Dr. Talmage’s personal mail was thought to be the largest of any man in the country, outside of some of the public officers.  Thousands, men and women, appealed to him for advice in spiritual things, revealing to him intimate family affairs, laying their hearts bare before him as before a trusted physician of the soul.  I have seen him moved to the depths of his nature by some of these white missives bearing news of conversion to faith in Christ wrought by his sermons; of families rent asunder united through his words of love and broadmindedness; of mothers whose broken hearts he had healed by leading back the prodigal son; of prisoners whose hope in life and trust in a loving Father had been awakened by a casual reading of some of his comforting paragraphs.

The life of Dr. Talmage was by no means the luxurious one of the man of wealth and ease it was sometimes represented to be.  He could not endure that men should have this aspect of him.  He was a plain man in his tastes and his habits; the impression that he was ambitious for wealth, I know, was a false one.  I do not believe he ever knew the value of money.  The possession of it gave him little gratification except for its use in helping to carry on the great work he had in hand; and, indeed, he never knew how little or how much he had.  He never would own horses lest he should give people reason to accuse him of being arrogantly rich.  We drove a great deal, but he always insisted on hiring his carriages.  If he accepted remuneration for his brain and heart labour, Scripture tells us, “The labourer is worthy of his hire.”  He was foremost in helping in any time of public calamity, not only in our own country but more than once in foreign lands.  And when volumes of his sermons were pirated over the country, and he was urged to take legal steps to stop the injustice, he said:  “Let them alone; the sermons will go farther and do more good.”

Dr. Talmage’s opinions were sought eagerly, and upon all subjects of social, political, or international interest.  He was a student of men, and kept ever in close touch with the progress of events.  A voluminous and rapid reader, he was quick to grasp the aim and significance of what he read and apply it to his purpose.  His library in Washington contained a large and valuable collection of classics, ancient and modern; and his East Hampton library was almost a duplicate of this.  He never travelled very far without a trunkful of books.  I remember, in the first year of our marriage, his interest in some books I had brought from my home that were new to him.  Many of them he had not had time to read, so, in the evenings, I used to read them aloud to him.  Tolstoi’s works were his first choice; together we read a life of the great Russian, which the Doctor enjoyed immensely.