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A MEMORIAL 
 
 OF 
 
 PHILLIPS BROOKS 
 
 FROM THE 
 
 CITY OF BOSTON 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 PRINTED BY ORDER OF THE CITY COUNCIL 
 
 1 89 3 
 
CITY OF BOSTON. 
 
 In Common Council, April 27, 1893. 
 
 Ordered, That the Clerk of Committees, under the direction of the Com- 
 mittee on Printing, be authorized to prepare and publish a memorial volume 
 containing an account of the services in Music Hall, April 11, 1893, com- 
 memorating the life and character of the late Phillips Brooks, together with 
 the eulogy prepared by Samuel Eliot, LL.D. ; that fifteen hundred copies 
 of said volume be printed, and that each member of the City Council be 
 furnished with ten copies ; the expense attending the same to be charged to 
 the appropriation for City Council, Incidental Expenses. 
 
 Passed. 
 
 Sent up for concurrence. 
 
 In Boaud of Aldermen, May 1, 1893. 
 Concurred. 
 
 Approved by the Mayor, May 4, 1893. 
 A true copy. 
 
 Attest : 
 
 J. M. GALVIN, 
 
 Ciiy Clerk. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 DEATH OF PHILLIPS BROOKS . . 9 
 
 ACTION OF CITY COUNCIL . 13 
 
 MEMORIAL SERVICES ... 13 
 
 EULOGY BY DR. SAMUEL ELIOT . . 25 
 
 FINAL PROCEEDINGS 57 
 
DEATH OF PHILLIPS BROOKS 
 
DEATH OF PHILLIPS BROOKS. 
 
 The death of Phillips Brooks took place at his residence 
 on Clarendon street, Boston, Monday, the twenty-third day 
 of January, 1893, at half-i)ast six o'clock, A.M. 
 
 Dr. Brooks had been ill since the previous Thursday, 
 although the trouble appeared to be nothing more than a 
 severe case of sore throat, and there were no alarming 
 symptoms manifested until late Sunday night. The case 
 then assumed a diphtheritic character, and soon after three 
 o'clock Monday morning he became delirious and was 
 attacked with a slight spasm. He immediately afterwards 
 began to grow ^veaker, and his death occurred at half-past 
 six o'clock, as above stated. 
 
ACTION OF THE CITY COUNCIL 
 
ACTION OF THE CITY COUNCIL. 
 
 In recognition of the sad event, and that the City 
 Council might join in the universal tril)ute of love and 
 remembrance to the memory of Phillips Bkooks, an 
 order \vas introduced in the Common Council January 26, 
 by Councilman William E. JNIansfield, of Ward 14, 
 for the appointment of a committee to arrange for a 
 eulogy and approiniate memorial services. The order was 
 passed by a unanimous vote in both branches, and approved 
 by His Honor the Mayor. 
 
 MEMORIAL SERVICES. 
 
 The Committee of Arrangements entered upon their duties 
 without delay. They selected Dr. Samuel Eliot to prei)are 
 the eulogy ; a man who on account of his literary attain- 
 ments and lifelong friendship with Bisho}) Brooks was 
 eminently fitted for the task. It was decided to hold the 
 services on Tuesday evening, the eleventh of April, and 
 Music Hall was engaged for the purpose. Rev. M. J. 
 Savage was invited to write a poem for the occasion. In- 
 vitations were sent by the committee to His Excellency the 
 Governor and His Honor the Lieutenant-Governor, the Ju- 
 diciary, the Trinity Church parish, the Boston Episcopal 
 Church Association, the Episcopalian Club, past mayors of 
 Boston, the press, the City Council, and heads of city 
 departments. 
 
14 PHILLIPS BKUDKS MEMOIilAL. 
 
 The only atten)])t at decorating the hall was by the in- 
 troduction of plants and flowers, «'liich were tastefully 
 arranged in front and on tiie two sides of the platform. 
 
 Shortly after eight o'clock, Aldemian Alpheus Santord 
 called the asseml>ly to order, and introduced Alderman 
 Charles W. IIallstraji, chairman of the committee, as 
 the presiding ofBcer of the evening, in the absence of His 
 Honor jMayor ^Matthews. 
 
 Alderman Hallstram stepped forward and said : 
 
 REMARKS BY ALDERMAX HALLSTRAJL 
 
 Ladies and Gextlemex: It is not unusual for 
 the city of Boston to honor by memorial services 
 her departed sons who have distinguished themselves 
 in the halls of state, or in the defence of their 
 country; but I think it is unprecedented for her to 
 so honor one of her departed sons who has, as it 
 might be termed, only occupied a semi-public posi- 
 tion. But in so honoring the memory of Bishop 
 Brooks the city of Boston does well. 
 
 The Committee of Arrangements have not intended 
 that the services shall pai-take of a mournful charac- 
 ter, for we know, with Christian hope and faith, 
 that he has entered that life where there is no 
 death, and that, although he may not return to us, 
 we can follow him. 
 
 The traveller, setting his face toward a foreign 
 land, anticipates the pleasure which he is to enjoy; 
 but with Avhat ecstacy, when his journey is complete 
 and he sets his face toward the land of his birth. 
 
MEMORIAL SERVICES. 15 
 
 he exclaims, "I am going liome!"^ May we, too, 
 my friends, when our journey in tliis life is ended 
 — may we too, with that peace and resignation, 
 exclaim, " I am going home ! " 
 
 The exercises ))egan with the anthem " Calvary," l)}^ 
 Rodney, sung by Mr. Joseph L. A\''iriTE and the Herljert 
 Johnson Quintette Club. 
 
 Rev. Joshua P. Bonnsir then offered prayer as follows : 
 
 PRAYER BY REV. .JOSHUA P. BOUFISH. 
 
 Let US pray. O eternal Father of our Lord Jesus 
 Christ, Creator of all things visible and invisil^le, 
 source of all our good, infinitely good in Thyself, 
 and infinitely gracious, bountiful, and good to us, 
 behold ! we, Thy poor servants, the work of Thy 
 hands, redeemed by the blood of Thine only son, 
 come to present ourselves as humble petitioners 
 before the throne of Thy mercy. 
 
 We pray Thee, O Almighty and Eternal God, 
 who through Jesus Christ hast revealed Thy glory 
 to all nations, to preserve the works of Thy mercy, 
 that Thy church, being spread through the whole 
 world, may continue with unchanging faith in the 
 heaven of Thy name. 
 
 We pray Thee, O God of might, wisdom, and 
 justice, through whom authority is rightly adminis- 
 tered, laws are enacted and judgment decreed, assist 
 with Thy holy spirit of counsel and fortitude the 
 
 ' Bishop Brooks' last words. 
 
16 PHILLIPS BROOKS MEMORIAL. 
 
 President of these United States, that his adminis- 
 tration may be conducted in righteousness, and be 
 eminently useful to Thy people over whom he pre- 
 sides, by encouraging due respect for virtue and 
 religion, by a faithful execution of the laws in 
 justice and mercy, and by restraining vice and 
 immorality. 
 
 Let the light of Thy Divine wisdom direct the 
 deliberations of Congress, and shine forth in all the 
 proceedings and laws formed for our rule and gov- 
 ernment, so that they may tend to the preservation 
 of peace, the promotion of national happiness, the 
 increase of industry, sobriety, and useful knowledge, 
 and may perpetuate to us the blessings of equal 
 liberty. 
 
 We pray for His Excellency the Governor of 
 this State, for the members of assembly, for His 
 Honor the Mayor, and the members of our city 
 government, for all judges, magistrates, and other 
 officers, who are appointed to guard our political 
 welfare, that they may be enabled by Thy powerful 
 direction to discharge the duties of their respective 
 stations with honesty and ability. 
 
 We recommend likewise to Thy unbounded mercy 
 all our brethren and fellow-citizens throughout the 
 United States, that they may be blessed in the 
 knowledge and sanctified in the observance of Thy 
 most holy law, that they may be preserved in union 
 and in that peace which the world cannot give, and, 
 after enjoying the blessings of this life, be admitted 
 to those which are eternal. 
 
MEMORIAL SERVICES. 17 
 
 O Father of Light and God of all truth, purge 
 the Avhole world from all errors, abuses, corruptions, 
 and vices; beat down the standard of Satan, and 
 set up everywhere the standard of Christ; abolish 
 the reign of sin and establish the kingdom of grace 
 in all hearts; let humility triumph over pride, love 
 and charity over hatred, enmity, and malice, j^i^'ity 
 and temperance over lust and excess, meekness over 
 passion, and disinterestedness and unselfishness over 
 covetousness and the love of this perishable world. 
 Let the gospel of Christ, both in its belief and 
 jiractice, prevail throughout the world. 
 
 O Almighty God, who knowest the weakness and 
 frailty of our nature, we beseech Thee to give unto 
 us Thy servants, whom thou hast stricken Avith this 
 sorrow, such measure of Thy grace as shall enable 
 us to bear it with humility, resignation, and submis- 
 sion to thy Divine will. Grant that no impatient 
 murmuring or rejoining may find a place in our 
 hearts, that we may not sorrow as those who have 
 no hope. Let not our grief exceed the bounds of 
 reason and religion, but so temper it, we beseech 
 Thee, with the consolations of Thy holy spirit, that 
 whatever we may want in outward consolation we 
 may find in the inward rest of perfect submission 
 to Thy holy will and unshaken trust in Thy loving 
 mercy. 
 
 O Almighty God, judge of the living and the 
 dead, so fit and prepare us, we beseech Thee, by 
 Thy grace, for that last account which we must 
 one day give, that when the time of oui- appointed 
 
18 PHILLIPS BROOKS MEMORIAL. 
 
 change shall come we may look up to Thee with 
 joy and comfort, and may at last be received, to- 
 gether with those whom thou hast now taken from 
 us, and with all who are near and dear to us, into 
 that place of rest and peace where Thou shalt 
 Thyself wipe away all tears from all eyes, and 
 where all our troubles and sorrows shall have an 
 end, through the merits, and for the sake of Jesus 
 Christ our blessed Saviour and Redeemer. Amen. 
 
 After the prayer, Mr. White sang the song "Cross and 
 Crown," by Dana. Then followed the poem written for the 
 occasion and read by Rev. Minot J. Savage. 
 
 POEM. 
 
 THE SONG OF A MAX. 
 
 In the swirl of the fire-mist of undated ages 
 God was in the energies teeming to birth, 
 
 Till the rings globed to planets, and chaotic rages 
 
 Were tempered to form, and outshone the green earth. 
 
 Then born of sea-ooze, from the jungle aspiring. 
 Life swam, crept, flew, leapt as unfolded the plan. 
 
 Till upright on his feet, and his eyes heaven-deshing, 
 His cry grown to voice, earth was crowned with a man! 
 
 Then, on through the slow savage ages, um-esting, 
 God-spurred to he know not what wonderful goal, 
 
 Through blood and through tears his high birthright attesting, 
 3Ian climbed from the beast t<j brain, heart, and a soul ! 
 
MEMORIAL SERVICES. 19 
 
 As all he could dream of diviue was enfolded 
 
 In the wonderful self that his skill sought to scau, 
 
 So the rites of his mystic religion he moulded 
 To the worship of God in the guise of a man. 
 
 We dream of the future, with yearning eyes peering 
 
 Along up the pathway of twous untrod, 
 And still we but know, as the goal we are nearing, 
 
 The kingdom of man is the kingdom of God. 
 
 The crown of the world, of religious, of races. 
 Of all that gives effort's achievement its zest. 
 
 Is but truth and but love shining out of the faces 
 Of men all sublime to their noblest and best. 
 
 So what wonder, O Boston, if all our hearts sought him? 
 
 The travail of earth and religion's high plan 
 And the struggle of civilization have wrought him — 
 
 For man is life's triumph, and he is a man ! 
 
 It is thus that he touched us, the high and the lowly ; 
 
 He called us to manhood as being divine ; 
 He taught that life's most common duties were holy. 
 
 That the dew-drop and star with the same lustre shine. 
 
 So, over all fences of creed do I greet thee. 
 Thou fellow of all noble souls that have wrought 
 
 In all ages and nations, that now as they meet thee, 
 Will give thee the welcome thy service has bought. 
 
 For no, thou'rt not dead, and the world has not lost thee ; 
 
 Thou walkest our streets still, although thou dost tread 
 The paths where the noble ones gone may accost thee — 
 
 A double life thine, whom we speak of as dead ! 
 
20 rillLLIPS BROOKS MEMORIAL. 
 
 O city he honored, how now will ye praise him? 
 
 To what he aspired let the city aspire ! 
 Will ye out of hard stones a cold monument raise him 
 
 Whose heart was so soft and his spirit all fire? 
 
 Yes, mould of the bronze his grand stature, great features, 
 And then, by the church that he loved, let him raise 
 
 The voice, heard though silent, for all of God's creatures, 
 Till the years grow decrepit and Boston decays. 
 
 But, make honest your markets, j^our politics purer. 
 Sick souls and sick bodies go comfort and heal ; 
 
 Go make simple justice 'twixt man and man surer ; 
 Go thrill to high honor the whole commonweal ! 
 
 Go make Massachusetts the handsel, the earnest 
 Of all earth has striven for since time began ; 
 
 His life and his teachings thou'lt know when thou leamest 
 A man's truest monument must be a man ! 
 
 After the reading of the poem the Quintette Club and 
 Mr. "White sang the hymn, " Lead, Kindly Light," with 
 beautiful cflFect, and the sweet strains of the familiar hj'mn 
 were rendered peculiarly touching from the fact that it was 
 a special favorite of Bishop Brooks. 
 
 The eulogy was next in order upon the programme, and 
 at this point the audience were subjected to a certain 
 amount of disappointment on account of Dr. Eliot's in- 
 ability to be present, owing to illness which had confined 
 him to the house. His position, however, so far as the 
 delivering of the eulogj'^ was concerned, was ably and ac- 
 ceptably filled l)y Col. Charles R. Codman, whom Dr. 
 Eliot had selected to read the eulogy in his stead. 
 
MEMORIAL SERVICES. 21 
 
 Colonel ConMAN avms announced by the chairman, as 
 follows : 
 
 Ladies and Gentlemen: It is with regret the 
 committee are obhged to announce that, owing to 
 the sickness of Dr. Samuel Eliot, he is unable to 
 be present to deliver the eulogy which he has pre- 
 pared. But we consider ourselves singularly for- 
 tunate in having so good a substitute as Col. 
 Charles R. Codman to read the eulogy, and that 
 gentleman I now have the pleasure of introducing 
 to you. 
 
 Colonel CoDMAN then said : 
 
 Before reading to you, my fellow-citizens, the 
 eulogy written by my friend Dr. Eliot, I ask your 
 indulgence for the position in which I am placed, 
 in being obliged to do that which he would have 
 done so much better himself. 
 
 The eulogy was a loving and faithful tribute of praise 
 from one friend to another ; it was listened to by the 
 audience ^vith reverent and subdued attention, the simple 
 and unaffected manner of the reader being in full accord 
 with the solemnity of the occasion. 
 
 After the reading of the eulogy the hymn, "I'm a 
 Pilgrim," was sung by the Quintette Club and Mr. 
 White. 
 
 The benediction was then pronounced by Rev. J. P. 
 BoDFiSH, and the audience dispersed. 
 
THE EULOGY 
 
THE EULOGY. 
 
 A EULOGY is in outline the work of its subject. 
 His life is its framework; his spirit its inspiration. 
 We are commemorating no financial magnate, no mili- 
 tary chief, no political leader, no literary celebrity, 
 but a religious teacher. He embodied the higher 
 things of thought and action, and it is of higher 
 things that we are to think while we think of him. 
 Not abstract principles, but living and breathing men, 
 form our most animating ideals. In them what has 
 seemed unreal becomes so real as almost to cease 
 to seem ideal, at least while they remain with us. 
 But when the idealizing touch of death transfigures 
 them, then they soar to their own loftier sphere, the 
 pure azure of humanity. 
 
 A Scotch minister who met Phillips Brooks in 
 London expressed surprise at his not wearing a more 
 clerical garb, but he said that on the street, or at 
 home, he was simply a citizen. He was more; we 
 all know it; he was a consecrated citizen. One of 
 his published sermons is on " The Christian City." 
 While allowing that Christianity is a personal force 
 acting on individuals, and only through them on or- 
 ganizations, he insists that organizations, for the very 
 reason that they are combinations of individuals, and 
 
26 PHILLIPS BROOKS MEJIOEIAL. 
 
 that cities, as well as any others, are susceptible of a 
 Christian name and a Christian purpose. It is not 
 a declaration to command immediate assent. A legion 
 of contradictory facts at once starts up to gainsay 
 it. If we take for granted all that is repeated, nowa- 
 days, about the stains which darken city administra- 
 tion and city life; if we see only the homes which 
 fail to be sanctuaries for the mother and the little 
 child; only the schools which fail to treat integrity 
 and truth as the guardian angels of their children; 
 only the offices and the markets where honor is 
 shattered as a meaningless idol; only the charities 
 which harm instead of helping those they profess to 
 serve; only the churches which set themselves in 
 battle array, and arm their people with weapons un- 
 fit even for heathen use, — of course we shall find 
 nothing to justify the epithet of Christian. But this 
 is only one side, darker indeed, but not larger than 
 any other. Its opposite has a broader as well as a 
 brighter area. It holds a greater number, it exer- 
 cises a much greater influence, and, however fre- 
 quently overshadowed, its light prevails in the . long 
 run. JSTot to believe that the good among us is 
 stronger than the evil, is not to be a follower of 
 such a leader as Phillips Brooks. 
 
 He was not a visionai-y. He lived in the very 
 thick of a city population. He observed all its in- 
 firmities, all its hindrances from without and within, 
 as few men do. It was no dream of a recluse, no 
 sentimental fancy of a divine in his closet, that filled 
 his mind and his heart. He knew his fellow-beings 
 
THE EULOGY. 27 
 
 were made to live in light; he knew that purity and 
 happiness were in their nature, that a destiny tit foi- 
 God's children was within their reach. So he bid 
 them be of good cheer for their city. He would 
 not have accidental difficulties, great and pressing 
 though they are, seem to be greater or more press- 
 ing than the essential means of deliverance, the in- 
 herent instincts and longings of man, the stars above 
 that fight for us, the 
 
 " One Divine Event, 
 To wliicli tlie whole creation moves." 
 
 He calls us still to leave the lower for the higher 
 ground, to climb the mountain whei-e no limit to 
 aspiration or achievement can be descried, save that 
 of the very most exalted and most exalting conditions 
 of humanity. The spectres always foreboding disaster 
 will then be put to flight, and in their places fair 
 forms will show themselves winged with anticipa- 
 tions of triumph. Upon the sky into which we 
 gaze, upon its very clouds, the possible glory to 
 come will be written in Ijlazing lines, and " at that 
 time," as the Hebrew prophet declared, " they shall 
 call Jerusalem the throne of tlie Lord." 
 
 Phillips Brooks not only thought of Boston, but 
 trusted in Boston as able to be Christian if it would 
 only consent to be. Dearly did he love this birth- 
 place of his. "I wish," he wrote to England, "I 
 could show jon Boston. ... It is a city of 
 which we native-born Bostonians are proverbially 
 
28 PHILLIPS BKOOKS MEMORIAL. 
 
 proud. The vest of the world thinks that we are 
 conceited about our city, and we are not disposed to 
 deny the charge; only we think that our conceit is 
 justified abundantly by the fact that it is so much 
 better than other cities ; . . . we love to think 
 that it is the home of new ideas." 
 
 He was greatly blessed in his home, in his par- 
 ents, and in those before them from whom he de- 
 scended. He was happy in his schools, the old 
 Adams School in Mason street, and after that the 
 Public Latin School. It was a pleasure not only 
 in boyhood, but in later years, to have had the 
 familiar relations of a schoolmate with boys whom 
 he could have met but seldom out of school. He 
 felt the power of the public schools, not so much 
 in their technical functions, as in educating their 
 pupils, according to his expression, in " the thought 
 of law, and obedience, the sense of mingled 
 love and fear, which is the true citizen's true 
 emotion to his city." When he spoke as the 
 orator at the celebration of the two hundred and 
 fiftieth anniversary of the Latin School foundation, 
 he emphasized his desire that every Boston boy 
 might be at one time or another a pupil of a pub- 
 lic school, " recognized by his community as one of 
 her children," and recognizing her in return with 
 " tenderness, pride, and gratitude." So he felt, doubt- 
 less, as a boy, and the feeling was never lost. 
 That it was not, and that the tone of his school 
 oration was as kindly and appreciative as has just 
 been indicated, are signs of a temper not to be 
 
THE EULOGY. 29 
 
 passed by unnoticed. For the Latin School became, 
 after his graduation at Harvard College, the scene 
 of his only conspicuous failure. He obtained an 
 appointment as usher in the school, and failing to 
 show the power which the j^^i^cipal considered in- 
 dispensable in the under-masters, his resignation was 
 demanded. He showed his deeper nature at once 
 in consenting to remain at his post until his suc- 
 cessor could take it, and then in addressing him- 
 self to preparation for the calling to which he had 
 already proposed to dedicate his life. The principal 
 was not encouraging. He said he knew of no one 
 who failed in school-teaching succeeding in anything 
 else, which proved how little he knew of men in 
 general, or this one man in particular. It is at all 
 events significant that the young man did not lose 
 a particle of his confidence in the public schools, or 
 in what they could do for the city and its citizens. 
 
 It is hardly worth while to say that Phillips 
 Brooks' hopes for Boston did not rest on its 
 schools alone. Other means of training for old as 
 well as young, other sources of help and guidance 
 to all sorts and conditions of men, were abundant 
 around him. 
 
 The past of Boston deepened his assurance con- 
 cerning its present and its future. He turned back 
 with affectionate veneration to the great names which 
 lit up the foundation and the later growth of the 
 place, and from which, consciously or unconsciously, 
 all after-comers have derived much of their power 
 to bear an honorable part in its history. He in- 
 
30 PHILLIPS BROOKS MEMORIAL. 
 
 herited many of their greater qualities, their faith, 
 their energy _, their endurance, but not their narrower 
 traits, their severity, or the hmitations for which 
 their times rather than their natures were responsi- 
 ble. Little imagination is needed to conceive of 
 their still looking down on the land they loved and 
 labored for, and rejoicing that their work should 
 have fallen into hands like his. 
 
 One reason for trusting in his city was his trust 
 in his country. As a part of that, if that were 
 strong and true, the city must share its strength 
 and truth. Our country was his delight. He could 
 not but lament the stains upon it, but it had its 
 wider unstained regions, and when the darkest blot 
 upon it, against which he had long contended, was 
 removed, his joy knew no bounds. Throughout the 
 war he was a tower of strength in Philadelphia, 
 where he was then settled, one day shouldering his 
 shovel to labor on a redoubt; another, interrupting 
 his church-service to announce the good news from 
 Gettysburg, and always leading and fortifying the 
 loyal sentiment of the great city. The war over, 
 he came to the Harvard Commemoration, and lifted 
 the whole assemblage to the Divine Presence as he 
 poured out his thanksgiving and theirs for the 
 lives that had been given to the nation. Every- 
 where the true American, everywhere clinging to 
 American principles and American ways, so far as 
 they deserved, — he was nowhere more an American 
 than in foreign lands. Who that heard or read it, 
 can forget the burning conclusion of his sermon on 
 
TJIK EULOGY. 31 
 
 a Fourth of July in Westminster Abbey? "In our 
 modern thought," he said, " the nation is the mak- 
 ing-place of men. ... I may not ask your 
 praise for anything admirable which the United 
 States has been or done. But on my country's 
 birthday, I may ask you for your prayer in her 
 behalf, ... on all that the life of my country 
 must mean for humanity, I may ask you to pray 
 that the blessing of God .... may rest for- 
 ever." 
 
 For humanity ! Yes, it was what the life of the 
 American nation signified for humanity that raised 
 it to its highest realms. " We are all," he said in 
 the same sermon, "more than Englishmen and more 
 than Americans : we are all men, children of God, 
 waiting for the full coming of our Father's King- 
 dom." Far beyond England, as beyond America, 
 stretches the vast dwelling-place of man, and no 
 region was too distant for the sympathies of this 
 broad heart to ti-averse. This eulogy is written 
 without any direct allusion to the church in which 
 our brother ministered, or to the work in which it 
 engages. But just at this point it is inevitable 
 that some special mention of foreign missions 
 should be made as the one vital test, in his 
 thought, of our Christianity. If you do not see, he 
 would say, that you hold your faith as a trust for 
 those who never heard of it, and that your honor 
 is involved in making it known to them, your love 
 of it must be very lukewarm. It was not the 
 enthusiasm, so called, but the religion of humanity, 
 
32 PHILLIPS BROOKS MEMORIAL. 
 
 which inspired him, and which marks the difference 
 between the assurance he felt in the capacities and 
 the opportunities of our race, and the flashing, uj)- 
 rising and down-sinking impressions which often 
 pass for more than they really are. 
 
 These were all circles spreading one bej'ond an- 
 other on the surface, yet all concentric in one 
 clear, definite idea of service. " l^o man," he once 
 preached, " has come to true greatness who has not 
 felt in some degree that his life belongs to his 
 race, and that what God gives him. He gives him 
 for mankind." An Englishman who knew him, and 
 who knew him all the better because he knows our 
 country well, speaks of his " eagerness to be 
 helpful." It is a fitting expression, for if ever a 
 man was eager to help others, it was he. He was 
 eager, too, that others should help others still, that 
 the movement which might begin with him should 
 spread beyond him, until all mankind should enter 
 upon that service which is its crown. ISTor is it 
 service of a commonplace sort. " This school," he 
 once said at the IS^orth Bennet Street Industrial 
 School, " is to teach not how to make a living, but 
 how to live." It was to lift every one up from his 
 lower to his higher needs, to show him not merely 
 what he knew he needed, but what he did not 
 know he needed, and thus to serve him in ways 
 he could not desire, for they were above his 
 knowledge. 
 
 The special function of service adopted by Phillips 
 Brooks was preaching. " What are you ? " he was 
 
Til K KULDGY. 33 
 
 once asked ; " what do you call yourself ? " " I am a 
 preacher," was his reply. It would be a very narrow 
 interpretation of the word, as he used it, if we were 
 to suppose it meant nothing more than standing in 
 the pulpit and reading or delivering a sermon. lie 
 thought, as he has told us, that the preacher is a 
 messenger from God to man, that he is a witness 
 to religion as a whole, and a teacher of its prin- 
 ciples in detail. " Its highest joy," he said of 
 preaching, " is in the great ambition that is set 
 before it, — the glorifying of the Lord, and the saving 
 of the souls of men." To follow after these ends 
 was the delight, as well as the duty, of his min- 
 istry. He preached not only in his own church, 
 but in other churches, in Harvard College Chapel, 
 in Faneuil Hall, in all sorts of halls and chambers, 
 in theatres, in every spot where any were awaiting 
 a divine message. In the only convention address 
 he made as Bishop, he spoke of the question often 
 raised concerning the possible field in any place for 
 one of his own churches. " The I'cal question," he 
 declared, " ought to be whether there are human 
 creatures in that town. We are sent to the human 
 race." Wherever men were, there were souls; wher- 
 ever souls were, there was a call, sacred and exultant, 
 for him and for his brethren. On the death of Dean 
 Stanley, of Westminster, a near friend to our departed 
 brother, no words about him seemed more significant 
 than these, that he had made the poor to feel at 
 home in the Abbey. jSTor can anything more appre- 
 ciative of Phillips Brooks be said to-day, than that 
 
34: PHILLIPS BROOKS MEJIORIAL. 
 
 he made not the poor only, but all men, to feel at 
 home in the world-wide temple of Christianity. 
 
 Its range beyond this earthly life was his chosen 
 theme. He sometimes said he had no patience 
 with those who spoke of another life, as if we lived 
 wholly different lives, — one on this side, and one on 
 the other side of the grave. It might be said of him 
 with greater truth than it could have been of Cole- 
 ridge by Charles Lamb, that " he had a hunger for 
 eternity." For lie would anticipate eternity, so to 
 speak, he would bring it into time, and make it 
 dominant, so that all which holds back our nature 
 from flowering here might drop away, or be made 
 to minister to its earthly perfection. This was his 
 message of messages, his service of services, that he 
 knit the life of earth with the life of heaven. Dante, 
 wandering among the shades, and meeting the master 
 who had taught him how man becomes eternal, come 
 Vuom s''eterna, gives him grateful greeting ; but Dante's 
 gratitude towards one who had not left an unclouded 
 name is no measure of our gratitude towards this 
 master who lived the eternal life he preached. It 
 is an uplifting fact that the last sei'mou he is 
 supposed to have prepared was on Christ and the 
 Eternal Life, and that among the few Avords he wrote 
 down are these : " There is no life but the eternal." 
 
 Such were the lines on which his course was laid. 
 Like a fair, broad, and above all deepening river, it 
 rolled on toward the sea. To measure it intelligently 
 we must now turn back from its wider reaches, and 
 seek the sjirings from which its overflowing volume 
 
THE KULOGY. 35 
 
 came. Can we discover them ? We have to ask, 
 What were the traits, what the characteristic forces, 
 which shaped his career and made it memorable ? 
 For this, chiefly, are we here. A¥ere it praise alone 
 we had to offer, the offering would be made at a 
 distance, and on a depressingly lower level. But if 
 we can understand as well as praise, we rise higher 
 ourselves, and come nearer to him. 
 
 First, and most striking, indeed summing up all 
 that may be said in detail, was his individuality. 
 Not that merely, as in many other instances, which 
 appeared on the outside. Though lofty in stature, 
 marked in manner and feature, with a deej^ly search- 
 ing yet winning eye, a bearing all his own, draw- 
 ing attention from every side as he walked the 
 streets, with head thrown back, and a rapid motion 
 which his towering figure rendered all the more re- 
 markable, he was not nearly so much or so exclu- 
 sively himself to outward vision, as he was to the 
 mental sight which looked within. So wonderful a 
 harmony between simplicity and depth, between what 
 one might think himself capable of understanding on 
 the instant, and what one was checked in trying to 
 understand after comparatively long fellowship, has 
 seldom been known to those who knew him. How 
 easily we persuaded ourselves we knew him in the 
 first moments of our acquaintance, and yet how hard 
 it became to think we comprehended him entirely, years 
 after our earlier intercourse. As Wordsworth wrote 
 of Milton, 
 
 Thy soul was like a star, and dwelt apart. 
 
36 PHILLIPS BROOKS MEMORIAL. 
 
 Were we to force ourselves into his confidence, he 
 woiikl baffle us without apparent effort; indeed, we 
 should have baffled ourselves without waiting for his 
 resistance. By which it is not, and cannot be, meant 
 that he was on his defence against those who ap- 
 proached too nearly, but merely that the recesses of 
 a nature like his were not penetrable by every one 
 who tried to enter them. He was too complicatel}^ 
 or too richly, constituted to be open to the gaze of 
 chance observers, and they must have often fallen 
 back bewildered. 
 
 " The great man," says Emerson, and it is not in 
 contradiction to Phillips Brooks' definition already 
 given, while quite apposite to the individuality we 
 are attempting to describe, — " the great man is he 
 who, in the midst of the crowd, keeps with perfect 
 sweetness the serenity of solitude." That he of 
 whom we are now speaking should have kept the 
 serenity of solitude, was not in the least inconsistent 
 with his service to society. On the contrary, he could 
 not have served those around him as he did, but for 
 the command of his resources which solitude, or shall 
 we say self-possession, gave him. He insists, in his 
 "Lectures on Preaching," on the paramount impor- 
 tance of personality. " Suppose," he says, " Truth 
 written in the sky, suppose it embodied in a book 
 which has been so long held in reserve as the di- 
 rect utterance of God that the vivid personality of the 
 men who wrote its pages has well nigh faded out 
 of it;" and then he declares, there can be no 
 preaching. " Truth must come really through the 
 
THE EULOGY. 37 
 
 person, — through his character, his affections, his 
 whole intellectual and moral being. Tt must come 
 genuinely through him." 
 
 We may well be grateful that our preacher's per- 
 sonality was one through which truth could come, 
 without the refraction of a hair's breadth. He was 
 himself, and no other man. His powers and his 
 weaknesses — for he must have had them — were his 
 own. lie never stood for himself, he never asserted 
 himself, for his sake ; but, on the other hand, he 
 never abandoned himself. It might be difficult to 
 know him through and through; it might seem, and 
 it did seem, and it actually was, that he towered 
 above us on our average gi-ound; yet one could not 
 but rejoice that he was what he was, and that there 
 was no possibility of fusing him into any common 
 mass, but that he kept his own character, and put 
 forth his own power, and served the truth as no 
 other man of his generation in this community could 
 have done. 
 
 Apart in nature, he was never apart in sympathy. 
 We go back again to Wordsworth: 
 
 " So didst thou travel on life's common waj', 
 In cheerful godliness ; and yet thy heart 
 The lowliest duties on herself did lay." 
 
 Many a tribute to him has brought out his sym- 
 pathetic labors for the sick, the suffering, and the 
 poor. But deeper yet, in all the elements of kind- 
 ness and devotion, was his sympathy with the doubts 
 
60 PHTLLTFS r,ROOKS MEMORIAL. 
 
 and the errors of such as did not account themselves 
 objects of compassion. Thoughts of mercy and acts 
 of mercy towards those who supposed they wanted 
 neither, were the most vivid proofs of his readiness; 
 and not that only, but of his power to enter into 
 other men's necessities. To give to those who ask is 
 almost a matter of course, if we think that what they 
 ask will do them good, for they tell us what they 
 think they need, and we have only to sit in judgment 
 upon it. But to give to such as ask not, involves 
 a search into their wants, and a faculty of convinc- 
 ing them that the wants they do not acknowledge, 
 or have not yet acknowledged, are real, and are 
 to be met, if possible. This was the sympathy 
 of Phillips Brooks, or one side of it, — the side 
 towards those who claimed, or needed, it from him. 
 There was another side on which it showed itself, — 
 in seeking or welcoming the sympathy of others. 
 lie loved human intercourse individually and collec- 
 tively, and the intercourse of spirits above all. He 
 enjoyed a friend by himself; he enjoyed a crowd, 
 not of friends merely, but of strangers, as well as 
 friends. There was an inflow, a strong impression 
 upon him from the throngs whom he confronted as 
 preacher, and in their presence came an inspiration 
 that would not have come to him alone. " I think," 
 he said, " there are few inspirations, few tonics for 
 a minister's life better than ... to go and preach 
 to a congregation in which he does not know a face. 
 As he stands up, and looks across them before he 
 begins his sermon, it is like looking the race in the 
 
THE EULOGY. 39 
 
 face." Many kindred passages bear witness to the 
 same disposition to take from others something, at 
 least, of what he gave to them. 
 
 His sympathy was the fount from which flowed 
 forth his liberaHty. For that great virtue his name 
 has become a synonym. But how much misundei"- 
 stood it is, how much therefore he has been. Is a 
 man liberal because indifferent? Is another man 
 liberal because of his vanity, in other words, because 
 he thinks he has a monopoly of truth, and looks 
 down upon all who differ from him as demanding 
 pity as well as tolerance? One may doubt whether 
 either is really liberal, for both are wanting in what 
 is an absolutely essential element in true liberality; 
 namely, love. Love for brother-man dwells on points 
 of agreement, delights in every well-grounded per- 
 suasion that his deepest convictions are veiy like, if 
 not identical with, our own, and entreats him to 
 stand by us, as well as promises to stand by him, 
 for the heart of the truth in which we are unques- 
 tionably one. Opinions differ, they must differ, and 
 there is no cause for regret that they do diffei', 
 provided, onl}^, that the most uncertain, the most 
 challengeable of them, may be considered " the step- 
 ping-stones to higher things." If they will but 
 confess, as all opinions are bound to do, that they 
 are not final, they need excite no resentment even 
 among the opinions most opposed to them. Our 
 preacher reveals to us the liberality made up of 
 perfect steadiness in one's own convictions, and per- 
 fect openness towards the convictions of others; not 
 
40 I'll ILL! PS BROOKS MEMORIAL. 
 
 to accept theiii unless they can be proved true, not 
 to execrate them if false, but to be patient with 
 them, nay, more, to be respectful of them, as the 
 measure of faith vouchsafed to those who hold them. 
 Carelessness towards them, as far as they might be 
 wrong, was no ingredient in this position. On the 
 contrary, he was all sensitiveness. He often ex- 
 pressed himself in the strongest language against 
 those whom he thought to be in error. How ear- 
 nestly, how passionately, he desired that men might 
 be saved from the mistakes into which it was quite 
 needless that they should fall. What a waste of 
 mind and heart might be avoided, if they would but 
 reason a little more, indeed, if they would but rest 
 a little more, and without a struggle let in the in- 
 fluence always seeking a way into them. Why, he 
 might have asked himself, should I be called on to 
 be liberal to others, if they would but be liberal to 
 themselves ? 
 
 AVhat they needed, what every human being needs, 
 is as the tone of his teaching perpetually asserts, a 
 larger conception of truth. As long as men think 
 that its half-formed outlines drawn by this school 
 or that, or by this individual or that, are the full, 
 magnificent stature of truth, so long they will be 
 indifferent or defiant toward it, so long they will 
 wrangle with one another about its actual nature. 
 
 Phillips Brooks was liberal because he believed in 
 truth as a whole, rather than as a mosaic of frag- 
 ments. Its vastness, its capacity of indefinite appre- 
 hension, its constant growth as studied fi-om bud to 
 
THE EULOGY. 41 
 
 blossom, and from blossom to fruit, its elasticity, its 
 vitality, were its charm to him. " Not by the jios- 
 session of truth," wrote a great author of the last 
 century, " but by the search after it, are our powers 
 enlarged. If God should hold enclosed in His right 
 hand all truth, and in His left only the ever-active 
 impulse after it, I would humbly turn to the left, 
 and say, ' Father, give me this. Pure Truth is for 
 Thee alone.' " These words fit in exactly with our 
 friend's desires. 'No one-sided truth of which he 
 might have become the possessor could satisfy him. 
 ISTo completely rounded truth, as he thought, was 
 within his grasp; nor would he have had it so, could 
 his will have made it so. He never imagined him- 
 self as having reached the end he saw before him, 
 and always before him. If actually reached and then 
 almost necessarily left behind, or else barricading 
 any farther advance, the aspiration it once kindled 
 would die down, and life would grow very cold. 
 JSTo; we speak of attaining truth, but we mean a 
 part of it; of new truths, but they are merely new 
 gleams of truth, the ti'uth which is older and vaster 
 than the universe. "The eternal years of God are 
 hers," and she does not change ; but our views ol 
 her are perpetually changing, loftier to-day, feebler 
 to-morrow, as we draw nearer to her, or farther from 
 her, according to the spirit in which we seek her. 
 Some men ai-e hasty for truth; some men play 
 with truth as a child tears to pieces a doll to see 
 how it is made; but neither they, nor others like 
 them, can be called truth-seekers. Far other was 
 
42 PHILLIPS BROOKS :\[EMORIAL. 
 
 the spirit of this man, not a seeker only, not a lover 
 only, but a worshipper. To him the truth was a 
 Power, a Being, to be adored, and they who would 
 press into it were as strongly to be resisted as they 
 who would dethrone it. 
 
 Of course, therefore, he rejoiced in the clearer as- 
 pects of truth with Avhich our time is blessed. Sim- 
 plicity is inseparable from truth itself, but the ways in 
 which many men have been wont to regard it are 
 often puzzling to the last degree. They seem to have 
 thought that the more intricate their problems were, 
 the more majestic was the doctrine within them. 
 Problems there must be where mystery is, and mys- 
 tery of a divine origin must exist in every spiritual 
 religion. But mysteries of human origin are uncalled 
 for, and when accumulated they are anything but 
 helpful or venerable. It is as if a tree of fair 
 shape and stately height were set upon by over- 
 zealous lovers of its beauty, as if strange growths 
 were grafted on it, and strange methods were adopted 
 of digging beneath it. The time comes inevitably 
 when all that is exotic will be shaken off, and then 
 appears the distinction between such as rejoice to 
 see it free, and such as are eager to reattach the 
 broken boughs or fallen leaves. The old man's figure 
 of old age is suggestive. " I used," he said, " to 
 look out upon that line of trees, and they were so 
 thick in foliage that I could see nothing beyond j 
 but now that autumn has thinned it, I see the stars 
 as I never could before." 
 
 In all this simplification of truth there was no 
 
THE EULOGY. 43 
 
 trace of dwarfing or impoverishing it, or of encour- 
 aging men to believe less instead of more. It was 
 to enrich their faith, to glorify religion, that a teacher 
 like ours would clear it of all impediments. l^o 
 burdens wei*e more burdensome or more inexcusable 
 in his sight than those laid on a human spirit seek- 
 ing after its God. He would away with every one 
 of them that could be removed. Just as the visible 
 world is becoming more intelligible through modern 
 research, just as all our relations are becoming more 
 transparent through science and literature, economy 
 and jurisprudence, so the unseen world and our heri- 
 tage in it are groAving more transj^arent through the 
 intellectual and spiritual inquiries of our age. What a 
 grateful change to one like Phillips Brooks, not for 
 his own sake alone, but yet more for that of his 
 people, to whom as to himself the unteachable would 
 have been a martyrdom. This swinging of the world 
 into a brighter light is an epoch to all mankind. He 
 was very fond of praising the nineteenth centuiy, — 
 the century of illumination, the century of relief, 
 the glory of all the centuries. Partly, no doubt, in 
 its enterprise, its discoveries, its material and im- 
 material advances in every direction, but chiefly, if 
 we do not mistake him, in the nearer apjjroach of 
 man to God, the purer ideas of the Divine I^ature, 
 the happier convictions of its relations to humanity. 
 With all this present power in the century, there 
 was a power yet to come. A mother wrote asking 
 him to baptize her little boy, and he wrote back, 
 
44 PHILLIPS BROOKS MEMORIAL. 
 
 " What a glorious future before a child born at the 
 close of our century ! " 
 
 Into these movements he could not have entered 
 as he did without unusual independence of char- 
 acter. Indeed this was the one fault found with 
 him by those to whom much greater convention- 
 ality in his sayings and doings appeared desirable. 
 Probably some of his freer expressions were unpre- 
 meditated or altogether unintentional. They broke 
 from him in the swift succession of his thoughts as 
 one crowded upon another in his rapid utterance. 
 But the habitual tone of his mind was bold be- 
 cause it was original, and they who expected from 
 it only what was conformable to their own or 
 other common opinions were necessarily and fre- 
 quently disappointed. For his opinions he had his 
 reasons, and they were forthcoming whenever he 
 thought fit to produce them ; but when he did not 
 think fit, one might as well bid Pulpit Rock ex- 
 plain itself as to look for explanations from him. 
 One of the most signal manifestations of this spirit, 
 perhaps the very most signal of all, was in the in- 
 terval between his election to the Massachusetts 
 bishopric and his confirmation by other dioceses. 
 He said he wished he was as sure of his accept- 
 ance hereafter as of his confirmation here ; but the 
 crowning grace of his position was in the fact that 
 he would far rather never have been confirmed, or 
 become a bishop, than open his lips anew to gain 
 a single champion. " I have spoken freely," he 
 
THE EULOGY. 45 
 
 declared, " and every one may know what I think 
 and am." 
 
 It was easier for him to take sucli a stand than 
 for most men, because he was blessed with a hope- 
 fulness of which most of us have but a compara- 
 tively scanty share. No trait of his was more 
 conspicuous. iN^o single source of his power over 
 his generation was more abundant or more effective. 
 Whatever the foreground might harbor in shadows, 
 he looked beyond into the distance and saw it ra- 
 diant. That phrase of the Revised Version, " Do 
 good, never despairing," might have been suggested 
 by hiiTQ to the revisers. It was exactly expressive 
 of the law under which he placed himself all 
 through his ministry. How he helped others to be 
 hopeful also, how many shackles he thus loosed 
 from the heavy-laden, how he thus encouraged his 
 people to work their way forward to a future filled 
 with promise, is a familiar story. His hopefulness 
 gave him his strong hold upon young men. To 
 them, always looking before, and not behind, he 
 stood beckoning, and the fire caught from him 
 spread through them, and out from them. Neither 
 they, nor any others, may have known all the 
 hope that was in him ; indeed he may not have 
 known it all himself. It often seemed as if be 
 were hoping for brighter days and holier lives than 
 are consistent with human imperfections. 
 
 His hopefulness was the more remarkable in that 
 it led not to pride, but to humility. Men engaged 
 in large schemes, with large issues on which they 
 
46 PHILLIPS BROOKS MEMORIAL. 
 
 confidently count, are often arrogant, or seem to 
 be. He never was, and never seemed so. Even 
 his success, which set a seal on his hopefulness, 
 did not disturb the quiet flow of his thoughts 
 about his work or about himself. His joy was 
 in his work rather than in his success in it. " In 
 every high work," he said himself, " and in men 
 worthy of it, success is always sure to bring hu- 
 mility." They tell of a great preacher in Paris, 
 who filled ]S^otre-Dame with crowds intent on hear- 
 ing him, and was found bathed in tears upon his 
 knees. " Why, father," said the young monk enter- 
 ing his cell, "what distresses you?" — "The temp- 
 tation of success," was the substance of the reply. 
 Success had no temptation for our great preacher. 
 He was once in a gathering of friends, and one of 
 them said, " I heard your sermon on Humility last 
 Sunday, and walking from church, saw your father 
 and mother before me. So quickening my step, I 
 caught up with them, and said to your father, ' It 
 must be hard for you to win humility, for you 
 cannot but be proud of your son.' " We waited, 
 doubting what such a stroke would bring out, but 
 there Avas no occasion for doubt. " To think," was 
 the smiling reply, " of your trying to spoil my 
 poor, dear father." 
 
 The Englishman already quoted speaks of " the 
 complete and childlike self-forgetfulness " of our 
 friend. It was a very marked feature of his, and 
 one that resisted, like a clifi" on the coast, the 
 perpetual breaking of waves upon it. You might 
 
THE EULOGY. 47 
 
 praise him, but your praise merely droj)ped on him 
 and then off him, as if he had not heard you 
 speak. The hne of the old English poet recurs 
 to memory : 
 
 " A grain of glory mixed witli lunnbleuess," 
 
 — a grain only of the one, enough of the other to 
 make it seem the whole. 
 
 These gifts and graces, as we have tried to an- 
 alyze them, were all set forth in his preaching. 
 Through this, largely, he made himself known; 
 through this he shone out upon the world around 
 him. There is no need of dAvelling on the fervor 
 of his discourse, or the transcendent force with 
 which he impressed himself on all his hearers. It 
 has been told, over and over again, how unpar- 
 alleled his power as a preacher was ; how men lis- 
 tened to him as to no one else ; how he swayed 
 their hearts as the hearts of one man ; how the 
 throngs flocking to hear him never went away dis- 
 appointed, but, enthusiastic for him, enthusiastic, also, 
 for the faith and the life which he preached. The 
 secret of his eloquence is not in his thought, elevated 
 though that was ; not in his style, clear, flowing, 
 imaginative, beautiful as that was ; not in his de- 
 livery, always dignified and often greatly inspired as 
 that was; but first, it would seem, in the "power" 
 which, he said himself, " lies at the centre of all 
 success in preaching, — the value of the human soul 
 felt by the preacher ; " and second, and yet more, 
 in the character which this pi-eacher brought to his 
 
48 PHILLIPS BROOKS ^MEMORIAL. 
 
 preaching and intermingled with every part of it. 
 One might say of him, as of few writers or speak- 
 ers, that he was greater than his works; not greater 
 than his subject, for that was divine as well as 
 human, but greater than his treatment of it, delight- 
 ful, persuasive, transforming though the treatment 
 were. 
 
 The simple truth is he Avas a spiritual genius. 
 Just as men have a genius for science, or literature, 
 or art, he had a genius for religion. He would 
 have been called in former times a seer. He studied 
 human nature; he laid it, and himself as a part of 
 it, before the Divine l^ature, studying this still more, 
 and made the relations between them the sources 
 and the issues of life. He helped men to know 
 themselves, and far more, their better selves. " The 
 cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces " which 
 allure so many, and waste so many in the building, 
 were but thin air to him, and became such to them, 
 as they beheld the eternal realities all massive with 
 the strength, all attractive in the graces, which he 
 revealed. The old chronicles of Granada relate that 
 when the city was still in the hands of the Moors, 
 a Christian knight crossed the mountains, scaled the 
 gates, and fixed a cross upon the mosque within, 
 foreteller of the conquest soon to be achieved. So 
 our Knight traversed all obstacles, fixing the cross 
 upon every institution and every class of our society, 
 and claiming them for his Master. 
 
 The poet strikes the loftiest chords, and the hum- 
 blest, with the same inspiration, creates the Vision 
 
THE EULOGY. 49 
 
 of Sir Launfal, and plucks the dandelion, '' dear com- 
 mon flower ; " for every object he can sing is sacred. 
 So the great preacher one day calls us to a crusade 
 of flashing steel, and the next, bids us give a cup of 
 cold water to the dying in a darkened garret. It is 
 all duty, all loyalty to the 
 
 " Stuin daughter of the voice of Ood ; '' 
 
 and as we listen and obey, the form changes, 
 
 " Xor kuow we anything so fair 
 As is the smile upon thy face." 
 
 Our prophet was tireless in his incentives. But they 
 were thoroughly discriminating. ]^ot every labor was 
 worth undertaking, nor every honor worth wearing. 
 Opportunities are oui's, as he would reason, but the 
 first is the opportunity of weighing them, and then, 
 not till then, comes the seiziu'e of them. " How," 
 asked the novice of the saint, " shall I live the 
 higher life?" — "My son, go live the lower life, and 
 God will teach you the higher." Our saint would be 
 loth to allow that any life well lived could be called 
 low. All life is high, or may be so. All is a part 
 of the service, in which there is but one kind, though 
 there are many degrees, and to enter this service, and 
 fulfil it according to our abilities, is the higher life 
 from beginning to end. Of this he was, in a certain 
 sense, the discoverer to his generation. There was 
 a holy land beyond the sea, as every one was already 
 told ; but that the sea on which all were free to sail. 
 
50 PHILLIPS BROOKS MEMORIAL. 
 
 and on which his white pennant pointed the way, was 
 itself holy, this was his glad tidings. 
 
 There should be no exaggeration of any difficulties 
 which he helped his followers to overcome. That 
 would be missing the very keynote of his teachings. 
 " The naturalness of the new life" was a topic on 
 which he delighted to dwell. " You must claim your 
 brother," he urged, " for the holiness to which his nat- 
 ure essentially belongs, — 'I have found what you and 
 I and all men Avere made to be.' " If there is one 
 principle above all others that may be regarded as 
 the heart of his doctrine, it is this, and in the at- 
 tempted enumeration of his gifts as a religious 
 teacher, this stands intentionally as the sum. He 
 asked his people, every age, every condition among 
 them, to a loyalty that required no unnatural effort. 
 " This is a practical matter," said a young man 
 to whom he quoted Jesus Christ. " But I have al- 
 ways regarded Christ," was the reply, " as eminently 
 practical." And he always regarded obedience to 
 Christ in the same perfectly simple way. It was a 
 condition into which we entered, each one of us, in 
 virtue of our humanity. To be a Christian was to be 
 a complete man; to be a man, completely a man, was 
 to be a Christian. There was nothing perplexing, 
 nothing harassing, in the confession of our Lord and 
 Saviour. All the violence that could be done to nat- 
 ure was in not confessing Him. 
 
 Here rests an incomplete presentation. One element 
 of incompleteness, already adverted to, is the absence 
 of immediate reference to the church in which he 
 
THE EULOGY. 51 
 
 served, and rejoiced to serve. Others have spoken 
 of him as greater than his church, perhaps not greater 
 than theirs, but greater than that which is not theirs. 
 Others still have wondered how he could have been 
 loyal to any church, for there is none, they think, that 
 would not have hemmed him in and belittled him. He 
 thought otherwise, and was grateful to his church as 
 a support to everything, however arduous, he under- 
 took, and a warrant for the largest sympathies he 
 could feel. The church which enshrined his faith 
 speaks for itself in him. 
 
 Before ending, let us give a thought, if no more, to 
 his private life; to the affections which made it beauti- 
 ful to his kindred and nearer friends; to the playfulness 
 of his conversation with them ; to the humor which 
 rendered his companionship charming to all who 
 shared it ; to his delight in children, especially little 
 children, and their delight in him ; to the unconscious- 
 ness with which he dropped all his distinctions and 
 successes as soon as the door of his home or of any 
 friend's home closed upon him, indeed before it closed ; 
 to the unchangeable simplicity of his habits, his man- 
 ners, his opinions, as they presented themselves to 
 such as were permitted to see him by himself. These 
 are precious recollections to all who loved him, and 
 they cannot be left out of any sketch of him. They 
 linger like the soft glow of a summer twilight, now 
 that his day on earth is over, and the day becomes 
 more lovely as we remember that out of it this twi- 
 light came. Let us be thankful, among a hundred 
 other causes of thankfulness, that this great man 
 
52 PHILLIPS BROOKS MEMORIAL. 
 
 was never greater than he was in the sight of those 
 who knew him best. " I shall not change," he said 
 to a brother clergyman who seems to have been doubt- 
 ful whether he would be the same after being a bishop, 
 — "I shall not change, and you will always find me just 
 as you have found me heretofore." It was wholly 
 true. Ho could not change, and no effort on his part 
 was required not to change. 
 
 In the letter from which a passage has been read, 
 he said of Boston, " We call it an old city for 
 America, but its face is turned to the future, and 
 not to the past, and it is as restless as it has been 
 since it was a child." Were he here to speak to us, 
 he would tell us to go forth without faltering to 
 meet all that is yet to be before Boston can be 
 wholly itself ; all the work for body, mind, and soul 
 yet waiting to be done here ; all the proud, yet 
 calm and jjatient, hopes which no one more than he 
 breathed into us ; all the brave, self-denying, self- 
 consecrating purposes, which, as they were his, may 
 also, though in an inferior degree, be oui'S. 
 
 He was buried, it has more than once been said, 
 like a king. Kings are buried with furled banners, 
 the blare of trumpets, and the march of soldiery, 
 not one among whom may care whether the old 
 king or the new be reigning. JSTot such the burial 
 of this prophet. His chufch filled with the nearest 
 to him, the square and the streets thronged Avith 
 multitudes to whom he had ministered by service, by 
 speech, or simply by character ; this was not a 
 stately ceremony, so much as an impassioned fare- 
 
Tin: EULOGY. 5o 
 
 well from hearts all full of grief and reverence and 
 love. The emotions of that day have been kept alive 
 by the tributes upon tributes which have succeeded. 
 Learned and unlearned, religious men and men not 
 confessing themselves religious, orthodox and radi- 
 cal, Protestant and Roman Catholic, Christian and 
 Jew, conditions, temperaments, and opinions the 
 farthest aj^art, have united in one universal outburst 
 of homage to his memory. It is overwhelming evi- 
 dence, were any needed, in favor of his estimate of 
 human nature. That nature from confidence in which 
 he undoubtedly drew a large share of his spiritual 
 strength, never touching it without feeling stronger ; 
 that nature has shown itself worthy of him, and of 
 all he said and did for it, by the tender veneration 
 with which it has followed his departing form. It is 
 his form only which has departed. His spirit is here 
 as truly as it ever was, perhaps more truly than it 
 ever was, for it has passed into that Great Serene 
 where its workings are undisturbed, and its influ- 
 ences come untroubled through the upper skies. 
 
 " He leaves behind him . 
 
 Far worthier thiugs than tears. 
 Are not his footsteps followed by the eyes 
 
 Of all the good and wise? 
 Though the warm day is over, yet they seek 
 
 Upon the lofty peak 
 Of his pure mind, the roseate light that glows 
 
 O'er death's perennial snows. 
 Behold him ! From the regions of the blest 
 
 He speaks." 
 
FINAL PROCEEDINGS 
 
FINAL PROCEEDINGS. 
 
 At the meeting of the Common Council on the thirteenth 
 of April, the following resolves were introduced by Mr. 
 Mansfield, of Ward 14, and unanimously adopted, namely: 
 
 Resolved, That the thanks of the City Council 
 be and hereby are extended to Samuel Eliot, 
 LL.D., for his scholarly and dignified eulogy upon 
 the life and character of the late Phillips Brooks, 
 prepared for the memoi-ial services held in Music 
 Hall, on the 11th inst., under the auspices of the 
 City Council. 
 
 Resolved, That the thanks of the City Council 
 be hereby expressed to Charles R. Codmai^", 
 Esq., for kindly consenting, upon the illness of Dr. 
 Samuel Eliot, to read his eulogy upon the life 
 and character of the late Phillips Brooks, in Music 
 Hall, on the 11th inst. 
 
 Resolved, That the thanks of the City Coun- 
 cil be hereby exjjressed to the Rev. Minot J. 
 Savage for the poem composed by hiai for the 
 memorial services at Music Hall on the 11th inst. 
 in honor of the late Phillips Brooks. 
 
58 PHILLIPS BROOKS MEMORIAL. 
 
 Resolved, That the thanks of the City Coun- 
 cil be hereby expressed to the Rev. Joshua P. 
 BoDPiSH, for performing the duties of chaplain at 
 the memoi'ial services at Music Hall, April 11, 1893, 
 in honor of the late Phillips Brooks. 
 
 The Board of Aldermen at their meeting on the seven- 
 teenth of April unanimously concurred with the Common 
 Council in the adoption of the resolves. 
 

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