“How are you, old fellow, glad to see you!” he said.

The building of the new Tabernacle, my third effort to establish an independent church in Brooklyn, went on rapidly.  We were planning then to open it in September, 1891.  The church building alone was to cost $150,000.  Its architectural beauty was in accord with the elegance of its fashionable neighbourhood on “The Hill,” as that residential part of Brooklyn was always described.

“The Hill” was unique.  When people in Brooklyn became tired of the rush and bustle of life they returned to Clinton Avenue.  It was an idyllic village in the heart of the city.  The front yards were as large as farms.  New Yorkers described this locality as “Sleepy Hollow.”  On this account, during my absence, there had developed in the neighbourhood some opposition to the building of the new Tabernacle there.  Some of the residents were afraid it would disturb the quiet of the neighbourhood.  They opposed it as they would a base ball park, or a circus.  They were afraid the organ would annoy the sparrows.  The opposition went so far that a subscription paper was passed around to induce us to go away.  As much as $15,000 was raised to persuade us.  These objections, however, were confined to a few people, the majority realising the adornment the new church would be to the neighbourhood.  When I returned I found that this opposing sentiment had described us as “the Tabernacle Rabble.”  I was in splendid health and spirits however, and refused to be downcast.

During my absence our pews had been rented, realising $18,000.  The largest portion of these pews were rented by letter, and the balance at a public meeting held in Temple Israel.  The second gallery of the church was free.  The highest price paid in the rental for one pew for a year was $75, the lowest was $20.  In the interval, pending the completion of the church, pew holders were given tickets for reserved seats in the Academy of Music, where our Sunday services were held.  There were 1,500 free seats in the second gallery of the new Tabernacle.

It was a great joy to find that the enterprise I had inaugurated before sailing for the Holy Land had made such good progress.  But we were always fortunate.

I recall that my congregation was surprised one morning to learn that Emma Abbott, the beautiful American singer, had left a bequest of $5,000 to the Brooklyn Tabernacle.  I was not surprised.  I had received a private note from her once expressing her kindly feeling toward our Church and promising, in the event of her decease, to leave some remembrance to us.  She always had a presentiment that her life was to be short, and this always had a very depressing effect upon her.  Her grief for her husband’s death hastened her own.  She loved him with all her heart.  She was a good woman.  Mr. Beecher was a kind and loyal friend to her in her obscurer days.  In those days Mr. Beecher brought her over from New York and put her in care of a Mrs. Bird in Brooklyn.  Until she went abroad she was helped in her musical education by these friends.  She attended Mr. Beecher’s prayer meetings regularly.  Everyone who met her felt that she was a noble-hearted woman of pure character and sweet soul.