* The funeral of the Hon. E. C. Ingersoll took place yesterday afternoon at four o'clock, from his late residence, 1403 K Street The only ceremony at the house, other than the viewing of the remains, was a most affecting pathetic, and touching address by Col. Robert G. ingersoll, brother of the deceased. Not only the speaker, but every one of his hearers were deeply affected. When he began to read his eloquent characterization of the dead man his eyes at once filled with tears. He tried to hide them, but he could not do it, and finally he bowed his head upon the dead man's coffin in uncontrollable grief It was only after some delay, and the greatest efforts a self-mastery, that Colonel Ingersoll was able to finish reading his address. When he had ceased speaking, the members of the bereaved family approached the casket and looked upon the form which it contained, for the last time. The scene was heartrending. The devotion of all connected with the household excited the sympathy of all and there was not a dry eye to be seen. The pall-bearers--Senator William B. Allison, Senator James G. Blaine, Senator David Davis, Senator Daniel W Voorhees. Representative James A. Garfield, Senator A. S Paddock, Representative Thomas Q. Boyd of Illinois, the Hon. Ward H. Lermon, ex-Congressman Jere Wilson, and Representative Adlai E. Stevenson of Illinois--then bore the remains to the hearse, and the lengthy cortege proceeded to the Oak Hill Cemetery, where the remains were interred, in the presence of the family and friends, without further ceremony.-- National Republican, Washington, D. C., June 3, 1879. DEAR FRIENDS: I am going to do that which the dead oft promised he would do for me. The loved and loving brother, husband, father, friend, died where manhood's morning almost touches noon, and while the shadows still were falling toward the west. He had not passed on life's highway the stone that marks the highest point; but being weary for a moment, he lay down by the wayside, and using his burden for a pillow, fell into that dreamless sleep that kisses down his eyelids still. While yet in love with life and raptured with the world, he passed to silence and pathetic dust. Yet, after all, it may be best, just in the happiest, sunniest hour of all the voyage, while eager winds are kissing every sail, to dash against the unseen rock, and in an instant hear the billows roar above a sunken ship. For whether in mid-sea or 'mong the breakers of the farther shore, a wreck at last must mark the end of each and all. And every life, no matter if its every hour is rich with love and every moment jeweled with a joy, will, at its close, become a tragedy as sad and deep and dark as can be woven of the warp and woof of mystery and death.