Fergus County argus. [volume] (Lewistown, Mont.) 1886-1946, 1892-04-28
INGERsoLL's TRIBUTE.
Poetic Words Uttered in Praise of Whit
mans Life and Works.

Standing near the bier at the funeral
services over the remains of Walt
Whitman, Col. Robt. G. Ingersoll said
in part:
"Again we in the mystery OF life are
brought face to face with the mystery
of death A great man, a great Amer
ican-the most eminent citizen OF this
republics dead before us. And we
have met to pay a tribute to his great
ness and to his worth. | know that
he needs no words of mine. His fame
is secure. He laid the foundations OF
it deep in the human heart. He was
above all that | have known the poet
of humanity and sympathy. Great
he was-so great that he rose above
the greatness that he met without ar
rogance; and so great that he stopped
to the lowest without concious conde-
scension. He never claimed to be
lower or greater than any other OF the
sons of men. He came into our gener
alton free, untrammelled spirit, with
sympathy for all. His arm was be-
meath the form OF the sick. He SYM
pathised with the imprisoned and the
despised; and even on the brow of
crime he was great enough toplace the
kiss OF human sympathy. One OF the
greatest lines in our literature is his.
Speaking OF an outcast-and the line
is great enough to do honor to the
greatest genius that had ever lived
he said: Not until the sun excludes
you will | exclude you A charity as
wide as the sky. And wherever there
was human suffering, human mlsfor-
tune, the sympathy of Whitman bent
above it as the armament bends above
the earth.
"He was built on broad and splen-
did plan-ample, without appearing
to have limitations-passin easily for
a brother OF mountains and seas and
onstellations-caring nothing for the
little maps and charts that timid
pilots hug the shore with, and giving
himself freely with the recklessness OF
genius to winds and waves and tides
caring for nothing as long as the stars
were above him. And he walked
among men, among writers among
verbal varnishers aud veneerers,
among literary milliners and tailors
with the unconscious dignity OF an
tique God. He was the poet also OF
that divine democracy that gives
equal rights to all the sons and
daughters OF men. He uttered the
great American voice, utter ed u song
worthy OF the great republic. He has
uttered more supreme words than any
writer of our century, and possibly oi
almost any other.
"He was above all things a man.
And above genius, above all the snow
capped peaks OF intelligence, above ali
of art, rises the true man-greater than
all. He was a true man; and he
walked among his fellow men as such.
He accepted and absorbed all theories,
all creeds, all religions, and believed in
none. He had philosophy and reli-
gion OF his own, broader, as he believed
and as believed-than Others. He
believed that the sons of men should
be absolutely acquainted with his
heart and brain. He was not afraid
to leave; not afraid to speak her
thought Neither was he afraid to die.
For many wears he and death lived
near neighbors. He was always will
ing and ready to meet and greet this
thing called death. And for many
months he sat in the deepening twi-
light waiting for night-waiting for the
light.
ain his brain there were the blessed
memories of the day, and in his heart
were mingled the dawn and dusk OF
life. He was not afraid-cheerful at
every moment; the laughing in the
nymphs OF the day did not desert him.
They remained that they might clasp
the hand OF the veiled and silent sis
ters of the night when they should
come And whsn they did come Walt
Whitman stretched his hands to both
one on the outside, the nymphs OF
day; and the other, the silent sisters
OF the night. And so, hand in hand,
between smiles and tears, he reached
his Journey end. From the frontier
of life, from the western wave kissed
shore he sent MS messages OF content
and hope. And those messages seem
now like strains of music blown by
the mystic trumpeter from deaths
pale realm.
To-day we give back to mother ma
ture, to her clasp and kiss, one OF the
bravest, sweetest souls that ever lived
in human clay. And | thank him for
the brave words he had said on the
subject of death. Since he has lived
death is less fearful than it was before,
and thousands and millions will walk
down into the dark valley OF the
shadow holding Walt Whitman by
the hand long after we are dead. The
brave words he has spoken will sound
like trumpets to the dying. And so /
lay this poor wreath upon this great
mans tomb | loved him living and /