Clinch Valley news. [volume] (Jeffersonville, Va.) 18??-2019, 1899-07-28
IngersoII's Own Words
WERE HIS FUNERAL RITES

-'O Nk>Ot 6NO 10y GA 4NS Iao0lOr
but a Wilderness of Flow
ers" and Grief Everywhere.
The Family the Chief
Mourners
Without q hymn, n prayer, word
other than his own words, the friends
OF Col. Robert G. Ingersoll, the great
agnostic, bade him farewell Tuesday.
Never was there Il stranger, simpler,
sadder funeral
1t was IL, l.r himself would have
had them hot one word of hope or
one supplication for consolation from
on high.
1t could hardly be called funeral.
The trappings Of death were sti ange-
ly absent. There was no solemn
visaged undertaker's assistances, so
priskly busy in the face of grief.
There were no streamers of Grape, no
coffin, candles. There were neither
priests nor clergYmen-not even
Grape on the door
No one said q word that had not
been said before; the creed, tie ora-
tion, the poem, were words of his
own, spoken at the biers of others or
written by him when death was the
last thing thought of.
But human agony was there. There
were three women, hopeless in the
face of hope-the widow and the two
daughters. Not word was said to
comfort them, for who could say it to
their unbelief? They gave themselves
up to their woe. They wept as
other women weep who have hope
for hereafter.
1t was the first time that the su-
preme test had been put to their un-
belief-the father, the mother, both
daughters, the two grandchildren
all had lived. The family had never
been called upon to give up one of
their number before. They had not
even burial plot Three genera
tlons had enjoyed health, happiness
and prosperity always. And in their
grief they knew not which way to
turn. They had come against stone
wall of despair which only believers
could surmount.
Upstairs in his and his wifes bed
chamber lay the dead man. The wid-
ow was with him, as she had been
every moment since he died. So
were the daughters. They wore the
only tokens of mourning in the great
house-black silk waists and simple
black skirts. There was no Grape
anywhere. But flowers were every
where, ,and they surrounded the dead.
The widows and her daughters buried
their faces in their handkerchiefs and
wept softly. Prof. Ridpath gazed silent
ly at them for q moment. Then he
looked up. My friends" !" said he cit is
my sad duty to read in the presence of
the dead the last poem written by Col
Robert g. Ingersoll." Then he began
reading the beautiful, sad hopeful Dec
laration of the Free, published but on
June last. 1t summed up Col.
Ingersoll's belief in this world and what
lies beyond
Men were weeping now as Prof. Rid
path read softly and slowly the simple
words of the great Agnostic and Mrs.
Ingersoll and her daughters wept pit
eously and long-it was that the Agnos-
tic had been to them, a loving husband
and loving father. TLen came the end
Is there beyond the silent night
An endless day
Is death door that leads to light?
We cannot say.
The tongueless secret locked in fate
We do not know. We hope and Wait.
But the widow shook her head-she
had no hope. And her daughters looked
at her with stony eyes; they, too, were
hopeless in the face of these words OF
hope spoken by the dead. They could
not believe. Alone in his chair sat
blind Mr.. Rouss. When all were gone
he stood up. tremblingly, and had his
attendant lead him to the side of the
bier. 81 want to feel his face again
even if 1 cannotsee it," he whispered
The attendant guided his hand, and
there he stood, silently, while his hand