The World. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1891-1896, 1892-03-31
THE POETS FUNERAL
Last Tributes Of Respect to the
Memory Of Walt Whitman.

Memory OF walt Whitman.
INGERsoLL's ELOQUENT TRIBUTE.
Il Moved Many Of the Five Thou
sand Mourners 70 Tears. and Is
Rich in Words or Praise for the
Humble Many Floral or
ferings.
CAMDEN, N. j., March 31.-The body
of Walt Whitman was consigned to the
tomb yesterday. Tie day was such
one as the poet would have chosen for
the last rites over the frame that held
his immortal spirit. Birds caroled joy
ously in the trees about his tomb in the
hillside at Harleigh cemetery, and the
warm spring sunshine flooded the earth.
It was such funeral as Camden had
never seen. There were the usual minor
trappings of mourning, but the popular
outpouring of sorrowing, reverent hui
manity was without parallel In the his
tory OF the town.
The line Of citizens that for nearly
three hours passed by his coffin to get q
last glimpse of the poets face was made
mp Of all sorts and conditions Of people.
The millionaire in broadcloth walked in
wake of the laboring man in coarse at
tire. Policemen, car drivers, boat men
and Representatives of the many crafts
and lines of labor-honest toilers whom
Whitman sang Of as the types of true
humanity--were conspicuous among the
sorr0wing crowd. There were many
women and little children in the throng.
The children IN the neighborhood all
knew the poet, and loved him for his
kindly ways towards them.
Many Floral Tributes.
There were many floral tributes from
distinguished men in all sections of the
country, and many of these were accom-
panied by touching letters of praise for
the dead.
The services At the grave, IN the pres
enre of 5000 men, women and children,
began with the reading Of scripture by
Francis Howard Williams, who also
read selections from the dead poets
works between the addresses which fol-
lowed.
Thomas E. Harmed spoke for the city
of Camden, Ito which Whitman came
in 1873 poor, paralyzed and sick Then
DR.. Daniel G.. Brinton made brief adj
dress, after which d.. 3. NJ. Buckle, Of
London, Ont, Wkitman's biographer,
pronounced an extended panegyric.
The final enlogy was pronounced by
Robert G.. IngersoH whose eloquence
fell upon the hushed assemblage with
marked effect, moving many tears,
Colonel In9ersOil's Tribute.
Again in the mystery Of life we ara
brought face to face with the mystery
of death. A great man, a great Ameri-
can, the most eminent citizen of this
republic, is dead before MS, and we have
met to pay tribute to his greatness
and to his WORTH / know that he needs
no words of mine. His fame is secure.
He laid the foundation of it deep in the
human heart. He was above all that
have known the poet of humanity, OF
symathy. Great he was, SO great that
he rose above the greatest without as
sumption of superiority, and so great
that he stopped to the lowest without
conscious condescension. He never
claimed to be greater or lower than any
other of the SONS of men.
He came into our generation q free,
untrammelled spirit, with sympathy for
all. His arm was beneath the form
Of the sick; he sympathized with
| the imprisoned and distressed. Even
on the brow Of crime he was
great enough to place the kiss Of
human sympathy. One of the great.
est lines In our literature is his, speak
ing of an outcast, and the line is great
enough to be worthy the greatest Of all
the authors Of ali the ages: mot until
the sun excludes you viii / exclude
you." 10
With charity as wide as the sky, and
wherever there was human suffering
and human misery, the sympathy Of
Whitman bent above it as the armament
bends above this earth. He was made,
built, ON broad and splendid plan:
ample, though appearing to have imi.
tations; passing easily for brother OF
maps and charts the tinnid pilots hug
the shore with.
And he walked among men, among
ladies, among variable varnishers and
Teneerers, among literary milhners and
taiiOrs, with the unconscious dignity OF
an antique god.
The Poet OF Democracy.
He was the poet Of democracy; he ut
Gof0u Tue great american voice; ne sang
song worthy of the great republic. No
man has ever said more for the rights oil
humanity, more in favor of real democ-
racy, of real justice, and neither scorn
nor cripging, neither tyrant nor slave
could move him. He asked only to
stand beneath the great flag of nature,
the blue sky and stars, the equal of his
fellowmen.
He was the poet of human life; he was
the poet of nature. He loved to look at
the sea when the waves burst into white
caps of JOY. He loved the music of the
birds. He loved all the beautiful OBJ
jects, on earth, and understood their
meaning. He was also the poet of love.
He was not ashamed of that divine
passion which has built every house,
painted every picture and made the
world worth living III and gives some
value to human life.
He was not only all this: he was more.
He was the poet of the human race
everywhere. He has uttered more pure
words than any writer of our century,
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