Born at New Haven, Conn., Oct. 12, 1775; graduated at Yale College in 1797; studied theology under President Dwight; and became in 1810 minister of the Congregational church at Litchfield, Conn. He was a popular preacher, and acquired great influence among the orthodox churches. To oppose the rapid progress of Unitarian doctrines he removed to Boston about 1826, and preached in the Hanover Street church. He was president of Lane Seminary at Cincinnati 1832–51. Here he was brought to a stormy trial for heresy; and, although not condemned by the presbytery, this event was one of the great factors in the separation of the New from the Old School Presbyterians in 1837. He published, beside other works, “Views in Theology” and “Sermons on Temperance,” which had a great circulation. He was a man of very energetic character. Died at Brooklyn, N. Y., Jan. 10, 1863. His works were published in three volumes (Boston, 1852).
Personal
A calm and comprehensive estimate of all his sermons, letters, and actions must convince a candid mind what is true, namely, that if he went into controversy, he went into it because he felt that his business of saving souls was in some way obstructed, and he must remove the obstruction. If he attacked either systems, or institutions, or men with severity, it was because he felt that the eternal interests of immortal souls were at stake.
Friends and children were able and willing to see to it that the brave old veteran of fourscore years should be fully provided for. The Lane arrears were paid up; a house was purchased for him in Brooklyn, close by that of his most famous son; and here, with an annuity sufficient for his wants, he passed the last seven years of his life, ministered to by his children by blood and marriage. Month by month the veil between him and the outward world grew thicker fold by fold. The connection between him and the world grew weaker and weaker. Memory was gone, language was gone—or seemed to be so. Yet now and then were strange flashes which seemed to say that the strong mind was curtained, not blinded. “Dr. Beecher,” said some one to him, “you know a great deal: tell us what is the greatest of all things.” For a moment the curtain seemed to be rent, and he replied, with his old vigor, terseness, and earnestness: “It is not theology, it is not controversy; but it is to save souls.” Then the curtain fell again, and he was lost to human sight behind its folds. For the last year of his life all the organs of communication between him and the world without appeared to fail, except indistinct phrases seemed to indicate that the mental life existed. Still his eye was bright, and his face bore an expression of strength and sweetness. Yet even to the very close there were moments when the veil was for a moment parted.
It is said, that he would return from a funeral and send forth the quickest airs from his fiddle. He was of the most cheerful temperament, as I, who knew him for thirty years, can well testify. Few clergymen—probably none—have been more noted, more able, and I may add more useful than Dr. Beecher. He was then in his prime. It was in Litchfield, the year after I left there, that he delivered his celebrated lectures on temperance. It was a good place to begin work, for Litchfield had several able and distinguished men, who died or lost their influence by intemperance. Dr. Beecher was called the “great gun of Calvinism,” and it seemed to me the very irony of fate to see him tried ten years after by the Presbytery of Cincinnati for heresy in Calvinic Theology…. Dr. Beecher was so far superior to all other preachers of that section, that all the students who went to church at all went to his church. I was always a regular attendant, not losing, I think, more than two or three Sundays while I was there. Dr. Beecher was remarkable for great irregularity in what may be called the quality of his sermons. There was none inferior, but there were times when he was dull. A friend said to me once that he had heard much of Dr. Beecher, and went to hear him, but he never heard a duller sermon. I can realize that might have been, but Dr. Beecher was at times exceedingly eloquent. His spells of eloquence seemed to come on by fits.
Was one of the leading preachers, reformers, and controversialists of his day. Sturdy in body and mind, full of sensibility, aflame with enthusiasm, devoted to the highest aims and utterly unselfish in life, a Christian in whom deep spirituality and strong common sense were happily blended, he was just the man to transmit excellent qualities to his children; a father to be enjoyed while living, and to be remembered with love and reverence after his death.
I had known Dr. Beecher before I left New England as one of the vigorous assailants of Unitarianism, and I had expected to find him uncongenial if not austere; but he proved to be one of the most social and agreeable of men. He spent a number of days at my house, and I became strongly attached to him. I had known him in the pulpit as an earnest, intolerant, and always logical preacher. It did not take me long to discover that out of it he abounded in sympathy, in geniality, in good-will for everybody…. Dr. Beecher had the reputation of being the father of more brains than any other man in the country. As far as I know he merited the reputation. His six sons and four daughters were very unlike in talents and in their leading characteristics; but there was not an ordinary one among them.
He was one of the lights—technically speaking, the “blue-light”—of orthodoxy. He was a powerful preacher to a devoted congregation, and indulged in sectarian denunciation beyond what are generally considered the bounds of good taste…. I believe that Dr. Lyman Beecher was one of the most conscientious preachers among those who adorned the Boston pulpit, but his name cannot be mentioned without recalling the immense stride in liberal theology which has been made between his day and our own.
General
The names of few men among the American clergy now living, have stood out so long in bold relief as that of Lyman Beecher…. As a preacher, Dr. Beecher has possessed uncommon power. When his own emotions were thoroughly aroused, and his thoughts were transfused with the most fervid moral and social emotion, with vigorous tongue, in original phrase, interlaced with short and glancing illustrations, which glowed and ripened into the boldest metaphors, his power was electrical; and the audience was swayed to his sonorous voice, as trees in a forest to the rushing of autumnal winds…. The famous sermons on Intemperance were occasioned by the inebriety of a very dear friend; and were thus born of a full heart. And, although they did not save the man whose case inspired them, they have doubtless saved millions of others, as they initiated a great moral enterprise, and are still read in almost every language of the civilized world.
Notwithstanding all that has been written and published since on this great theme, these sermons [“Temperance Sermons”] yet remain unrivalled.
The Autobiography of the Rev. Dr. Lyman Beecher, edited by his son Charles, awakens vividly our recollection of a venerable man seen not long ago walking the streets of Brooklyn, or rising to speak in the prayer-meetings at Plymouth Church, or sitting an attentive listener in the great congregation; his silvery hair falling low upon his shoulders; his fine appearance half disguising his infirmities…. The present book is something of a novelty in book-making—an autobiography not written by its subject but snatched from his lips at intervals by his questioning family, and penned on the spot; many of the pages standing in the form of question and answer, the interrogator’s name indicated by initials, making altogether an inartistic, loosely-joined, unsatisfactory, yet fascinating record—resembling, in parts, the report of a cross-examination in a law trial.
His writings are not numerous, as compared with those of his still more illustrious descendents, but are marked by great boldness, vigor, and clearness, both of thought and expression, with occasional outbursts of passionate eloquence…. As a thinker, Dr. Beecher was bold to the point of audacity, and it was this feature of his character probably, more than any positive errors, that made him a subject of anxiety to the more conservative class of theologians. He was one of the earliest and most eloquent advocates of the temperance movement.
His name for the years of his Boston residence, and previous to them, was the synonym for Trinitarianism in the pulpit, as Channing’s was for Unitarianism. In preaching, more than in book-making, appeared his force and fire.
