West Virginia argus. [volume] (Kingwood, W. Va.) 1877-1946, 1882-01-20
INGERSOLL on DEATH.
His Funeral Address at thc Grave
OF a child.

Ia n remote corner OF the Con-
gressional Ce enetery yesterday after
noon, saws the Washington Post,
small group of people with uncover
ed heads ranged around newly
opensl grave. They includes De-
! tective and Mrs. George o. Miller,
aud family and friends. who had
gathered TO witness the burial OF
tho form,l's bright little son Harry.
As the casket ested upon the tres
ties, there was pdialul pause. bro
ken only by the mothers sobs, until
the undertaken advanced toward
stout, lorid -compleXioned gentleman
in the party aad whispered to him.
This gentleman was Colonel Robert
G.. IngersoIl, friend Of the Miliers,
WHO attended the funeral al tbe,r
request He shook his hetd when
the updertaker frat addressed him.
and then said sud lenly: docs Mr..
Miller desire iiY' The undertaken
govo an Affirmative nod, Mr.. Miller
looked appealingly toward the Motel
orator, and thGn hastily Colonel In
gersoll advanced TO the side Of the
grave, made motion denotinq
desire for silence, and in voice OF
exquisite cadence delivered one of
his Characteristic eulogies lor the
dead. The scepe was intensely dra-
matte. A fine drizaling rain was
falling, and every head was bent
and every ear turned to catch the
impassioned words that fell from the
lips Of the speaker. Colonel Inger-
soil was unprotected by either hat
or umbrella, and his invocation
thrilled his hearers with awe, each
eye that had previously been he
dimmed with tears Frightening, AMI
sobs becoming hL1hed, C)lonel In
eersoll said
My Friends: know how vain II IL to
gid grief With words, and yet wish to
take from every grave its fear. Here in this
world, where life and death are equal
kings, all should be bravo enough to meet
what all the dead have met. The future
has been filled with fear, stained aud pol
luted by tho heartless past From the
wondrous tree OF lite the buds and blos-
SONS fall with rpened fruit, and in the
common bed OF earth the plt:iarchs and
babes sleep side by side.
Why should we fear that which will
come to all that is? We cannot tell. wa
do not know, which Is the greater bles
sing--life or death. We cannot say that
death Is not a 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 somewhere else "A dawn.
Neither can we tell which is the more
fortuuate--the child dying in ils motbo,-
arms before It's lips have learned Ia fo,,,
q word, or he who Journeys all the length
ot mes uneven road, painfully taking the
last slow steps with staff and crn,ch.
Every cradle asks u3 "WhenceY" and
every coffin WHITTIER The poor har
barian, weeping above his dead, can ans
wer these questions as intclligently and
satisfactorily AZ the robed priest Of the
most authentic creed. Tue fearful igno-
rance Of the one is just ~ cOnsoling as the
learned aud unmeanipg words Of the other.
M man, standing where the herizon of =
life has touched r grave. has any right 10
prophecy a future filled with pain and
tears IL may be that death gives all
there is Of worth in life. Ifthose VIC press
and strain against our hearts could never
die, perhaps that love would wither from
the earth. May be this common fate
ireads from out the paths between our
hearts TIE weeds Of selh3huess and hate
and had rather live and love where death
is king, than hay. eternal life where love
is not. Another life ls naught, unles. wa
know and love again the ones who love
gs here.
They who stand with breaking heart,
around this little grave need'have no fear.
The larger and thc noblcr faith in all tba,
is aud be TO be tells us that death, even at
its worst, is only perfect rest. We know
that through the common wants Of lit-
the needs and duties of each hour their
orief will Lessen day by day, unin at lfst
this grave will d. TO them place Of rect
and peacc-alm0st Of JOY. There is fer
hem this consolation: The dead do not
suffer IfthoY live again, their lives will
surely boz az good as ours We have no
ieor. We arc ell children Of the same
mother and the same fate awaits ms all.
We, too, have our religion, aud ii is thi.:
Help Tor the living Hope for the dead.
At the conclusion OF Colonel In
ReisoI . remsrks, the little coffin.
covered with beautiful and fragrant
flowers, vas lowered into ito resting
| place.
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