Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1874-03-20
r have had n friend from abroad TO whom !

I have had a friend from abroad to whom
would show special courtesy, / have taken
him or her to that beautiful house by the Ar
lington, and have always been sure Of well
come. Whatever his engagements or his all
ments, if able to see his friends at all, he re-
ceived them with cordial grasp Of the hand
and that rare, sweet smile, which was like
burst of pure Spring sunshine on somDre
day. / was in that house on the morning OF
that sad Wednesday, lingering aud waiting,
with other friends, refusing to believe that
there was emo hope" ! saw there men had
heard called, and half believed to be, hardened
and hearless politicians, weeping like women.
and despite the judgment of his enemies and
de,ractors, | was doubly convinced that the
man had "genius to be loved.
Last evening passed by that house SO soon
to be despoiled of its precious books and art
treasures. 1t was apparently unchanged
lighted up as cheerfully as before he went
away; even the graceful transparepcies in
those pleasant study-windows remained as
they were. The hall door was open, and the
gas slight shone full on the tall, cld-fashioned
clock, which had licked off for him SO many
hours Of faithful toll of weary wakefulness,
of cruel pain, till that last moment of mental
agony, when his great, pure, honest heart
broke.
How plainly that old clock repeats to the
souls who loved the master of the house:
Never here, forever there,
Where all parting pain and care,
And death and time shall disappear:
Forever there, but never herel
The hOr0lOge Of eternity
Sayeth this necessarily,
Forever-never-never, forever
You have had such full descriptions of the
services at the Capitol that you do not need
any from me. The most touching and impress
siye was, after all, the part borne by the col.
ored people. They came in procession to the
Rotunda, where the body lay in state. They
encircled it in almost solid ranks. There is
nothing on earth SO sad as sad black face.
1t is mourning and desolation personifed
Their sorrow was evidently deep and tender,
and well it might be, for they have met with
grievous loss. Mr.. Summers friendship for
the black race, was not matter of sentiment
but of principle. 1t was noble, impersonal
championship. No blunder or folly on their
part could anger him, no pertinacty could
worry him, no seeming ingratitude could allie
nate him. Their champion has fallen, their
tower of strength has given way; henceforth
they must "work out their own salvation, :"
and patiently build up their own defenses
The difficult and grand task is set them to
show themselves worthy of great advocate
The face of Mr.. Sumner in death bore more
than usual resemblance to Edmund Burke.
With his gray hair resting like glory on the
pillow, he looked very noble, but SO tired .
We felt amid our grieving that all was well.
God had given His beloved sleep.
Most OF the floral offerings laid on the great
Senator's coffin were from his colored friends.
They lavished upon him the most rare and
costly flowers. On his desk stood a boquet of
roses aud azaias, white as the "white SOUL
Emerson so honored.
Saddest of all sights was his empty chair,
draped in mourning, and yet an august pres
ence seemed to hover about it. If, indeed,
he were there able to see, and hear, and un-
derstand; if he looked around on the scene Of
many struggles and conflicts, on his enemies
and on his friends, hat poor things must have
seemed to him all human strifes and animos-
tiles how precious human love and loyalty !;
how great and sorrowfnl thing life ; how
beautiful and blessed death,