The Arizona sentinel., 1876-11-18

that she is dead" but we take the
words back. Such men as he do
not die. He lives in the memo
rieS of men. His life has been SO
passed that his grave makes one
more sacred spot upon our shores.
His work has sOftened and eXalt-
ed the civilization of this coast,
his presence was at once. bene-
diction and an inspiration to the
foreign land when he went to re-
present the Great Republic for IA
season; his career will be an incen-
tive to poor but heroic youths who
are to succeed him. Such men
do not die. They pass on in the
procession of Nature, but their
memories, their words, their acts,
their lives. remain to guide and
instruct us. The casket may be
emptied, but the perfume fingers
still. This article is too long al
ready, and yet We have not eX-
pressed what we feel. We have
written what may satisfy the
brains of people. What shall We
say to comfort their hearts?
When one who is Old and weary
with the worlds strife sinks to
rest, we gain comfort in cOntem-
piati0n of that needed repOSe. At
eve we expect that the SUI will
go down and that the night will
come; out who is not startled
when, without notice, there com
eS at midday a total eclipse?
We think of the score of years in
with we thought our friend
would yet serve his country and
his feliOW-men, and are not recon
ciled. And yet the hands are
folded, the kindly eyes closed;
there is nothing more in order
save fareWeil5. We speak them
tenderly for the thousands who
knew him and loved him, for
those who fare sumptuOusiy and
dress in fine raiment every day,
for those who from their rustic
cabins among the defiies and can
yOns Of the desert State, with |
choking tears sob out their "all !
halls and fareWells" 10 the spirit |
which has fed. We say it for the |
Pioneers, the band who are the |
remnant of the first brave race
which awakened the chants of ci-
vilizatiOn on this coast, which |
started the wheels of Progress in
motion here, which redeemed the |
wilderness sand listened to catch
the natal cry Of States as they |
burst into being. We speak the |
"fareWells and all hails' of the |
Pioneers to the Pioneer who is |
gone, and wave to him loving |
greetings toward that shore where |
he now stands and toward which |
the rest are marching to the sound |
of heart beats which constantly |
grow slower. We say farewell for
the societies with which he labor
ed to make brighter the lives of
men; we saysit for the friends who |
stand, dumb and c0mfOrtless,
around his bier, and mutely ques-
ton why, in the noon Of his fair |
life he was cut down. And for
all, and for OurSeif, we would add:
dear friend, brave, gentle genial,
generous soul, Farewell.
1t would not he right to close |
these broken sentences without |
one word of coincidence for the
stricken family of the dead. New
er was there sadder spectacle
than that yesterday, when, with
the latest thrOb of the energy
which had served him so long.
the expiring man called for last
look Of the wife of his youth and
the five children who had made
the measure Of his happiness full,
and for whom he mad struggled
So maDfully to make, for their in
heritance, All honorable name
among mankind To these We
venture to say: there are no me-
lClI vi w IIV 10
save tender and honorable ones;
and though it is not much in such
an affection as has Overtaken you,
WhatevercomfOrt there may be in
the thought that toward your
dead a greater grief goes out. than
was ever felt here before, is yours,
and to you all the tenderest SYM
pathies of this State are offered.
For the crushed woman who us
widowed by this catastrophe, it is
but right to say that, could the
closed lips of the husband open
again he would bear witness, as
he often did in life, that whatever
radiance there was to his life, was
but sthe reflection of the glory
which came fromsher. She ever
held up his arms when he was
ready to faint; she has ever been
his counselor, his support, his
guardian angel. Who can mea-
sure the depth of her woe, or ap-
DrOXimata 10 a oODcnDtiOn Of her