Belding banner. (Belding, Mich.) 1889-1918, 1912-07-18
Unfolded out Of the sympathy of the

Unfolded out of the sympathy OF the
woman is all sympathy;
A man is a great thing on the earth
and through eternity. but every
JOE of the "a eatness OF man is un-
folded OF woman"
But still. when we follow our
friends TO the brink of the grave, IL
$ hard TO lie philosophical. Whea
we gaze with exquisite anxiety out
upon the vast ocean OF life, the old
mans cred questions of whence anu
whittier come back to us.
What is life? Why do we live
md love. rejoice with family and
iiends for few short years. then
disappear? The question will no.
Town. Itours like this bring 1t
ack to us: What is l. ''e? Why
IRE we born? Why do we live?
WHY do We laugh, mourn, suffer and
lie? Shall we say with the poet?
Live is narrow vale be ween the
cold
md barren peals of two eternities.
We strive in vain to look beyond the
heights;
We cry aloud, the only answer
is the echo Of our wailing cry.
From the voiceless lips of the unre.
plying dead
There comes no word: but in the
night OF death,
Iope sees a star, and listening love
IAN hear the rustic OF wing.
-Ingersoll
Love, then, is the author OF the
hope of Immortality. 1t has made
he lover yearn for just one more OPP
portunity to ask forgiveness for all
he hasty words he has ever spoken;
and, failing in that, to wish that the
unspeaking lips might not be forever
dumb-that some time, somewhere
ne might hear again the old sweet
words OF love.
Science neither positively confirms
nor utterly denies that hope. The
brave man or woman, that is the
man or woman who thinks, has no
fear of death, so far as either is
personally concerned. The only ex-
cuse for heaven is TO have a place
where We may see again those we
have known. The brightest spot in
earth or sky would be cold and
cherries, IL it meant separation from
those we love and the knowledge that
they were suffering eternal pain. The
really unselfish soul would never
never think of going to place OF
everlasting JOY so long as anyone
else was left to suffer pain. Walt
Whitman, the Poet of Democracy
or as he has been called, the Cosmit
Poet, expresses my own views on i'm.
mortality when he said:
pleasantly and well suited ! walk
Whittier I walk | cannot define, but
| know it is good
| The whole universe indicates tha
il is good.
The past and the present indicate
| that il is good.
How beautiful and perfect are the
| animals.
How perfect the earth, and the mi
| nutest thing upon it.
What is called good is perfect. ant
what is called bad is just al
l perfect,
The vegetables and minerals ar
| perfect and the imponderabl'
fluids are perfect;
Slowly and surely they have passed
| on to this, and slowly and sure
ly they yet pass on.
swear / think that everything with
out exception has an eterna
soul,
The trees have, rooted in the ground
| the weeds of the sea have! thu
| animals
swear / think there is nothing bu
Immortality!
That the exquisite scheme is for it
and the nebulous float is 70
/ II, and the cohering is for 1t
And all preparation is for it! ant
identity is for it! and life ant
materials are altogether for it.
| What We call death is only ;
transformation. The babe mus
give up it's dimpled cheeks for child
hoods rudy glow. The child parts
with its toys when age brings more
serious things. The baby is gone
The child has taken its place. Thu
process seemed slow, but it was onl!
yesterday we learned to walk, pla.
marbles and dressed our dolls. To
morrow we shall become old. The
FIRE of youth will have spent itsel
and we shall make another change
This body OF ours which has beer
| constantly changing since we left oul
mothers knee, will grow tired ant
| lie down to rest. 1t would be more
L oNlCullht " ody VIC VIII b'OW III tt "
our present form and will make an
other change. And instead of the
expression of living again, I think
| IL is more in keeping with scientific
truth to say, we shall never cease
70 live. Just what will become OF
the elements that now make up our
bodies We do not know. And yet
Mans ignorance as to what will be-
come Of him after he dies never dis
| turbed a noble, truly religious soul
Does not the human heart con-
tain moral precepts, asked Emmanuel
Kant, and in order to be moved in
accordance with them, must the ma
,hinery OF another world be applied
o man? Can he really be honest,
can he be called TRULY virtuous. who
would gladly give himself up to his
'avorite vices il he feared no future
punishment?
This good woman, from who we
re parting today, demonstrated that
no myth is necessary to arouse the
ardour for the good OF all mankind.
That which is great and beautiful
suffices in itself bears its own in
spiration.
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