Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1896-10-16
DIR. Parry's Funeral Address.

Ny love for Gov Fuller was so deep. and
my sorrow at his death is so great, as to
greatly embarrass me on this solemn occa-
sion | had for him the affection of a
brother, and the ties that bound me to him
were so close that the public utterance of
my feelings is the exercise Of a privilege
so painful that silence would seem to be
more appropriate than any words of eulo.
gy. Having loved him so when living, and
now generating his memory when dead, it
cannot but be difficult for me to speak of
him without the enthusiasm of affection,
which may lay me open to the criticism of
exaggerating his virtues The sadness of
our heart can but express itself appropri-
ately in the plaintive cry of the Hebrew
king when the chiefs of his people we're
stricken down: "How are the mighty fall
en-"
Widely and intimately as Gov Fuller
was everywhere known, and especially by
those gathered here today, it seems scarce
ly necessary to voice our appreciation Of
his character over his silent form. The
life he lived so grandly is his noblest pane
gyriC. As | look down upon his silent form
l feel the truth of the poets go9ds- '1tffh the
silent organ loudest speaks the masters re-
QUEEN. /An9-yet there seems to be fit
tlhg Pbpriety in brief review Of his life
l-gtdu Character. / do not shrink from words
of praise where praise is so richly deserv-
ed, for such expression is always a strength
ener to virtue, and the opportunity of such
expression becomes an inspiration to the
soul.
1t is said in one of those old legends in
the Hebrew Talmud that at the moment Of
the death of a good man there gather
around him his deeds of charity and kind.
ness transformed into ministering angels,
and the spirits Of those departed who have
been benefited and comforted by his life,
and they bear aloft on luminous wings the
freed spirit TO the very portals of the city
celestial Should the thought of that old
legend be true, we are sure that when the
eyes Of our dear friend were closed 10 the
scenes of this world and the eyes of his
enfranchsed spirit were catching the first
CLEANS Of the light Of that infinite beyond,
the deeds of his good and compassionate life
transformed into ministering angels, and the
spirits of the many whose needs and sorrows
and sufferings he has sought to meet and
alleviate, constituting a shadowy cloud of
witnesses of his benefcent life, bore up
ward his liberated spirit and filled the path
way of light with the music Of the sweet
est anthem ever sung: blessed are the mer-
| ciful for they shall obtain mercy" As there
| rises before us today in panoramic vision
the life of Gov. Fuller, we may recall those
lines of Tennyson, his tribute to Yelling
ton when that great man was borne to his
burial under the golden cross of the vast
cathedral dome that shines over the city
and river. The poet in that sublime ode
exclaims:
IAN is over and done
Render thanks 10 the Giyer, England, for thy
The Iron Duke stood up like a tower of
strength,
-Four square to all the winds that blew"
So it was with our loved friend and honor
ed citizen, Gov. Fuller. Measured by the
standard of friend citizen, employer states
man, husband, Christian. he is found to
have had many sides of greatness and good
ness. And yet he who had won so many
victories in all relations of life, and whose
years as they succeeded each other wit
messed TO an ever larger and an ever widen
ing useful life, has fallen in our midst, il
Illustrating TO us that there is no exemption
from the common destiny of mortals. The
most distinguished in character and the
most useful in life all pass away with the
generation to which they belong. There
is nothing so universally recognized as the
fact Of mans rapid passage from station to
station in his hurried journey to the grave.
We all respond at once to the truth: I'VE
spend our years as a tale that is told"
Hours fly like words, weeks like sentences,
months like chapters, and every life, like a
tale, is quickly told. 1.-The very breath
which forms mans words accelerates his
death" 1--WE die daily" says the apostle
Men talk of dying and die while they are
talking Existence is only a continuous
death.
our birth is nothing but our death begun,
And cradles rock us nearer TO the tomb"
But while all this is so sadly true, we never
grow familiar with death.
l stood the other day on the pier of the
American line of steamers, and watched
the St. Louis as preparations were made
for her sailing. Near me stood a woman
watched them loosen the cables, and the
vessel slowly moved out of the dock. The
woman looked solemnly on as the ship
glided into the stream. Her husband stood
upon the deck waving his handkerchief.
She watched him as the vessel steamed
down into the Narrows. Then a haze
gathered about him, and long before he was
lost 90 her sight he was lost to hearing.
The ship sailed on, and on, and on, until
she was like a speck on the horizon, and
then he was gone. No waving of signals,
no communication could reach him. He
was out ON the trackless sea, and could
hab tplra ,,fl a,,1 Va,nffl ha cbn