Thou art my sun!’ And the little meadow-violet lifts its cup of blue, and whispers with its perfumed breath, ’Thou art my sun!’ And the grain in a thousand fields rustles in the wind, and makes answer, ‘Thou art my sun!’

“So God sits effulgent in heaven, not for a favored few, but for the universe of life; and there is no creature so poor or low, than he may not look up with childlike confidence and say, ’My Father! thou art mine!’”

“When once the filial feeling is breathed into the heart, the soul cannot be terrified by augustness, or justice, or any form of Divine grandeur; for then, to such a one, all the attributes of God are but so many arms stretched abroad through the universe, to gather and to press to his bosom those whom he loves.  The greater he is, the gladder are we, so that he be our Father still.

“But, if one consciously turns away from God, or fears him, the nobler and grander the representation be, the more terrible is his conception of the Divine Adversary that frowns upon him.  The God whom love beholds rises upon the horizon like mountains which carry summer up their sides to the very top; but that sternly just God whom sinners fear stands cold against the sky, like Mont Blanc; and from his icy sides the soul, quickly sliding, plunges headlong down to unrecalled destruction.”