The Douglas independent. [volume] (Roseburg, Or.) 187?-1885, 1883-05-19
Ingersoll on Death.

Colonel r. Ct. Ingerson this evening
| delivered funeral Grafton over the re-
mains of Lis friend, John g. Mills, who
died here yesterday. Mr.. IngersolI, in
pronouncing this parting tribute of his
friendship and humanity gave utterallce
to the following words: Again we are
face to face with the great mystery that
| shrouds the world. We question, but
there is no reply. Ont on the wide. waste
seas there drifts no spar. Over the desert
of death the sphinx gazes forever, but
never speaks. In the very May of life
another heart has ceased to beat. Night
has fallen upon noon: but he lived, he
loved, he was loved. Wife and children
pressed their kisses on his lips. This is
enough. The longest life contains no
more. This fills the vase of Joy. He who
lies here, clothed with the perfect peace
of death, was a kind and loving husband
and good father, generous neighbor,
an honest man, and these words build q
monument of glory above the humblest
grave. He was always child, sincere
| and frank, as full of hope as spring. He
divided all time into to-day and to
| morrow. Tomorrow was without
cloud, and of tomorrow he borrowed
sunshine for to-day. He was my friend.
He will remain SO. The living oft be-
come estranged, the dead are true.
HE was not a Christian. In the Eden
of his hope there did not crawl and coil
the serpent of eternal pain. In many
languages he sought the thoughts of
men, and for himself he solved the
problems of the world. He accepted
the philosophy of Auguste Comte.
Humanity was his God-the human race
the supreme being. In that supreme be-
ing he rested. He believed that we are
indebted for what we enjoy to the labor,
the self-denial, the heroism of the human
race, and that, as we have plucked the
fruit of what others planted, we, in
thankfulness, should plant for others
yet to be. With him Immortality was
the eternal consequence of his own good
acts. He believed that every good
thought, every disinterested deed,
hastens the harvest of universal good.
This is religion that enrIches poverty,
that enables us to bear the sorrows of the
saddest life, that peoples even solitudes
| with the happy millions yet to be; re-
llgion, born not of selfishness and fear,
but of love and hope-the religion that
| that gladly bears the burdens of the un-
| liefs and dogmas wither and decay! How
loving words and deeds burst into bios
soms9 Pluck from the tree of any life
these flowers and there remains but the
barren thorns of bigotry and creed. All
wish for happiness beyond this life. All
| hope to meet again the loved and lost.
In every heart there grows this sacred
| flower of eternal hope.
Immortality is q word that hope,
through all the ages. has been whisper
| ing to love. The miracle of thought we
cannot understand. The mystery of
death and hope we cannot comprehend.
| This chaos called the world has never
been explained. The golden bridge of
life from gloom emerges and on shadow
rests. Beyond this we do not know.
Fate is speechless, destiny is dumb and
| the secret of the future has never yet
been told. We love, we wait, we hope.
| The more we love the more We fear.
/ Upon the tenderest heart the deepest
shadows fall. All paths, whether filed
| with thorns or flowers, end here. Here
success and failure are the same. The
rag of wretchedness and the purple robe
| of power lose difference and distinction
| in this democracy of death. Character
| alone survives. Goodness alone lives.
Love alone is immortal. But to all these
comes time when the fevered lips of
life long for the cool, delicious kiss of
death. Tired of the dust and glare of
day, they hear with joy the rustling gar
ments of the night. What can We say of
death? What can we say of the dead?
Where they have gone reason cannot go,
and from thence revelation has not come.
But let us believe that over the cradle
nature bends and smiles, and lovingly
above the dead in benediction holds her
outstretched hands.-Chicago Herald,
April Is.