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Christopher Wren (search for this): chapter 30
so much to tell of Michael Angelo, when in the Roman palace Raphael was drawing his figures too small, Angelo sketched a colossal head of fit proportions, and taught Raphael his fault, so Parker criticized these other pulpits, not so much by censure as by creation — by a pulpit, proportioned to the hour, broad as humanity, frank as truth, stern as justice, and loving as Christ. Here is the place to judge him. In St. Paul's Cathedral, the epitaph says, if you would know the genius of Christopher Wren, look around. Do you ask proof how full were the hands, how large the heart, how many-sided the brain of your teacher?--listen, and you will hear it in the glad, triumphant certainty of your enemies that you must close these doors, since his place can never be filled! Do you ask proof of his efficient labor and the good soil into which that seed fell?--gladden your eyes by looking back and seeing for how many months the impulse his vigorous hand gave you has sufficed, spite of boding
Theodore Parkers (search for this): chapter 30
e moment of brightness lighted up the arches of his own Temple, as one whom he loved stepped into his own desk, and with remarkable coincidence, for the only time during his absence, opened one of his own sermons to supply my place; and as his friend read the Beatitudes over his grave on the banks of the Arno, his dearer friend here read from a manuscript the text, Have faith in God. It is said that, in his last hours, in the wandering of that masterly brain, he murmured, There are two Theodore Parkers,--one rests here, dying, but the other lives, and is at work at home. How true! at that very instant, his own words were sinking down into the hearts of those that loved him best, and bidding them, in this, the loneliest hour of their bereavement, Have faith in God. He always came to this platform. He is an old occupant of it. He never made an apology for coming to it. I remember many years ago, going home from the very hall which formerly occupied this place. He had sat where y
Old Lyman Beecher (search for this): chapter 30
treason in Virginia, and hung on an American gibbet; for the child of Puritanism is not mere Calvinism,--it is the loyalty to justice which tramples under foot the wicked laws of its own epoch. So Unitarianism — so far as it has any worth — is not standing in the same pulpit, or muttering the same shibboleth; it is, like Channing, looking into the face of a national sin and, with lips touched like Isaiah's, finding it impossible not to launch at it the thunderbolt of God's rebuke. Old Lyman Beecher said, If you want to find the successor of Saint Paul, seek him where you find the same objections made to a preacher that were made to Saint Paul. Who won the hatred of the merchant-princes of Boston? Whom did State Street call a madman? The fanatic of Federal Street in 1837. Whom, with unerring instinct, did that same herd of merchant-princes hate, with instinctive certainty that, in order that their craft should be safe, they ought to hate him? The Apostle of Music Hall. That
Temple (search for this): chapter 30
s eleven o'clock in the morning. As he sank away the same week, under the fair sky of Italy, he said to the most loving of wives and of nurses, Let me be buried where I fall ; and tenderly, thoughtfully, she selected four o'clock of the same Sunday to mingle his dust with the kindred dust of brave, classic Italy. Four o'clock! The same sun that looked upon the half-dozen mourners that he permitted to follow him to the grave, that same moment of brightness lighted up the arches of his own Temple, as one whom he loved stepped into his own desk, and with remarkable coincidence, for the only time during his absence, opened one of his own sermons to supply my place; and as his friend read the Beatitudes over his grave on the banks of the Arno, his dearer friend here read from a manuscript the text, Have faith in God. It is said that, in his last hours, in the wandering of that masterly brain, he murmured, There are two Theodore Parkers,--one rests here, dying, but the other lives, and
Grant (search for this): chapter 30
soul under yonder steeple, hide-bound in days and forms and beggarly Jewish elements, little dreams how ten times worse and narrower it was before this sun warmed the general atmosphere around. As was said of Burke's unsuccessful impeachment of Warren Hastings, never was the great object of punishment, the prevention of crime, more completely obtained. Hastings was acquitted; but tyranny and injustice were condemned wherever English was spoken, so we may say of Boston and Theodore Parker. Grant that few adopted his extreme theological views, that not many sympathized in his politics, still, that Boston is nobler, purer, braver, more loving, more Christian to-day, is due more to him than to all the pulpits that vex her Sabbath air. He raised the level of sermons intellectually and morally. Other preachers were compelled to grow in manly thought and Christian morals in very self-defence. The droning routine of dead metaphysics or dainty morals was gone. As Christ preached of the
Webster (search for this): chapter 30
Men can confess that they voted against his admission to scientific bodies for his ideas, feeling all the while that his brain could furnish half the academy; and yet, thus ostracized, he was the most generous, more than just, interpreter of the motives of those about him, and looked on while others reaped where he sowed, with most generous joy in their success. Patiently analyzing character, and masterly in marshalling facts, he stamped with generous justice the world's final judgment of Webster, and now that the soreness of battle is over, friend and foe allow it. He was generous of labor,--books never served to excuse him from any, the humblest work. Though hiving wisdom with each studious year, and passionately devoted to his desk, as truly as was said of Milton, The lowliest duties on himself he laid. What drudgery of the street did that scholarly hand ever refuse? Who, so often and so constant as he in the trenches, when a slave case made our city a camp? Loving books,
Victoria (search for this): chapter 30
and what men said of it in the streets of Jerusalem, so Parker rung through our startled city the news of some fresh crime against humanity,--some slave-hunt or wicked court or prostituted official,--till frightened audiences actually took bond of their new clergymen that they should not be tormented before their time! Men say he erred on that great question of our age,--the place due to the Bible. Perhaps so. But William Crafts--one of the bravest men who ever fled from our vulture to Victoria — writes to a friend: When the slave-hunters were on our track, and no other minister, except yourself, came to direct our attention to the God of the oppressed, Mr. Parker came with his wise counsel, and told us where and how to go; gave us money. But that was not all: he gave me a weapon to protect our liberties, and a Bible to guide our souls. I have that Bible now, and shall ever prize it most highly. How direct and frank his style,--just level to the nation's ear. No man ever need
Jewish (search for this): chapter 30
e than from any other from Theodore Parker. He has my love, my respect, my admiration. Yes, his diocese is broader than Massachusetts; his influence extends very far outside these walls. Every pulpit in Boston is freer and more real to-day because of the existence of this. The fan of his example scattered the chaff of a hundred sapless years. Our whole city is fresher to-day because of him. The most sickly and timid soul under yonder steeple, hide-bound in days and forms and beggarly Jewish elements, little dreams how ten times worse and narrower it was before this sun warmed the general atmosphere around. As was said of Burke's unsuccessful impeachment of Warren Hastings, never was the great object of punishment, the prevention of crime, more completely obtained. Hastings was acquitted; but tyranny and injustice were condemned wherever English was spoken, so we may say of Boston and Theodore Parker. Grant that few adopted his extreme theological views, that not many sympath
Unitarian (search for this): chapter 30
ark and without a guide! Out of that tearful mother's arms grew your pulpit. Here in words, every day in the streets by deed — as during a hard life, he repeated and obeyed her counsel. Of that pulpit, its theology, and its treatment by Unitarian divines, manly and Christian lips spoke to us two weeks ago. It is not for me, even if there were need, to touch on it Born in that faith, and nurtured in similar maxims of the utmost liberty and the duty of individual investigation and thoughte for the good, taking the ill thou must; Toil with thy might, with manly labor pray; Living and loving, learn thy God to trust, And he will shed upon thy soul the blessings of the just.' Standing in the old ways, I cannot but suspect these Unitarian pulpits of some latent and cowardly distrust of their own creed, when I see that if one comes from them to our Orthodox ranks, and believes a great deal more than they do, he is treated with reverend respect; but let him go out on the other sid
Vassal (search for this): chapter 30
ainty tournament, a sham fight, forgotten when the smoke clears away. Real books are like Yorktown or Waterloo, whose cannon shook continents at the moment, and echo down the centuries. Through such channels Parker poured his thoughts. And true hearts leaped to his side. No man's brain ever made him warmer friends; no man's heart ever held them firmer. He loved to speak of how many hands he had, in every city, in every land, ready to work for him. With royal serenity he levied on all. Vassal hearts multiplied the great chief's powers. And at home the gentlest and deepest love, saintly, unequalled devotion, made every hour sunny, held off every care, and left him double liberty to work. God comfort that widowed heart! Judge him by his friends. No man suffered anywhere who did not feel sure of his sympathy. In sick chambers, and by the side of suffering humanity, he kept his heart soft and young. No man lifted a hand anywhere for truth and right who did not look on Theodo
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