THE CRADLE OF THE MODERN NAVY. 25 



"From the time he first entered business as a boy he had the faculty of putting 

 himself in the place of the man he was dealing with. He possessed the rare gift 

 of intuition. He could understand the mentality and point of view of the other man. 

 He was a just man, therefore, because he never considered his personal interests 

 alone without considering the other man's interests at the same time, even if he 

 were the humblest man in his employ. He did as he would be done by in each in- 

 stance or he tried to, at all events, as much as one busy man can with as large a 

 force of employees as he had, and the men knew that he was honest and fair. They 

 also knew that he was a kind, loving man. The testimony never will be gathered 

 here, never written in any book, but it lies deep in the hearts of his men, so that some- 

 where in this great universe it is all stored up, his great kindness to his men, his 

 sympathy for them in sorrow or affliction at home, to those who were in financial dis- 

 tress or any other trouble. He had a heart that could feel for men who were weighed 

 down by sin, yes, and by crime, and he knew how to mingle mercy with justice; and 

 that is the reason the DeLamater Iron Works were not burned up in the riots of 

 1863. 



"He was not demonstrative, but he was positive, and when he said a thing he 

 meant it. He was a broad-minded man. Ardent, capable and successful; a lover 

 of literature, of art, capable of various lines of abstruse thought, and a student of 

 philosophy. He was a devout worshipper at the shrine of nature. At his beautiful 

 summer home. Beacon Farm, of some 1,250 acres near Northport, Long Island, he 

 had some of the finest blooded cattle in America. 



"Let me tell you an occurrence that happened to me there about ten or twelve 

 years ago. He took me with him one evening down to his home and a party of us 

 went out sailing on the bay. After awhile the wind fell with the setting sun, and 

 a little steamer came out to take us ashore and then he proposed that we, he and 

 L as the night was going to be fine and as there was to be a moon, should stay in the 

 sailboat and drift in with the tide. Those of you who appreciate a full moon at 

 sea will understand the beauty of the situation as the night drew on. The moon rose 

 higher and higher in the sky and drew the tide up farther and farther in the bays. 

 Silently, noiselessly, every little crevice, creek and indentation was filled. The tide 

 rose, without a sound or ripple, and took the boat in which we sat, by almost imper- 

 ceptible degrees, towards the land. This was a matter of three or four hours, and we 

 had been busy talking of the future and of what would be the hereafter, and then 

 came one of those periods when a man wishes to be silent and to think things over. 

 We were silent perhaps for an hour, drifting in, little by little. There was the moon 

 in the heaven ; here were the waters ; here was the land ; here was the little boat ; here 

 were we. Finally his deep voice broke the silence : 'Mr. Pullman,' said he, 'what is 

 your strongest proof of the existence of God ?' I said, 'My own existence. I can- 

 not account for myself, nor for you, nor for any of us with our wonderful organism 

 and the equally wonderful world about us, all fitted together in one infinitely great 

 machine working harmoniously from the infinite past through all eternity. Look 

 at it,' said I; 'we have been sitting here 10 or 12 feet apart for an hour, as much 



