Semi-weekly interior journal. [volume] (Stanford, Ky.) 1881-1905, 1889-12-20
Bishop Galleher's Address at the Funeral
of Jefferson Davis.

Of Jefferson Davis.
When We utter our prayers to-day for
those who are distressed in mind, when
We lift our petitions To the most merci-
full and ask benedctien on the desolate,
we remember that one household above
others is bitterly bereaved and that hearts
closely knitted to our own are deeply dis
tressed. For the master OF Beauvoir lies
dead under the dropping flag of the sad
dened city, the light of his dwelling has
gone out and left it lonely for all days to
come. Surely we grieve with those who
weep tender tears of pain and trouble
and there is not sigh OF the Gulf breeze
that sways the swinging moss on the cy-
press trees sheltering their home, but
finds an answer on our own burdened
breathing.
We recall with sweet sympathy the
wifely woe that can he measured only
by the sacred depts OF wiiely deyotion;
and our hearts go travelling across the
heaving Atlantic seas to meet and COM
fort, ii we might, the child who, coming
home, shall for once not be able to bring
all the sweet splendors of the sunshine
with her.
Let us bend with the stricken house.
hold and pay the tribute OF our tears,
and then, acknowledging the stress and
surge of peoples sorrow, say that the
stately tree of our Southern wood, plant
ed in power, nourished in kindly dews,
branching in brave luxuriance and scar
red by many storms, lies uprooted. The
end of a long and lofty life has come,
and moving volume Of human history,
has been closed and clasped. "The
strange and sudden dignity of death"
has been added to the fine and resolute
dignity of the living.
A man who in his person and history
symbolized the solemn convictions and
tragic fortunes of millions OF men cannot
pass into the gloom that gathers around
a grave without sign or token from the
surcharged bosoms of those he leaves be
hind; and when Jefferson Davis, reach
ing "the very seamark of his utmost
sail, goes to his God, not even the most
ignoble can chide the majestic mourn
ing, the sorrowing honors OF last "sa-
Lutte"
am not here to stir, by breath, the
embers OF a settled strife; to speak one
word unworthy of him and of the hour,
What is writ is writ in the worlds mem
DRY and in the books of cod. But | am
here to say that this man as christian
and churchman, was a lover of all high
and righteous things; as citizen, was
fashioned in the old, faithful type; as Il
soldier, was marked and fitted for more
than fame-the Lord God having set on
him the seal of the liberties OF men.
Gracious and gentle, even to the low
Hest, nay, especially to them; tender as
he was brave, he deserved to win all the
love that followed him. Fearless and
unselfish, he could not well escape the
lifelong conflict to which he was COM
mitted. Greatly and strangely miscon-
ceived, he bore injustice with the calm
ness beiitting his place. He suffered ma
ny and grevous wrongs, suffered most
for the sake of others and those others
will remember him and his unflinching
fidelity with deepening gratitude, while
the Potomac seeks the Chesapeake or
the Mississippi sweeps by Briarfeld, on
its way to the Mexican sea.
When on the December night the worn
warrior joined the ranks OF the patient
and prevailing ones who
"Loved their land with love far brought,
II one of the mighty dead gave the challenge,
! Art thou OF us:'
! lie answered, Il am here