The Louisiana Democrat. [volume] (Alexandria, La.) 1845-1918, 1882-01-25
BOB INGERsOLL AT THE GRAVE.
A FEW REMARKS MADE OVER THE COZ
FIN OF A LITTLE
CHILD.

l SElAOs
| Says Washington dispatch oftht
| 9Th inst: In remote corner Of the
congregational Cemetary yesterda,
afternoon a small group of people
with uncovered heads were ranged
around a newly opened grave. They
included Detective and Mrs. Geo. O.
Miller and family and friends, who
had gathered to witness the buria
Of the formers bright little son Har.
/ ~, recent victim of diphtheria
AS the casket rested upon the tres
ties there was painful pause, bro
ken only by the mothers sobs, until
the undertaken advanced toward q
stout, horid complexioned gentleman
in the party and whispered to him
the words being inaudible to the
lookers-on. This gentleman was
Col. Robert G. Ingersoll, friend OF
the Millers, who had attended the
funeral at their request. He shook
bis head when the undertaken frs,
addressed him and then said sudden
~, "Does Mrs. Miller desire it?'
The undertaken gave an affirma.
tive nod. Mr.. Miller looked appar.
emily toward the distinguished ora
tor and then Col. Ingersoll advanced
to the side of the grave, made mo-
ton denoting a desire for silence,
and in a voice of exquisite cadence
delivered one Of his characteristic
eulogies for the dead. The scene
was intensely dramatic. A fine driz
cling rain was falling and every head
was bent and every ear turned to
catch the impassioned words of elo.
quence and hope that fell from the
famed orator. Col. Ingersoll was
unprotected by either hat or umbrel-
la, and his invocation thrilled his
hearers with awe, each eye that had
previously been bedimmed With
tears frightening and sobs becoming
hushed.
The Colonel said: "My friends,
know how vain 1t is to gild grief
with words, and yet l wish to take
from every grave its fear. Here in
this worfd whore life and death
are equal kings, should be brave
enough to meet what all Che heed
have met. The future has been fill
ed with fear, strained and polluted
by the heartless past. From the
wonderous tree oflife the buds and
blossoms fall with ripened fruit, and
in the common bed Of earth patri
archs aud babes 7sisep side BY side.
Why should we fear thaS-ghich will
come to all that is2 We cannot TEL,
"We do not know which is the
greatest blessing, life or death. We
cannot say that death is not good.
We do not know whether the grave
is the end Of this life or the door of
another, or whether the night here
is not somewhereelse dawn. Mel
Their can we tell which is the more
fortunate, the child dying in its mo-
theirs arms before its lips have
learned to form word or he who
journeys all the length of life's I'M
even road, painfully taking the last
slow steps with staff and crutch.-
Every cradle asks 'Whence?' and ev-
cry coffin 'Whither2' The poor bar
barian weeping above his dead can
answer the question as intelligently
and satisfactorily as the robed priest
of the most authentic creed. The
fearful ignorance of the one is just
as consoling as the learned and un.
meaning words of the other. No
man standing where the horizon of
life bias touched grave has any
right to prophesy a future filled
with pain and tears. 1t may be
that death gives all there is of worth
to life. If those who press and
strain against our hearts could never
die, perhaps that love would wither
from tile earth. May be a common
faith treads from out the paths be-
tween our hearts the weeds of sell
fishness, and l should rather live and
love where death is king than have
eternal life where love is not. An
other life is nanght, unless we know
and love again the ones who love as
here. They who stand with break
ing hearts around this little grave
need have no fear. Tie largest and
the nobier faith in all that is, and is
to be, tells US that death, even at it's
worst, is only perfect rest. We know
that through the common wants Of
life, the needs and duties of each