Dec. 9, 1859.
My Dear Emerson,
— Mr. Apthorp leaves me a corner of his paper, which I am only too glad to fill
with a word or two of greeting to you and yours. I rejoiced greatly at the
brave things spoken by you at the Fraternity Lecture, and the hearty applause I
knew it must meet with there. Wendell Phillips and you have said about all the
brave words that have been spoken about our friend Captain Brown — No! J. F.
Clarke preached his best sermon on that brave man. Had I been at home, sound
and well, I think this occasion would have either sent me out of the country —
as it has Dr. Howe — or else have put me in a tight place. Surely I could not
have been quite unconcerned and safe. It might not sound well that the minister
of the Twenty-Eighth Congregational Church had “left for parts unknown,” and
that “between two days,” and so could not fulfil his obligations to lecture or preach.
Here to me “life is as tedious as a twice-told tale;” it is only a strennous
idleness, — studying the remains of a dead people, and that too for no great
purpose of helping such as are alive, or shall ever become so. I can do no
better and no more. Here are pleasant Americans, — Mrs. Crawford, my friend Dr.
Appleton, and above all the Storys, — most hospitable of people, and full of
fire and wit. The Apthorps and Hunts are kind and wise as always, and full of
noble sentiments. Of course, the great works of architecture, of sculpture and
painting, are always here; but I confess I prefer the arts of use, which make
the three millions of New England comfortable, intelligent, and moral, to the
fine arts of beauty, which afford means of pleasure to a few emasculated
dilettanti. None loves beauty more than I, of Nature or Art; but I thank God
that in the Revival of Letters our race — the world-conquering Teutons — turned
off to Science, which seeks Truth and Industry, that conquers the forces of
Nature and transfigures Matter into Man; while the Italians took the Art of
Beauty for their department. The Brownings are here, poet and poetess both, and
their boy, the Only. Pleasant people are they both, with the greatest
admiration for a certain person of Concord, to whom I also send my heartiest
thanks and good wishes. To him and his long life and prosperity!
Theodore Parker.1
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1 Parker's letter to Francis Jackson on the deed
and death of Brown was one of his last public utterances, — for he died and was
buried in Florence, where Mrs. Browning was afterwards buried, in May, 1860.
SOURCE: Franklin B. Sanborn, The Life and Letters of
John Brown, p. 513
