The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1899-07-24

dersouvile ana Libby, whose suHerlns ne
so el0quent1y remembers, Illinois h0fhi-
mates for the next President Of this coun-
,rv that prince Of pariamentarians, that
leader of leaders James o. Blaine
At the Bicr of HIS Brother.
MY friends. 7 am going 10 do that which
The dead often promised he would do for
me. The loved and loving brother. hus-
band. father friend. died where manhood S
morning Almost touches noon, and whiie
the shadows stil were falling toward The
west He had not passed on life's high
way the stone that marks the highest
point but being weary for a moment, ne
laid down by the wayside, and. using his
burden Tor pillow. fell Into that dream
less sleep that kisses down his cyelids stilL
While ye, in love with life and raptured
with The word, he passed 10 silence and
pathetic dust.
yet. after all IL may be best. just In
the happiest. sunniest hour of all the vOy-
age, while eager winds are kissing every
sail, to dash against the unseen rock, and
in an instant hear the pillows roar a sunk
IN snip. For, whether in mid-sea or
among the breakers OF the farther shore
wreck must mark at last the end or
each and all.
And every life, no matter if its every
hour is rich with love and every moment
jeweled with "a joy, will. at its close. be
comes a tragedy. as sad. and deep and
dark as can be woven of the warp and
wool Of mystery and death This brave
and tender man in every storm of life
was oak and rock, but in the sunshine he
was vine and flower. He was the friend
of al heroic souls. He climbed the nights
and left all superstitions far below. while
on his forehead fell che golden dawning
of a grander day.
He loved the beautiful, and was with
color, form and music touched to tears. He
sided with the weak and with a willing
hand gave aims, with loyal heart and
with The purest hand he faithfully dis
charged all public trusts He was a wor-
shipper of liberty and a friend of the op-
pressed A thousand times / have heard
him quote the words: For justice all place
a temple and all season summer He be-
lieVed that happiness was the only good
reason the only iorch, justice the only wor-
shipper humanity the only religion, and
love the priest.
He added 10 the sum of human joy and
were every one for whom he did some
loving service to bring a blossom to his
grave he would sleep tonight beneath a
wilderness of flowers Life is the narrow
vale between the cold and barren peaks of
two eternties. We strive in vain to look
beyond the nights We cry aloud, and the
only answer is the echo Of our waiing
u y + rom lllc NOlceleSS IlDS OF the uOre-
plying dead there comes no word; but in
the night of death hope sees a star and
listening love can hear the rustic of
wing.
He who sleeps here. when dying mis-
taking the approach of death for the re-
turn of health, whispered, with his last
breath, L am better now Let us believe
in spite of doubts and dogmas and tears
and fears that these dear words are true
q q he 70 Af,A
who have been chosen from among the
many men he loved to do the last sad Of
flee for the dead, we give his sacred dust
Speech cannot contain our love. There
was-there is-no gentler, stronger, man
ler man"
At the Grave of n Little Child.
At Washington in 1882. he spoke at the
grave of little child of his old friend De
tective George O. Miller of that city, say
ing:
Il know how vain it is to gid a grief
with words and yet l wish to take from
every grave its fear Here in this world
where life and death are equal things all
should be brave enough TO meet what all
The dead have met The future has been
filled with fear, stained and polluted by the
heartless past. From the wondrous tree of
life the buds and blossoms fan with rim
ened fruit, and in the common bed of life
the patriarchs and babes sleep side by
side. Why should we fear that which will
come 10 all that Is? We cannot tell, we
do not know, which is the greater bless
1ng-life or death. We cannot say that life
is not a good. We do not know whether
the 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 its mothers arms be
fof ftc bax
or he who Journeys all the length of life's
uneven road, painfully taking the last
slow steps with crutch and staff.
Every cradle asks us 'whence? and
every coffin WHITTIER? The poor barba-
rian weeping above his dead can answer
these questions as inlellgently as the
robed priest of the most authentic creed"
Verbal War with CIergymen.
A story is told Of him when he was 7.
The family then lived in Ashtabula. He
attended a revival meeting. After the
close of the preaching one of the minis
tiers came down TO where little Bob was
sitting and asked him If he was a Chris
tan.
Robert replied promptly that he was
not.
Don't you want to go to heaven?
asked the preacher.
No" replied Robert.
The minister scarcely could believe the
boy understood the meaning of the ques-
tons. so he repeated them several times
and a each time received the same an
swer.
His father afterward asked him about
the incident. Under the parental question
ing Bob acknowledged desire 10 90 tC
heaven, but said the preacher had ne
business asking such foolish questions"
1ugersons religious belief was not suct
an unusual one. He was not an atheist
but an agnostic. Concerning God and tho
hereafter he did not assert that there /.
no such thing; he simply averred he hat
no knowledge of them. II was his forci
bic method of asserting his lack of lnowl
edge and the reasons he gave to dispute
The knowledge of others that gave hin
| prominence.
His Picture of the Future.
one of Col Ingersolls most celebrated
| patriotic addresses was delivered In THU
| city on Memorial day. 1888. In his perora
ton. picturing the future of the United
| States, he said.
Il see our country filed with happ!
| homes, with firesides of content-the fore