River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1883-09-27
WHENCE AND WHITTIER.
Robert IngersoIPs Address at the Grave a
the Little Child of "A Friend.

Robert IngersoIrs Address at the Grav, %
the Little Child of "a Friend.
From the Washington Post
! In remote corner of the Congressional
| cemetery yesterday afternoon Il
small group of people, with uncovered heads.
ranged around newly opened grave. They
included Detective and Mrs George o.
| Miller and family and friends, who had
| gathered to witness the burial of Mr.. Mil
ler's bright little son Harry, recent victim
| OF diphtheria. AS the casket rested upon
the trestles there was painful pause, bro
ken only by the mothers sobs. Col Rob
| ert G. Ingersoll friend of the NIillers, at.
| tended the funeral at their request. He
shook his head when the undertaken first
addlessed him, and then said suddenly:
Does Mr.. Miller desire it2" The under
| taker gave an affirmative nod. Mr.. Miller
looked appealingly at the noted orator, and
then hastily Col. Ingersoll advanced to the
side of the grave, made a motion denotlng
desire for silence, and, in voice of ex-
quisite cadence, delivered one of his char
acteristic eulcgies for the dead. A fine
DRILLING rain was falling, and every head
was bent and every ear turned TO catch the
impassioned words Of eloquence and hope
that fell from the lips of the distinguished
speaker. Col. Ingersoll was unprotected
by either hat or umbrella, and his invoct-
ton thrilled his hearers with awe, each eye
that had previously been bedimmed with
tears Frightening, and sobs becoming
hushed. Col. Ingersoll said:
My Friends: / know how vain it is to
gid a grief with words, aud yet wish TO
take from every grave its fear. Here in this
world, where life and death are equal kings,
al should be brave enough 10 meet what ali
the dead have met. The future has been
e., 4 A.
heariless past From the wondrous tree Of
life the buds and blossoms fall with rip en-
ed fruit, and in the common bed of earth
the patriarchs and babes sleep side by side.
Why should We fear that which will come to
all that is2 We cannot tell, we do not
know, which is the greater blessng-life or
death. We cannot say that death is not Il
good. We do not know whether 4he 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 fortunate--the child dying in It's
mothers arms. before it's lips have learned
TO form word, or he who journeys ell ths
lenghth Of life's uneven road, painfully
taking the last slow steps with staff
md crutch.
Every cradle asks ms Whence? 2 aud every
fin. 'Whither?' The POOR bal baruln,
weeping above his dead, can answer these
questions as intelllgently and satisfactorily
AZ the Iobed priest Of the most authentic
creed. The fearful ignorance of the one is
just as consoling as the learned and I'M
meaning words of tho other. No man.
standing where the HORIZON or iira has
touched grave, has any rgutt To prophecy
n future filled with pain and tetrs. Vt may
be that death gives a., there i Of worth 10
life. If those we press and strain against
Iia -
love would wither from the earth Maybe
this common fate treads from out tbs paths
between our hearts the weeds of seltis huess
and hate, and had rather hive and love
where death is king than have eternal life
where love is not. Another life is naught
unless we know and love again the ones
who love us here.
"They who stand with breaking hearts
around this little grave need have no fear
The larger and nobler faith in all that is
and is to be tells us that death. even at its
worst, il only perfect rest. We know that
through the common wants of hfe-the
needs and duties of each hour-their
grief will lessen day by day, until at last
this grave will be TO them a place of rest
and peace-almost of JOY. There is for
them this consolation. The dead do not suf-
fer. If they live again, their lives will surely
be as good as ours.
I'VE have no fear. We are all
children Of the same mother, and the
same fate awaits us all. We. too, have
our religion, and it is this: Help
for the living-Hope for the dead"
A darky on Pecano plantation not long
since was much tried by the obstinancy
of mule. After much urging and kind
ness towards the brute he broke out
with "Ilook hear nowl mebby you think
>, ause l iined the church last Sunday
that can't use big words, bat I'll hab
YOU know I'm Qwine 10 make 'cep'
lion in your special case"
u ir sr,nnaafad az nna Of the lesanna OF