He and his daughter, now Mrs. Whitridge, were our guests when in New York in 1883, and also at our mountain home in the Alleghanies, so that I saw a great deal, but not enough, of him.  My mother and myself drove him to the hall upon his first public appearance in New York.  Never was there a finer audience gathered.  The lecture was not a success, owing solely to his inability to speak well in public.  He was not heard.  When we returned home his first words were: 

“Well, what have you all to say?  Tell me!  Will I do as a lecturer?”

I was so keenly interested in his success that I did not hesitate to tell him it would never do for him to go on unless he fitted himself for public speaking.  He must get an elocutionist to give him lessons upon two or three points.  I urged this so strongly that he consented to do so.  After we all had our say, he turned to my mother, saying: 

“Now, dear Mrs. Carnegie, they have all given me their opinions, but I wish to know what you have to say about my first night as a lecturer in America.”

“Too ministerial, Mr. Arnold, too ministerial,” was the reply slowly and softly delivered.  And to the last Mr. Arnold would occasionally refer to that, saying he felt it hit the nail on the head.  When he returned to New York from his Western tour, he had so much improved that his voice completely filled the Brooklyn Academy of Music.  He had taken a few lessons from a professor of elocution in Boston, as advised, and all went well thereafter.

He expressed a desire to hear the noted preacher, Mr. Beecher; and we started for Brooklyn one Sunday morning.  Mr. Beecher had been apprized of our coming so that after the services he might remain to meet Mr. Arnold.  When I presented Mr. Arnold he was greeted warmly.  Mr. Beecher expressed his delight at meeting one in the flesh whom he had long known so well in the spirit, and, grasping his hand, he said: 

“There is nothing you have written, Mr. Arnold, which I have not carefully read at least once and a great deal many times, and always with profit, always with profit!”

“Ah, then, I fear, Mr. Beecher,” replied Arnold, “you may have found some references to yourself which would better have been omitted.”

“Oh, no, no, those did me the most good of all,” said the smiling Beecher, and they both laughed.

Mr. Beecher was never at a loss.  After presenting Matthew Arnold to him, I had the pleasure of presenting the daughter of Colonel Ingersoll, saying, as I did so: 

“Mr. Beecher, this is the first time Miss Ingersoll has ever been in a Christian church.”

He held out both hands and grasped hers, and looking straight at her and speaking slowly, said: 

“Well, well, you are the most beautiful heathen I ever saw.”  Those who remember Miss Ingersoll in her youth will not differ greatly with Mr. Beecher.  Then:  “How’s your father, Miss Ingersoll?  I hope he’s well.  Many a time he and I have stood together on the platform, and wasn’t it lucky for me we were on the same side!”