The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1899-02-21

festation of this genius in our friend whom
We here commemorate. Like the style of
force of its substantives and verbs. Let it
be granted. what some of his critics say of
him. that there is little logic in his dis
course; there was something. better. He
was a man OF vision. He had the pro-
phetic spirit. He affirmed.
AS A CLUB MEMBER.
'It remains to speak of the social side of
Mr.. Reeds character. For seven years he
was a member of this club, and during that
time he was seldom absent from our Mon
day meetings. When he read an essay we
had a full house, and in the informal talks
which followed the regular order he was
the center of whatever group he CHANGED to
form a part. He was a model story teller.
never spinning a long yarn. but giving the
pith and point of the narrative. in the fewest
words. None of us who was privileged to
know him here can forget the twinkle OF
mischief in his eye, the peculiar INT or ms
right arm and the descending stroke with
which he emphasized his words: In his va,
ried life he had become familiar with All
phases of human life. Ee mingled with
equal freedom with the London wits at the
Savage Club, the blanket Indians of the
North, the pushers and guides in the Kan
kakee marshes, preachers, poets, journalists,
authors, doctors, lawyers, politicians, sol
dlers, civilians, men of all creeds ana OF
no creed, trampS and millionaireS, Workmen
and employers, men, women and children or
all sorts and conditions. He was in touch
with the society of his time at every point.
But words fail US In any attempt to por-
tray the characteristics of the man. lie
lived and spoke and wrought in the public
eye. When he left indianapolis for his West
ern home he made a. vacancy which We have
never ceased to feel. There was none like
him, there will be none like him. He was
easily the first man of Colorado, and when
he died there was not a town or city or
mining camp in that State that did not tes-
tify its grief. In spite of the intense cold,
ten thousand citizens of all classes, came to
his funeral and the service was conducted by
ministers of the Methodist and Congrega-
tional churches, and the eulogies were pro-
nOunced by a Jewish rabbi and a Catholic
priest. There has been nothing like 1t In
this country. The Rev. Stopford Brooke,
speaking of the funeral of Robertson, of
Brighton, who was hunted to his grave by
his ecclesiastical Superiors, says; Inefe
were united around his tomb in a common
sorrow and a common love Jews, Unitarians,
Roman Catholics, Quakers and churchmen-
and wealth of Brighton. For once, and it
was a touching testimony to his work, all
classes and all sects merged their differ
ences in one deep feeling
Mr.. Reeds last public utterance was at
the funeral of Mr.. Charles, of Denver, on
the 18th day of December last. He evidently
felt that the end was near. He said: This
life is only a prelude to eternity; we have
no prospects of heaven here, but we have at
a distance. That which we call death is but
a pause in the progress of life. l have been
pretty familiar with death for several years.
Every death is sad, sometimes it seems to
me to be violence. A little child dies whose
father and mother have put in several years
trying to keep it alive. 1t seems like the
blossom twisted from the twig. But when
death comes after life has done its good,
having enjoyed the summer, that is not VIC
lence. l don't think old age is to be sought
after. 1 don't want to linger on the threshold
of the stage. While L can be of any use,
then l am willing to remain
I'VE close with the closing words OF Rabbi
Friedman's address: Alas! is Myron Reed
only a memory? Can it be that the loving
form, the genial face, the gentle eyes, are
no longer with us? Have we lost our friend
forever? No; Death said he is but a bend
in the road. We shall meet again, COM
rade-we shall speak again-and then our
tears shall be forever wiped away"