Morning appeal. [volume] (Carson City, Nev.) 1877-1906, 1879-06-05
LOVES LAST OFFERING.

We present to our readers this short aG-
dress delivered by Col Robert Ingersoll over
the remains of his brother. Nothing more
touchingly beautiful or pathetically eloquent
was ever spoken when consigning loved
form back to the earth from whence it came:
"My friends, am going to do that which
the dead oft promised he would do for me.
The loved and loving brother, father, hus
band, friend, died where manhood's morning
almost touches noon, and while the shadows
were still falling towards the West. He had
not passed on life's highway the stone that
marks the highest point, but being weary for
moment, he lay down by the wayside, and
using his burden for pillow fell into the
dreamless sleep that kisses down his eyelids.
Still, while yet in love with life and raptured,
with the world he passed to silence and pa
thetic dust. Yet, after all, it may be best,
just in the happiest, sunnlest hour of all the
voyage while eager winds are kissing every sail
to dash against the unseen rock, and in an in
slant to hear the pillows roar, ga sunken ship"
for whether in mid sea or among the breakers
on the farther shore, wreck must mark at
last the end of eac.. and all, and every life, no
matter if its every hour is rich with love and
every moment jeweed with Joy, will at its
close become tragedy sad and deep and
dark as can be woven of the warp and wool of
mystery and death. This brave and tender
man in every storm of life was oak and rock,
but in the sunshine he was vine and flower.
He was the friend of all heroic souls. He
climbed the heights and left all superstitions
far below, while on his forehead fell the golden
dawning of grander day He loved the
beautiful and was with color, form and music
touched to tears. He sided with the weak,
and with a willing hand gave aims. With
loyal heart and with the purest hand he faith
fully discharged all public trusts. He was a
Eorshlpper of liberty, and a friend of the OPP
pressed. A thousand times [ have heard him
quote the words, For Justice all places are
temple, and all seasons Summer" He be-
leved that happiness was the only good, rea-
son the only TORCH justice the only Worship
per, humanity the only religion, and love the
priest He added to the sum of human joy,
and were every one for whom he did some
loving service to bring blossom to his grave,
he would sleep tonight beneath wilderness
of flowers. Life is narrow vale between the
cold and barren peaks of Two eternities. We
strive in vain to look beyond the heights. We
cry aloud, and the only answer is the echo of
our walllng cry. From the voiceless lips of
the unreplying dead there comes no word but
the light of death. Hope sees star, and lis
tenlng love can hear the rustic OF wing. lie
who sleeps here when dying, mistaking the
approach of death for the return of health,
whispered with his latest breath, 81 am
better now Let us believe in spite of
doubts and dogmas, and tears and fears, that
these dear words are true of all the countless
dead. And now, to you who have been cho-
sen from among the many men he loved, to
do the last sad Office for the dead, we give his
sacred dust. Speech cannot contain our love.
There was, there is, no gentler, stronger,
manlier man,