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in the House, emptied the Senate, and when he was a senator and rose to speak, emptied the House, so completely had the memory and tradition of Tristam Burges faded from men's minds. The brilliant genius, the biting sarcasm, the eloquent speech had not sufficed to preserve him from oblivion. But there was no doubt about the other man. Whoever walks the streets of Providence to-day, whoever shall walk them for generations to come, will recognize Francis Wayland as a living and abiding presence. It is so everywhere. Brilliancy of intellect, even commanding genius, cannot keep men alive. Moral power alone abides. Our ancestors sleep under the sod; the men who came in that bitter winter and made the settlement of Plymouth that they might "keep their names and nation" and "give their children such an education as they themselves had received;" the men who followed in their steps and settled here in Boston and the adjoining territory; the men who struggled and wrought for good government and pure morals in the Colony and Province of Massachusetts; the great men, represented in their descendants at this table to-day, who put the quality and stamp. of their peerless characters into the Constitu

tion and civil order of this Commonwealth, and whose names are an inspiration to youth and a guide to the people, and will be to the end of time,—are all of them mouldering in their graves. Yet they are still alive, and never were they so potent in their activity as now. They walk abroad; they speak with. the living voice; we see them as we could not see them in the flesh, and they make to us and to all men an irresistible appeal.

Some men we know were impatient with what they called the extreme views and action of Charles Sumner. Not long before he died I spent a few weeks in Washington. While sitting in the gallery of the Senate I saw that whenever he rose to urge his Civil Rights Bill, Senators in their impatience would spring from their seats, wheel round and rush into the cloak-rooms, leaving him to make his speech almost alone to the President of the Senate. He seemed to be regarded with something akin to hatred. At least, men could not conceal their indignation; some even treated him with contempt when he tried to address them from the high moral plane of his convictions concerning freedom and equality. In a short time he died, with the words "Take care of my Civil Rights Bill" trem

bling on his lips. Then what a change took place! Around his open grave men forgot their animosities; every bitter epithet was recalled; the tumult of controversy was hushed; strife and hatred vanished away; the tenderest and most beautiful tributes to his memory were from those who had been his life-long enemies. And the Civil Rights Bill; what of that? The formal thing which bore that name dropped into "inocuous desuetude." But the "living creature" that animated it, the spirit that called it forth, was taken up instantly into the conscience and heart alike of America and of the whole civilized world. To-day it is no longer a question whether the negro shall have civil rights. Civil rights are accorded to all men, without distinction of race or color, by virtue of their manhood.

a man.

It is a great thing, a rare privilege, to have been the contemporaries and followers of such A far greater privilege it must have been for our friend to have walked by his side, enjoyed his friendship, shared his counsels, received his confidence, won his affection, gathered up and put together the materials which will make both for the great Senator himself and his biographer an imperishable

memorial. I congratulate Mr. Pierce on his noble achievement. I rejoice for the memory of Sumner, that the mighty part which he performed in the most important epoch of the Republic has had so just and faithful and loving a chronicler.

ADDRESS

AT THE MEMORIAL SERVICE TO DR. A. A. MINER, IN THE COLUMBUS AVE. CHURCH, NOV. 10, 1895

We are here to-night to indulge in affectionate and grateful reminiscence of a man who had more sides to his character and exerted a wider and more varied influence than almost any man who has lived in Boston during the latter half of the nineteenth century. To say that a man is great in a particular line to which he has devoted the larger part of his time and on which he has laid the emphasis of his life, and that he has maintained his preeminence in that line throughout, is praise enough. We do not expect a preacher to be a financier, any more than we look for high literary gifts and attainments in one who may be a very potent factor in the financial circles of a great city. But Dr. Miner was great in more than a single department of effort. He was a great preacher, holding a foremost place in his Boston pulpit for more than forty years; and he was very nearly an ideal pastor. But he was also an orator almost without a peer among the great public speak

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