The Somerset press. [volume] (Somerset, Ohio) 1873-1977, 1879-06-12
A Beautiful Tribute.

The following is the orasion pronounced
by Col. Robt. G. Ingersoll over the body
of bis dead brother, the Hon. E. c. Inger-
soil, who died at Washington last week.
There was no ceremonies whatever, except
the oration of Col. Ingersoll:
MY FRIENDs.-I am going to do that
which the dead often promised he would
do for me. The loved and loving brother,
husband, father, friend, died where man
hoods morning almost touches noon, and
while the shadows still were falling toward
the west. He had not passed on life's
highway the stone that marks the highest
point, but being weary for a moment he
laid down by the wayside, and, using his
burden for pillow, fell into that dream
less sleep that kisses down his eyelids still.
While yet in love with life and raptured
with the world, he passed to silence and
pathetic dust. Yet after all, it may be
best, just in the happiest, sunniest hour Of
all the voyage. while eager winds are kiss.
ing every sail, to dash against the unseen
rock, and in an instant hear the billows
roar sunken ship. For. whether in mid
sea or among the breakers of the farther
shore, q wreck must mark at last the end
of each and all. And every life, no matter
il its every hour is rich with love, and ev-
cry moment ieweled with joy, will, at
its close, become q tragedy, as sad, and
deep, and dark as can be woven of the
warp and woof of mystery and death.
This brave and tender man in every storm
of life was oak and rock, but in the sun.
shine he was vine and flower. He was the
friend of all heroic souls. He climbed the
heights and left all supsrstitions far below,
while on his forehead fell the golden dawn
ing Of a grander day. He loved the beau
tiful and was with color. form and music
touched to tears. He sided with the weak,
and with willing hand gave alms; with
loyal heart and with the purest hand he
faithfully discharged all public trusts. He
was vorshiper of liberty and friend OF
the oppressed. A thousand times have
heard him quote the words: "For justice
all place temple and all season summer"
He belieyed that happiness was the only
good, reason the only torch, justice the
only worshiper, 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
a blossom to his grave he would sleep to-
night 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 wailing cry. From the voiceless
lips Of the unreplying dead there comes no
word but in the night of death hope sees
a star and listening love can hear the rustic
of wing. He who sleeps here when dy-
ing, installing the approach of death for
the:return of health, whispered with his
latest breath: II am better now." Let US
believe, in spite of doubts and dogmss and
and tears and fears that these dear words
are true of all the countless dead. And
now, to you who have been chosen from
among the many men he loved TO do the
last sad Office for the dead, we give his sa.
Tcred dust. Speech cannot contain our
love. There was-there is-no gentler,
stronger, manlier man.