He has lived, he has died, and death is less terrible than it was before. Thousands and millions will walk down into the "dark valley of the shadow" holding Walt Whitman by the hand. Long after we are dead the brave words he has spoken will sound like trumpets to the dying. And so I lay this little wreath upon this great mans tomb. I loved him living, and I love him still. A TRIBUTE TO PHILO D. BECKWITH. Dowagiac, Mich., January 25, 1893. LADIES and Gentlemen: Nothing is nobler than to plant the flower of gratitude on the grave of a generous man--of one who labored for the good of all--whose hands were open and whose heart was full. Praise for the noble dead is an inspiration for the noble living. Loving words sow seeds of love in every gentle heart. Appreciation is the soil and climate of good and generous deeds. We are met to-night not to pay, but to acknowledge a debt of gratitude to one who lived and labored here--who was the friend of all and who for many years was the providence of the poor. To one who left to those who knew him best, the memory of countless loving deeds--the richest legacy that man can leave to man. We are here to dedicate this monument to the stainless memory of Philo D. Beckwith--one of the kings of men. This monument--this perfect theatre--this beautiful house of cheerfulness and joy--this home and child of all the arts--this temple where the architect, the sculptor and painter united to build and decorate a stage whereon the drama with a thousand tongues will tell the frailties and the virtues of the human race, and music with her thrilling voice will touch the source of happy tears. This is a fitting monument to the man whose memory we honor--to one, who broadening with the years, outgrew the cruel creeds, the heartless dogmas of his time--to one who passed from superstition to science--from religion to reason--from theology to humanity--from slavery to freedom--from the shadow of fear to the blessed light of love and courage. To one who believed in intellectual hospitality--in the perfect freedom of the soul, and hated tyranny, in every form, with all his heart. To one whose head and hands were in partnership constituting the firm of Intelligence and Industry, and whose heart divided the profits with his fellow-men. To one who fought the battle of life alone, without the aid of place or wealth, and yet grew nobler and gentler with success. To one who tried to make a heaven here and who believed in the blessed gospel of cheerfulness and love--of happiness and hope.