Some of the most beautiful of Col. Ingersoll's orations were those that he delivered over the bodies of his friends. Among his best known books are "The Gods," 1878, "Ghosts," 1879, "Some Mistakes of Moses," 1879, and several volumes of lectures. IRVING (Rev. Edward, an able and eccentric preacher, and the founder of the "Catholic Apostolic Church"), 1792-1834. "_If I die, I die unto the Lord. Amen._" Some say his last words were: "In life and in death, I am the Lord's." IRVING (Washington, distinguished American author), 1783-1859. "_I must arrange my pillows for another weary night_," said on retiring. A moment later he tried to say something more but could pronounce only the word "end," after which he uttered a slight cry as of pain, and fell to the floor. When the physician arrived life was extinct. It was on November 28th, 1859, when Irving was seventy-six years old, that his death came. He had been in poor health for some months, suffering much from sleeplessness and a shortness of breath, but at the last a weakness of the heart brought the sudden end. Lacking to-day a man of letters who holds such a place in the affections of his countrymen as Irving held, it is difficult for us to realise the impression made by his death. It was as if a President or a great soldier had died in these later years. Flags on shipping and buildings in New York flew at half-mast, and the Mayor and Council recognised the event as a public grief. A multitude of people bore witness to their own sense of loss at the Sleepy Hollow Cemetery. The day of the funeral, December 1st, had the fullest beauty and suggestion of Indian summer--"one of his own days," the people said. It is to Longfellow, "No singer vast of voice; yet one who leaves His native air the sweeter for his song," that we instinctively turn for the words: IN THE CHURCHYARD AT TARRYTOWN. Here lies the gentle humorist, who died In the bright Indian summer of his fame! A simple stone, with but a date and name, Marks his secluded resting-place beside The river that he loved and glorified. Here in the autumn of his days he came, But the dry leaves of life were all aflame With tints that brightened and were multiplied. How sweet a life was his; how sweet a death! Living, to wing with mirth the weary hours, Or with romantic tales the heart to cheer; Dying, to leave a memory like the breath Of summers full of sunshine and of showers, A grief and gladness in the atmosphere. ISAIAH (spelled in the New Testament Esaias which means "salvation of Jehovah." He is the greatest of the Hebrew Prophets, and his poetical genius is ranked with that of Homer), B. C. 765-660. "_Go ye to the country of Tyre and Sidon, for the Lord hath mixed the cup for me alone._"