The Wheeling daily intelligencer. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1865-1903, 1883-04-17
TOUCHING EULOGY.


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TOUCHING EULOGY.
Delivered by Roberto. IngersoiI Over
the Dead Body of u Friend.
WASHINGTON, April l6.-John Mills, who
besides acting for years as Private secre.
tary to Representative Murch, OF Maine,
distinguished himself in local circles as a
labor agitation and reformer, died yester-
day OF pneumonia and this evening his re.
mains were taken TO Port Jervis, N. Y,
where tkey will be buried tomorrow. Be-
fore taking the remains to the depot they
were transferred from the late residence Of
the deceased TO that OF Colonel N. w. Fitz.
gerald, on K street, next to Senator Sher-
mans, where the larger parlors afforded
more room for the preliminary funeral ser.
vices.
Mills was Freethinker in religion. Be.
cause OF report that Colonel Robert In
gersoll would deliver funeral oration,
there was gathered in the house by 7:30
o'clock large number OF people OF all
classes. Among them were Senator Van
Wyck, Representative Murch, Ex-senator
Fowler, Ex-senator Dorsey and Register
Blanche X. Bruce. There were also pres.
ent several who are prominent in so-called
infdel circles.
THE GRAFTON.
Following is the full text OF Colonel In
gersoll's oration: again we are face to
face with the great mystery that shrouds
this world. Out on the wide waste Of seas
there drifts no spar. Over the desert Of
death the sphinx gazes forever but never
speaks. In the very May OF lie another
heart has ceased to beat. Night has fallen
upon noon, but he lived, he loved, and was
loved. Wife and children pressed their
kisses on his Ilips. This is enough. The
longest lie contains no more, This fills
the vase OF joy. He who lies here clothed
with the perfect peace OF death, was kind
and loving husband, and good father, a
generous neighbor, an honest man;
and these words build monument ol
glory above the humblest grave. He was
always child, sincere and frank /; as full
of hope as spring. He divided all time
into day and tomorrow. Tomorrow was
without cloud, and OF tomorrow he Dor.
rowed sunshine for to-day. He was my
friend. He will remain 80. That the
living often become estranged from the
dead is 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 prob.
lens Of the world. Be accepted the
philosophy OF ofAuguste Comte. Humanity
was his God; the human race
the Supreme Being. In that Supreme
Being 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 thankiulness, should plant for
others yet to be. With him immortality
was the eternal consequences OF his own
good acts. He believed that every good
thought, every disinterested. deed hastens
the harvest Of universal good. This is a
religion that enriches poverty; that ena-
bles us to bear the sorrows OF the saddest
life that peoples even solitude with the
happy millions yet to be; religion born,
not of selfishness and fear, but OF love and
hope that gladly bears the burdens Of the
unborn.
IN DEATH.
"In The presence Of death how beliefs
and dogmas wither and decay; how loving
words and deeds burst and blossom. Pluck
from the tree Of any lie these flowers, aud
there remain but the barren thorns OF big.
otry and creed. All wish for happiness
beyond this life. All hope to meet again
the loved and lost. In every heart grows
this sacred flower Of eternal hope. Immor.
tality is a word that hope through all the
ages has been whispering to love. The
miracle Of thought we cannot under.
stand. The mystery OF death and
hope We cannot comprehend. The
chaos to the world has never been
explained, The golden bridge ot life
from gloom emerges, and our shadow
rests. Beyond this we do not know. Fate
Is speechless, destiny is dumb, and the 30.
Ctet OIL tut lutuIt uhS utNeI yet DeeQ tOlu.
We love: we wait: we hope. The more
we love, the more we fear; upon the ten
derest heart the deepest shadows fall. All
paths, whether filled with thorns or flow.
ers, end here. Here success and failure
are the same. The rag Of wretchedness
and the purple robe o., power lose difference
and distinction In this democracy OF death;
character alone survives, goodness
alone survives love alone isimmoItal But
to these comes a time when the favored
lips Of life long for the cool, delicious kiss
OF death. Tired Of the dust and glare Of
the day, they hear with Joy the rustling
garments Of the night. What can we say
Of death? What can we say Of the dead :?
Where they have gone reason cannot 20,
and from thence revelation has not come;
but let us believe that over the cradle ma.
ture bends and smiles, and lovingly above
the dead In benediction holds her out.
stretched hands"
The Tide OF Immigration.