The Seattle post-intelligencer. [volume] (Seattle, Wash. Terr. [Wash.]) 1888-1914, 1892-04-08
INGERsOLL ON WHITMAN.
Tho Great Agnostic's Tribute ut the
Good Gray Poets Grave.

The Great Agnostic's Tribute ut tho
Good Gray Poets Grave.
From Report of whitman's Funeral.
81 deem it proper" said Thomas B. Harmed, the
poets longtime friend. "to mention two impor
tant facts: One is Walt Whitman's positive be-
lief in Immortality, and the other his fearless
ness of death. With him immortality was not
hope and a beautiful dream. He believed that
he lived in an eternal universe and that man
was indestructible as his Creator"
DR.. Buck, the poets biographer. followed in
an address, after which Colonel IngersolI stood
up near the bier and spoke in part thus:
Again we, in the mystery of life, are brought
face to face with the mystery OF death. great
man, great American-the most eminent citi-
zen OF this republics dead before us. And
we have met to pay tribute to his greatness
and to his worth; I 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. OF sympathy. Great he was-so
great that he rose above the greatness that he
met without arrogance; and so great that he
stoope1 to the lowest without conscious con-
descension. He never claimed to be lower or
greater than any other of the sons of men. He
came into our generation a free, untrammeled
spirit with sympathy for all His arm was be-
meath the form of the sick He sympathized
with the imprisoned and the despised, and even
on the brow of crime he was great enough to
place the kiss of human sympathy. One OF the
greatest lines in our literature is his, speaking
do honor to the greatest genius that ever lived.
He ss ssa unit, the sun exclude, Won do 1s,oua.
you"
A charity as wide as the sky, and wherever
there was human suffering human misery,
the sympathy of Whitman bent above it as the
armament bends above this earth. de was
built on a broad and splendid plan-ample
without appearing to have NEUTRALITY-SUSPICIOUS.
easily for brother of mountains and seas and
consultations caring nothing for the little maps
that tIfnid N ms he vii
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 yarnishers and veneerers, among
literary milliners and tailors, with the uncon-
scious dignity OF an antique 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, uttered song worthy of
the great republic. He has uttered more SUI
preme words than any writer of our century
and possibly of almost any other. He was,
above all things, man. And above genius,
above all the snow-capped peaks of intelligence
above all OF art. rises the true man-greater
than all.
He was true man, and he walked amongst
his ellow-men as such. He accepted and abb
sorbed all theories, all creeds, all religions, and
believed in none. He had a philosophy and re-
ligion OF his own, broader, as he believed-and
as belfeye-than others. He was willing that
all the sons of men should be absolutely ac-
quainted with his heart and brain. He was not
afraid to live; not afraid to speak his thought;
neither was he afraid to die. For many
years he and death lived near neighbors.
He was always willing and ready
to meet and greet this thing called
death. And for many months he sat in the
deepening twilight-waiting for the night
waiting for the light. In his brain were the
blessed memories of the day, ana IN his heart
were mingled the dawn and the dusk of life
He was not afraid; cheerful every moment: the
laughing nymphs of day did not desert him.
They remained that they mi ht clasp the hand
OF the yelled and silent sisters of the night
when they should come. And when they did
come Walt Whitman stretched his hands to both
one on one side, 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 journeys end.
From the frontier of life: from the Western
wavs-kissed shore, he sent us messages of con-
tent and hope. And those messages seem now
like Strains OF music blown by the mystic trum-
peter rom deaths pale realm.
Today We gave back to mother nature. to her
clasp and kiss, of the bravest, sweetest souls
that ever lived in human clay. And / thank
him Tor the brave words he had said ON the sub
lect OF death Since he has lived death is less
fearful than 1t was before, and thousands and
millions will walk down into the dark valley of
the shadow holding Walt Whitman by the hand
long alter We are dead. The brave words he has
spoken will sound like trumpets TO the diving
And so lay this poor wreath upon this great
mans tomb. loved him living aud love him