“The call signed by the elders, deacons, trustees, and members of the congregation of the First Presbyterian Church of Washington is before me.  The statement contained in that call that you ’do earnestly, unanimously, harmoniously and heartily, not one voice dissenting,’ desire me to become co-pastor in your great and historical church has distinctly impressed me.  With the same heartiness I now declare my acceptance of the call.  All of my energies of body, mind, and soul shall be enlisted in your Christian service.  I will preach my first sermon Sabbath evening, October 27.”

Washington was always a beautiful city to me, the climate in winter is delightful.  President Cleveland was a personal friend, as were many of the public men, and I regarded my call to Washington as a national opportunity.  It had been my custom in the past, when I was very tired from overwork, to visit Washington for two or three days, stopping at one of the hotels, to get a thorough rest.  For a long time I was really undecided what to do, I had so many invitations to take up my home and life work in different cities.  While preaching was to be the main work for the rest of my life, my arrangements were so understood by my church in Washington that I could continue my lecture engagements.

I delivered a farewell sermon before leaving for Washington, at the Lafayette Avenue Presbyterian Church, in Brooklyn, before an audience of five thousand people.  My text was 2 Samuel xii. 23:  “I shall go to Him.”

I still recall the occasion as one of deep feeling—­a difficult hour of self-control.  I could not stop the flow of tears that came with the closing paragraph.  The words are merely the outward sign of my inner feelings: 

“Farewell, dear friends.  I could wish that in this last interview I might find you all the sons and daughters of the Mighty.  Why not cross the line this hour, out of the world into the kingdom of God?  I have lived in peace with all of you.  There is not among all the hundreds of thousands of people of this city one person with whom I could not shake hands heartily and wish him all the happiness for this world and the next.  If I have wronged anyone let him appear at the close of this service, and I will ask his forgiveness before I go.  Will it not be glorious to meet again in our Father’s house, where the word goodbye shall never be spoken?  How much we shall then have to talk over of earthly vicissitudes!  Farewell!  A hearty, loving, hopeful, Christian farewell!”

[Illustration:  The first Presbyterian church of Washington Dr. Talmage’s last charge.]

I was installed in the First Presbyterian Church in Washington on October 23, 1895.  My first sermon in the new pulpit in Washington was preached to a crowded church, with an overflow of over three thousand persons in the street outside.  The text of my sermon was, “All Heaven is looking on.”