Anti-slavery bugle. [volume] (New-Lisbon, Ohio) 1845-1861, 1860-06-16
THEODORE PARKER.

Last week one of our Dailies brought us a beau
tiful tribute to the mental power and attachments
Of Theodore Parker by Wendell Phillips, which
We Immediately transferred to our columns. In
the same speech was the following testimonial to
his moral worth. Each is a gem which will bear
q separate setting.
when some Americans die-when most Amer
leans dio-their friends tire the public with ex-
cuses. They confess this spot, they explain that
stain, they plead circumstances as the half justif-
cation Of that mistake, and they beg Us to remem-
Der that nothing but good is to be spoken Of the
dead. We need no such mantle for that green
grave under the sky Of Florence. No excuses
no explanations-n no spot. Priestly malice has
scanned every inch OF his garments; it was Deem
less; it could find no stain, History, as in the
case of evesy other of her beloved children, gath
ers into her bosom the arrows which malice had
shot at him, and says to ~posterity, Behold the
title deeds to your gratitude (Applouse,) We
ask no moment to excuse, there is nothing to OK,
plain. What the s%norling journals thought bold.
what the selfish politician feared as his ruin-lt
was Gods seal set upon his apostleship. The
little libe! glanced across him like therocket when
it goes over the vault; it is gone, aud the royal
sun shines out b~enifcent as ever. (Applause.)
"When | returned from New York, on the
Twelfth day Of this month, [ was to have been hon
ored by standing in his desk, but illness prevented
my fulfilling the appointment. 1t was eleven
o'clock ia 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, "les me be
buried where | fall" and with tender and thought
full duty, she selected four O'Clock of that same
Sunday to put all that was left of his dust into
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 thu
grave, that same moment of brightness lighted ny
the arches Of his own Temple, as one whom hi
loved stepped into his own desk, and with remar
kable coincidence, for the only time during hi
absence, opened one of his own sermons to sup
ply my place; and as his friend read the Beati
tHdes over his grave on the banks of the Arno, hi
dearer friend here read from his own handwriting
the text, "TRUsT GoD." 1t is said that in hi
last hours. in tho wandering of that masterl,
brain, he murmured there are two Theodor
Parkers; one rests here, dying, but the other live
and is at work at home" How true at that yer,
moment, he was speaking to his usual thousands
at that very instant his own words were floating
over the hearts of those that loved him best, AM
bidding them, in this, the loneliest hour of thei
bereavement, "Trust God"
Lord Bacon said in his will, 81 leave my nam
and memory TO foreign lands, and to my owl
rsOuntrymen, after some time be past" No NOR
fitting words could he have chosen, if the modest
Of the friend who had just gone before us woult
have permitted him to adopt them for himself
To-day, even within twenty -four hours, l hav
seen symptoms of that repentance which johnson
describes:
in nations slowly wise and meanly just,
To buried merit raise the tardy DUST"