In March of 1901 Dr. Talmage inaugurated a series of Twentieth Century Revival Meetings in the Academy of Music, in New York.  It was a great Gospel campaign in which thousands were powerfully impressed for life.  The Doctor seemed to have made a new start in a defined evangelical plan of saving the world.  Indeed, to save was his great watchword, to save sinners, but most of all to save men from becoming sinners.  One of his famous themes—­and thousands remember his burning words—­was “The Three Greatest Things to Do—­Save a Man, Save a Woman, Save a Child.”  There was a certain anxiety in my mind about Dr. Talmage in this sixty-eighth year of his life, and I used to tell him that he had reached the top of all religious obligations as he himself felt them, that there was nothing greater for him to do, and that he might now move with softer measure to the inspired impulses of his life.  But he never delayed, he never tarried, he never waited.  He marched eagerly ahead, as if the milestones of his life stretched many years beyond.

Our social life in Washington was subservient to Dr. Talmage’s reign of preaching.  We never accepted invitations without the privilege of qualifying our acceptance, making them subject to the Doctor’s religious duties.  The privilege was gracefully acknowledged by all our friends.  We were away from Washington, too, a great deal.  In the spring of this year, 1901, the Doctor made a lecturing tour through the South, that was full of oratorical triumphs for him, but no less marked by delightful social incidents.  There was a series of dinners and receptions in his honour that I shall never forget, in those beautiful homes of Mississippi, Alabama, and Tennessee.  Because of his Gospel pilgrimage of many years in these places, Dr. Talmage had grown to be a household god among them.

When winter had shed his garland of snow over nature, or when we were knee deep in summer’s verdure and flowers, East Hampton was the Doctor’s headquarters.  From there we made our summer trips.  It was after a short season at East Hampton in the summer of 1901, that the Doctor went to Ocean Grove, where he delivered a Fourth of July oration, the enormous auditorium being crowded to its utmost capacity.  A few days later we went to Buffalo, where, in a large tent standing in the Exposition ground, Dr. Talmage lectured, his powerful voice triumphing over the fireworks that, from a place near by, went booming up through the heavens.  After a series of Chautauqua lectures through Michigan and Wisconsin, the Doctor finished his course at Lake Port, Maryland, near picturesque Deer Park.  These are merely casual recollections, too brief to serve otherwise than as evidence of Dr. Talmage’s tremendous industry and energy.

In September, 1901, came the assassination of President McKinley.  Dr. Talmage had an engagement to preach at Ocean Grove the day following the disaster.  On our arrival at the West End Hotel, Long Branch, the Doctor went in to register while we remained in the carriage at the door.  Suddenly he came out, and I could see that he was very much agitated.  He had just received the news of the tragedy.