Writing Dr. Dunn, who had lost valuable property by fire, Mr. Peebles, sealing his promise with a generous donation, says: As flax never begins to be useful till pulled and laid out to die and rot, so I intend to be of more service to you when my old body is rotting in the grave than I possibly can be now. . . . You lost by the fire, not a truth, not a useful fact, nor scientific formula. Your furniture is gone, but not your reputation. This latter is much harder to gain than the former. Your books may have been burned; but so much of their contents as by faithful application you had stored away in your brain remains unharmed. All the disappointments and losses of life teach us the importance of laying up treasures in the intellect and soul. Such are beyond the destroying hand of earthly elements. Such only can serve us when the death-angel knocks, bidding us lay down the pilgrim-staff, and plunge beneath the waves of the rolling Jordan." Again he says, in another letter, intended only for the eye of the recipient: "I wept when reading your letter. It took me back to Battle Creek, where first I met you, and showered upon you my very soul-tenderness. Even the occasional thorns of those times have faded from my remembrance, and only the flowers freshen into sweet remembered realities." A healing physican, of great success, tried to tempt him by proffer of money to travel with him in Europe. The man was gaining at the rate of sixty dollars per day. Mr. Peebles declined. His reasons were given to a bosom friend in a private note: "He certainly performs most wonderful cures; but his sphere is morally repellent. He smokes, drinks, etc. I will sooner go without money than form the alliance. In a few years I shall be where money is of no account. Purity and goodness are the coin of heaven." The Rev. J. O. Barrett was about this time passing through severe trials in the Universalist ministry, and knowing that Mr. Peebles had already passed through similar ones, wrote him for counsel and advice. Here is the kind of consolation he received: "PROVIDENCE, R. I., Oct. 26, 1865. "MY SON JOSEPH,- You ought to be persecuted,— accused of being a wine-bibber and a seducer '; ought to be compelled to wander about in sheepskins and goatskins,' to be I cast into prison,' and then let out to eat grass' like your brother Nebuchadnezzar. Then you would begin to be worth something for the use of God and his angels. . . . "All higher births are through sorrow and suffering. Such is the divine order. Hence my prayer is, 'Mortals, pierce him; angels, give him thorns to tread upon: for feet that bleed are on the way to see the head crowned! Great Father in heaven, hold him tenderly, lovingly, in thy hands; for he is a dear child of thine and brother of mine, just pluming his wings for a flight into the realms of the gods! Amen.' Again he writes, in a letter from Cincinnati, dated Dec. 5, 1886: "Your trials, my dear brother, have truly commenced. You will find God's grace sufficient, and his angels ever, ever present. They never forsake the true soul. You say you have already been sold, betrayed,' by a class of bigoted Universalists. Jesus was betrayed before you. Yes, persecution must come; and I feel just now like preaching a sermon to you from this text in Rev. 1:9: 'I, John, who also am your brother in tribulation, and in the kingdom and patience of Jesus Christ.' "And did not Jesus say to the disciples, 'In the world ye shall have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world'? Which of the prophets have not your fathers persecuted?' asks one of the anciently inspired men. My brother, you must expect all these things. It is God's method. Martyrs' feet have always bled; but oh, the brilliancy of their crowns in heaven! "This life at best, is but the shadow of that more sub stantial life to come. Let us live for the future by being patient, true, brave, and independent in the present.” While lecturing in Detroit the new constitution of the Spiritual Society was sent to the Detroit Tribune for publication, when the editor appended some venomous criticisms to belittle the church, no doubt. Taking these comments into the desk, Mr. Peebles read them and then lashed that editor with a whip of scorpions. His invective was scathing as lightning! Earnest in his righteous wrath, he threw the paper upon the floor, stamped upon it, and shouted home the charge: "Republicans, take the Post! Democrats take the Times!" Then the crowd, electrified, hurrahed with a tremendous enthusiasm. Glancing into a letter addressed by Mr. Peebles to Mr. Wilson, of Harmonia, 1859, we clipped out the following: "By the way, one of the last slanders on the docket is this: I was seen to get off from the cars in Detroit with a woman, and go with her on board the steamer for the Canada side. Horrid! This occurred last summer; it leaked out a while since, and turned out to be my wife on her way to St. Lawrence County. The Presbyterian 'babbler,' when faced about it, confessed that he did not know Mrs. Peebles, but thought it was some strange woman. Surely, if the best fruit is the most clubbed, I am ripe, mellow, fallen, and ready to be eaten. No matter, let us comfort ourselves with the words, Blessed are ye when men shall revile,' etc. How beautiful God's law that sends slander and slandered, the wrongdoer and the wronged, each to his appropriate place. The heavens and the hells await each and all." Whilst in an Eastern city, a Unitarian minister, professionally liberal and radical, careful not to spot his garments by touching against a Spiritualist, reported him as infidel to his domestic responsibilities, and a "brazen free-lover, who did not live with his wife!" Coming from such a source, it had for a time its influence, of course, to forestall his success. Hearing of the lie, and believing that this mincing minister morally needed a lesson to study (having before learned of his cunning to entrap Spiritualists, in Janesville, Wis., by promising a free house to them, as well as others, if they would help build it, and afterwards shut the door in their faces, and then virtually drove them out), he went direct to a distinguished lawyer, who addressed the "divine a letter. The sequel is described by a pure and noble woman, - Mother Whittier, of Fox Lake, Wis., in a communication to The Spiritualist: "All honor to that wise man, J. M. Peebles! While in an Eastern town, about to lecture, one of the present Sanhedrim just as potent as the old Jewish said to individuals, 'Don't go to hear that man; he is licentious, lives with another man's wife,' etc. Brother Peebles just stepped into a lawyer's office, and commenced legal action. The result: a humble acknowledgment in writing which condemned the man as a liar and a slanderer." While professing no perfection, Mr. Peebles wrote at this time: "I defy you, or the world, to find a flaw in my moral character. Consistency I take no account of." During a lecturing month in Rockford, Ill., he and Dr. Dunn boarded at T. M. Clark's, an earnest Spiritualist. The ample dinner included a nice plate of greens. As they gathered around the board, with some invited guests, Mr. Peebles continued his earnest conversation in which he had become deeply absorbed, descanting upon Mohammed's flight to heaven. Passing the plate of greens to Mr. Peebles, Mr. Clark asked very politely: "Have some greens, Brother Peebles?" "Oh yes, thanks I'm very fond of greens;" and gracefully took the plate and set it beside his own, still engaged in animated conversation; and half involuntary adding a little salt and vinegar to the greens, devoured the whole contents of the plate. There was some blushing and embarrassment on the part of Mr. Dunn and the family who sat down to this inviting feast, but no remark was made touching upon the episode. But when these two guests were in their room, Mr. Dunn asked in a bantering sort of a tone," Peebles, how's greens?" "What do you mean? do you mean?" 66 They were excellent — What Why, you acted like a pig, and ate them all up yourself. They were intended for the family." "Charlie, did I do that? Good heavens! What a stupid dunce I am! What shall I do?" The joke was too good to be forgotten, and although Mr. Peebles made a handsome apology to the housewife for his little act of absent-mindedness, "How's greens?" passed into a byword, which he was occasionally compelled to hear for years. Indeed, absent-mindedness was a mood in which Mr. Peebles frequently indulged. One winter's evening at Galva, Ill., he fell into a deep meditation on the theme he was going to lecture on at the hall, pacing the floor as usual on such occasions. When the hour arrived, he hastily put on his overcoat, gloves, and furs, and started with Mr. Dunn at a brisk pace for the hall. When they had passed three or four blocks Mr. Dunn chanced to look up. "Ha, ha, J. M.! Where's your hat?" Surely enough he had neglected to cover his crown, and back he hastened his steps to recover this essential part of a clerical outfit. Returning, he laughingly said, "The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests, but the son of man hath no hat for his head! What's a hat compared to a soul? You are all after hats and gewgaws. The head is not for the hat, but the hat is for the head,' and have we not a right to take it off, or put it on, as we do theology? In the day of judgment' it will not be asked, 'How's your hat?' remember that, my boy!" Lecturing in Sturgis, Mr. Peebles discoursed upon “hell.” In the heat of his eloquence, he exclaimed, "Were I a saint in heaven, and my friends not there, I would look, I would rush down the battlements into hell, lay aside my golden robe, cast my crown at the feet of the Almighty, shock the heirs of glory, leap into the fires of damnation, and seize my doomed |