The weekly Republican. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1911-1922, 1911-04-13
IN MEMORY OF DIR. J. E. BROOKE
(By Daniel McDonald)


On Sunday afternoon, April 9, l911,
there was laid away to his final rest
in Oak Hill cemetery, one Of the old
est citizens, 81 years, and also one of
the Oldest residents Of Plymouth, in
the person Of DR.. j. E. Brooke, whose
death occurred after an illness of sew
ersl months Of old age and general
debility, March 81, 1911. For sew
tlal days e lao been rapidly de-
cIining and his aged wife and daugh-
ter, Mrs. Helm, who we're in constant
attendance upon him, were not sur
prised when the end came. Having
passed a restless night, early In the
morning he went into a deep sleep
from which he did not awake, thus in
reanty passing away like one who
wraps the drapery Of his couch about
him and lies down to pleasant
dreams.''. AT. his advanced age the
end came quietly and peacefully, just
as he wished it, and he could truth
fully have said: 1888 -,-e s ga
s'Life, we've been long together,
8 Through pleasant and through
stormy weather. -
IT'S hard to part when friends are
.as4 dear = >~ialree - n4gss 81.
Perhaps twill cost, sigh, a tear;
Then steal away give little warn
& ing; CHORD Nson ssea1ea os11j
Choose thine own time: - s'le 3.
10 Say not good night, but in some
~ brighter cline $, 81 'Joa suo7
q Bid me good morning. aN-
q q visit TO his bedside week prior
to his passing away indicated that al
though his physical frame was ex-
hausted. he was in full possession OF
his metal faculties. He realized as dc
all who may be passing down the hill
of life that the end could not be fal
in the future. He realized as we al
do that to all things animate the enc
must come: from it there is nc
escape: that wherever there is {
beginning there follows an ending
that from this inevitable law oil
mature there is no escape. Where
ever there is life death is sure tc
follow And after all. our deceased
friend might have asked, what is life
and what is death? Mankind are
born and then die and turn to dusi
and are forgotten. Everything pass
es away: the singer and his song vii
he forgotten; the poets sweetest
dream viii vanish, and the painter &
most beautiful conception on canvas
viii fade. All history; in time be.
comes fable, legend. myth. and finally
oblivion covers the record. And sc
on everything In existence-animate
and>s inanimate, is written The
End, n and the records are closed be.
yond amendment or correction. -
He belonged to no church organiza
! tion, believing that the moral and up
right life one lives, is an acceptiblt
record at the final accounting.
But ike many others he believed
as has been beautifully said, and a,
he could have truthfully declared:
+ az cannot believe that earth j.
man s abiding place. 1t cannot b
that oour life is cast up by the oceai
of eternity to float upon its wave,
and then to sink, into nothingness
else why is it that the glorious aspir
ations which leap like angels from
the temples of our hearts are foreve
wandering about unsatisfedq Why j
/ it that the rainbow and clouds com
over Us with beauty that is not o
earth and pass of and leave us t
muse on the faded lovefinessf VIII,
is it that the stars which hold thei
| festival around the midnight thron
are set above the grasp of our limit
ed faculties forever mocking us Wit
their unapproachable gloryf And 8
! nally why is it that the bright form
of human beauty are presented i
our view and then taken away from
i as. leaving the Thousand stroame n
/ affection to flow back IN Alpine tor
rents on the hearts! We are Dor,
for higher destiny than that 0
earth. There is a realm where tn
rainbow never fades: where stars viii
be spread out before us like island
; that slumber one the ocean. an
where the beings that pass out be
/ fore MS like shadows shall stay in on
presence forever. - W