THE LIBRARY
OF
THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA
LOS ANGELES
J^c
J^i
Crx^(?^
ii is
offered to tlie puhlie in nieniory of onr whose
services to liis fellow-men cannot he too highly
estimated. All tiic l)eautiful words that arc lu-i-e
.-aid of liiiii 1 can heartily endorse. l)ni'in<^ a
most intimate aci|uaintaiiee oi' onci- iilty yeai's, I
never knew him to falter in tiie line of duty, or to
swerve from the liii;'h sliindard of manhood he had
established foi' him-elf. ('aim and diiiiiilied in all
emergencies, he was evei- thi' steadfast friend, the
valued counsellor. In teuderesl lo\ c. I cherish the
memory of my late associnte. II'ii;\(i-: Skavkh.
d. r. MiAi.iM.
Boston, Mas.s.. Oct. 7, l«8!i.
^Viogvayttg,
gio|,u*aphy.
HoitACK Si;a\i;i; \v;is Ixumi in liosloii on tlie'
2;")lh oC August, 1810. He was the second son of
NatlianicI and Il.innuli Seavei', and as a l)ov was
bright and promisinji', early n-«lon. Theii- >al'el\ and
perpetuity he regarded as nece,->ar\ to tiie siahilil \
( >
8 SJlooivaplui.
ist him, and
in 1S39, after Mi". Kneeland had left Boston to
reside in the AVesI, he liecame sole oeen|iant of
the editorial chair, thus \aeated. Then he^an
that i-emarkalile part nei-ship liet ween himself and
Ml'. Mendimi, which, havim;' continued foi- o\ cr
Hfly years, has rijiciKMl into more than lii'othcrly
atreetion and is now oidy severed by the ity hand
ol'di'alh. As one of oui- contemporaries remarked
of him: "From that day to this prt'sent time.
Ml!. Si:a\ I.I! Iiiis (lilig'ently and heroicidly labon-d
as compositor, editor, ;ind lecturer, for the de-
velopment and promotion of the nood cause of
Free 'riiouj^'lit. as he has nnderslooil il> principles
and objects. Both in season and out o|' si-ason,
ill health and sicknes>, with scarcely a day'- inter-
ruption foi' llie la>t half ci'iiUii-y. he has siooil at
his post like a faithful scntiiiel and a-ked foi- no
10
iSJogvitphy.
(tiscli;ii-L;c (Vuin his \viii-r;irc in l)cli;iir oC I'liix ci-sjil
Mi'iilal Lil)ci-|y. niul iin';iiiist rcliiiioiis hiiioti'N.
priest cTii ft. intolciancc. and siipi'i'stition."
He was espeeially loud of (lel)ates, reg^ardiiij:;
free discussion as a |)i-inie factoi- in the promotion
of truth; and cvci-v Sunday. Ixfore Paine Hall
was estai)hshed. wouhl lind liim in HospitalhT
Hall, the most hrilliant and eMectiw of tlie nian\'
ahle oi'ators who used to assiMuhU' there, I'eadv to
wi-estlt- in (U'l)ate with such men as AVetlierell,
Verity. Kiu^-. liurk. Hal)C(Kd<. and others. We
are knowinii' to the fact that many a Cln-istian
wild (h-opped into " ohl Hospitaller " from a spirit
of miscliief or curiosity, came away, after hsteninji^
to one of yin. Sk.wkh's forceful ai-,-v asrainst
his seathin<;- atta(dostoii, and lie was
of course -
was heiiiu' held ill the Town Park, and when it
was learned that the well-known ICditor oi' the
Ixvksti<;ATih
the Twivs'iii.A'roi; for years were [irescnt who
had lle\er iiejore seen hilll. lie eaille I'oiward
and s|)oke |ni- lilteeii niiiiiiles, and no more elo-
ijllellt spicch was e\er lieJore deli\cre(l. I"]\ cr)'
sentence wa.- lull orihouL;hl and wisdom and ^-oud
common >eii>.e. lie rcaeiie(l e\ ciN heart lii'lore
iiiiii, and il' there were ()rtliodo\ people |ireseiit,
(and there iiiiisi have lieeii a ijrcat many,) they
could hilt have adinitled that a <;ood and i;"reat
mail was addrcssiuL!' iheiii, — one who waseiililled
12 23uigvaphy.
to the rcs|)cct (if cxci-v line IViciHl n\' liiininiiity."'
At the State FiTctliinkci's' ( 'oiiNcnlioii at AUciiiy.
(N. Y..) Sci.t.n, 12. ;m(l 1:5. ISS.-,. lii> rcin;ii-ks
clianiu'd tlir laruc aiidii'iicc assciiihlfd in tin-
()])i'i'a House, and ihcy left ])i-ofonndly inipivssi-tl
witli tin- worth and ^ri'atness oC the veneraljlc
man w lio achh'essed tlicin. 'I^hiis it was. He was
one of Nature's nohlenieii. and was posst'ssed ol"
((uahties that in othei- and niore |io|»uhir walks ol"
hCe, had he eliosen tiieni. wouhl iiave covi'i'ed liini
witii wealtli and lame, and ranked iiim amonj.;' the
I'ortunate of earth. But who siiall say his re-
wai'd is not yreatei- in tiie eonseiousness of a thity
well performeil. and the impression he has made
and is yet to make on the |)|-o<;'ressivi' thought of
the eounti'v?
His life, though jon^'. has ix^'U an exeei'din^'ly
placid and i|uiet one. antl. except an occasional
al)sence from home on a lecturing' toni', has hi-en
mostly passed within the Tour walls of his sane-
tum, surrouncU'd hy his hooks and the t'xchanj;"es
that he loved to peruse. 1 )urin,ii' the loii<;- years
of his editorial worl< — the lonii'est, perha])s, of
any li\iuu' man — he met many ol' the leadin;^' ri'-
forniers of this trouhlons |)eriod, and numlHTi'd
among his j)ersonal friends sueh illu.strious names
2Jiocjvitplir(. 13
as William Lioy*! (Tarrison, AVciuk-ll I*hilli|)s,
TluM..k»iv Fai-kcr, VAv/mv Wright, Chark-s Brad-
laugh, Gt'orgc J. Holyoakt', Colonel Kohert G.
Ingersoll, James Partou, Parker Pillslmry, and
others. Blessed with a philosophic tiMiipciament,
he was at home in any society, and possessing" a
rai'c I'mul nf anccdntc and prrsoiial remiiiisccuees,
was a most agreeable and cnlcilaining companion.
But he also loved solit iidc, and \vlu're"none in-
trude," eould he always happy and occupied with
his own tlioughts.
In |)hysi(pic he was most couunandiug, his
large head and dignitied bearing securing to him
naturallv and al ail limes {\\v dei'erence oi' those
with whom he came in contact. Personally he
was the most kind and agreeable oi" men. (xeuer-
ous to a lanlt, he had little regard lor money, and
would cheerlnlly pai't with his earnings to any one
who might solicit assistauci'. In i'act, so heedless
wa> he ol' his own interests in this respect that
it wa> I'onnd neee>>ar\ I'oi- his I'rii'ud- to he cun-
staully on the watch lor those who. knowing ^Ih.
Sk.wkk's iveal'ness, wcic always waiting an oj)-
porluuity to bother him with iheii' sorrowful tales.
lie was considerate and good natuicd always,
easil\ approached, and would rt-assun- with a
14 iJuigviiphy.
smile atid a Isind word those wlio might otliciwist'
l)c disconcerted hy liis im|>(tsii\i;- presencf. All
the employees in the IwKS'rK.ATOK ofliee \ft\rd
hiin, and cordially accorded to liim that aihiiiia-
tion wiiich true gri-atness ever inspires.
Since tlie deatli of his wile in IS.IS, Mk.
Seaver has resided in his brother's family, and
to his sister-in-law, Mi's. Lydia Seavei', is due the
thanks of all Liberals for the kind care slu' has
taken of ]SrK. Seaver during- his last illness.
He was one of the i)i'onioters of tlu- Paine
Memorial Building enterprise', and was President
of the Paine Memorial Coi'poration at the lime of
his death. It was cbietly owing to his hearty and
disinterested support tliat ^Nfr. Mendum was able
to save the building Ibr the purposes Ibi- which
it was intended. This will always renuiin a tem])le
for him as well as Mr. Mendum, and as long a.s
it stands will reflect ci'edit to both. But his gi-eat-
est monument will I'Ver be The Boston Iwesti-
OATOR; for whatever the pajier has been for the
last fifty years, he has made it. To this Avork lii'
has concentrated the energies ol' his intellectual
life, the force of his genius, the value of his expe-
rience. The etiect these efforts have had in mould-
ing Liberal thought and modifying Puritanical
^iogvaphij.
15
ideas, it is impossible to cstininlc ; hut, i(" tiu'
eloquent Iniicrsoll's woids he ti-iic, he aiul his
iissoeiiites ha\c helped to |jl)ei-ali/e a (,'oiitiiieiit.
As l)rave and true men as >[i;. Si:a\i;i; have
stood lor tile riii'ht, as honest heaiMs ha\e sntlered
lor the wcll'ai'e ol' mankind; i)Ul. in oin' opinion,
no philosopher has lived in whom wisdom and
(■(»nra;4e, (irnnu'ss and eonrtesv. ha\c heeii moi'e
happilv Mended than in the iiolile one w ho^e lili'
has jnst elihed awav.
As his life \\a^ l)i'a\'e and i;'ood, >o was his
death calm and philosophic. I'^or allhonuh he
has known for some wc(d\s thai death was ine\i-
talile, it has caused him no trouMe lieyond the
natural reuret that he nnist pai't with Mr. Meii-
dmii, and w a> I'oreed to lea\e the scenes of earth
which he so hcaitilx enjo\e(l. When he leai'ned
that his old li-ieud ( 'olonel Inii'ersoll woidd >peak
at his Cuiieral, he maiiiresled a po>ili\e plea-ure.
and more than once alluded to it in the da\^ pre-
ceding' ilis di>solullou. lie died a~- he lived, a
Fi'eethinkcr. He had no I'ailh in reliuiou^ ol' anv
kimi, which he always looked upon n^ hut dill'ereut
loi'ms ol" superstition. Inn he did po»e>- in a rare
decree thai lart;ei- I'ailh I hat , wlialevcr happened,
living' or dead, woidd he natural, and iherelore
16
iJiogvaphri.
riiii w liicli he sutl'crrd was
dropsy, and s'wwv liis liisl attack. la>t .laniiai-y. In-
lias hccii ni'adually lailiiiu'. till the end, w liicli
cauic pcacclullv and calndv. — "JiJ. ,1A"
Ifxxncval ^evinces.
^uucval ^evinces.
I'liK last ceremonies over tlic body of the Ix-lovod editor
of 'riiK iNVKSTKiATOK, MoisACE Skavkii, wei'c pciToniied on
Sunday afternoon, in I'ainc Hall. Col. Robert 0. lny
sympathetic and sorrowing friends, — imndreds tiiriicil away
from the doors being unable to pass through the dense crowd
that tlironircd about the entrance. It was necessary to issue
invitations of admission a lew days before the funeral to
special friends, in order tliat tliey might be assured seats in
the hall. I-ong before two o'clock every chair was lilled, and
soon after tliat hour the doors were tinown open to tlie assem-
blage in the .street ; but the building could not accommodate
one fpiarter part of the many who sought admission.
The casket stood in fi'ont of the platform, displaying half
tlie ligure and the features of the deceased. A wreath of
Mowers lay at the heatl of the cotlin ; a bouipiet reposed on the
dead Kdilor's breast; anil then, occupying the rest of the
space on the casket, was a llorai torch wilii the inscription,
"Gone before." A line crayon portrait of Mil. Skavek rested
on a draped easel on the lell side of the stage, on wliich hung
a wreath of Mowers, with a card bearing the words, " A good
iieart has cca.sed to beat ; a great heart is silent."
20 ^xxucval ^cvxUccs.
The rmu'ial services began with the singing of the follow-
ing li.vmn, i)y tiic Temple liuartette.
LAY ME LOW.
Lay me low, my work is done,
I am weary, lay me low ;
Where the wild (lowers woo the sun,
Wlipie the balmy breezes blow;
Where the butterfly takes wing,
Where the aspens drooping grow:
Where the young birds chirp and sing.
I am weai7, let me go.
I liave striven hard and long.
In the world's unequal light,
Always to resist the wrong,
Always to maintain the right:
Always with a stubborn heart
Taking, giving blow for blow;
Brothers, I liave played my part —
I am weary, let me go.
Shield and buckler, hang them up.
Drape the standard on the wall;
I have drained tlie mortal cup
To the finish, dregs and all.
When my work is done, 'tis best
To let all my troubles go:
I am weary, let me rest —
I am weary, lay me low.
g u 1 CI y .
BY
Col. Robert G. Ingersoll.
Horace Skavkk was a pioiu'iT, a torcli-ln'aivr,
a toiler in that t;i-ca1 ticid we call the world, — a
woi'ker I'oi' Ills tellow-iiuMi. At the end of" liis
task he has fallen aslee]>, and we are nu't to tell
the story of his lon<;- and useful life, — to pay oni-
tribute to his work and worth.
lie was one who saw tlu' dawn while others
lived in ni<>^ht. He ki'|)t lii< face towaid the
•■ pni'i)lin ulijeci was
to know, to lind a ri'ason for hi> faith, — a fait on
which to build.
In sn|)er>tilion's sand- he son<;"hl the <;eins o|"
trnlli ; in superstition's ni^hl lie looked lor stars.
Born in New En<;land, — reared amid I he cruel
superstition- of his ayi' and time, — lu' had the
22 gulooy.
iii;mli(>(i(l Mild the cdnraiic \n iint'stig'atc, .-111(1 lie
liiid tlic iioodiicss and the coiiragt' to tell his
hoiK'st tliouylits.
He was always kind, and s(iiii;iit to win the
conHdcncc of nu'ii liy synipaliiy and lovr. TIrtl'
was no taint or tonch of" malice in his blood. To
him liis fellows did not si'em (U'|)i-aved, — they
were not wholly bad. — there was within the heart
oi' each tiie seeds of g-ood. He knt'W that back of
every tlioii from which have issued
oidy truth. Over all wi'alth. al)o\c all station,
above the nolile. the robed, antood lie-
yond the reach ol"sympathy. He was not allowed
to testify a":ainst the invadt'r of his home, the
2() l;iilogu.
seeker for his life. Ilis lips wi'i-c closi'd. He
was declared dishoiiDi-alilc hecaiist' hv was honest.
His iinl)elief made hiiu a soeial lc])er, a pariah, an
(Hitcast. He was the victim of I'cliiiious hate and
scorn. Arrayed aj;ainst him wvw all tlu' foix-es
and all the hypocrisies of society.
All mistakes and lies wei'e his enemies. Even
the Thi'ist was denounced as a (listurl)t'i' of the
peace hecause he told his thoughts in kind and
candid words, llv was called a hlaspiiemer l)c-
eause he sought to rescue tlu' rejjutation of his
God from the slanders of Orthodox priests.
Such was the bigotry of the time that natural
love was lost. The unhelieving son was hated hy
his pious sire, and even the mothei-'s heai't by her
creed turned into stone.
Horace Seavei! ])ui-sm'd his way. He woi'kcd
and wrought as ])est he could, in solitude and
want. He knew the day would come. He livt'd
to l)e rewarded for his toil, — to see most ol' the
laws repealed that had made outcasts oi' tlie
noblest, the Avisest, and the best. He lived to see
the foremost preachers of the world attack the
sacred creeds. He lived to see the sciences re-
leased from superstition's eintch. He lived to see
the Orthodox theologian take his place with the
3;xiUniU. 27
prof'essoi- of till- l)lacl< ;irt. tlu' luit uiu'-tclUT. and
Hstroloj^ei". He lived to see tlie Ijest and greatest
of tile world a(cc|it his thouglit, — to set' the theo-
logian displaced by the great and tiiie priests of
Nature, — bv ITuiulioldt and 1 )ar\\in. In Huxley
and Haeekel.
Within the nai-i'ow coniiJass of his life the
world was ehanged. Tiu' railway, the steauiship,
the telegraph, made all nations neighbors. Count-
li'ss inventions have made the luxiu'ies of tlic past
tile necessities of to-day. 1/dr has bern rin'ichcd
and man innoblcd. The gfeologist has read the
records of IVost and llamc. of wind and I'ain;
the asti'ononicr lias told ilic story of the stars,
the biologist has sought the gX'rin of life. — and
in every department of knowli'dge the torch of
science sheds its sacred light. The ancient crci'ds
have grown absurd; the miracles are small and
mean; the ins|)ired book is filled with fables told
to please a childish woild. and the dogma of tter-
nal pain now shocks tlii' heart and brain.
He li\fd to see a monument unveiled to nriiiio
in the cit\ of K'ome. — to (iiordano Bruno, — that
great man who two hundred and eighty-nine years
ago sull'ered death by lire for having |)roclaimed
the truths that siuci- have Idled the world with
28 i'uloQiv
joy. He livt'd to sih' tlic victim of tlu' cIhu'cIi a
victor, — lived to see iiis ineinorv lionoi-ed by a
nation freed from Pajjal chains.
He worked knowing what tlie end innst he, —
expecting little while he lived, — Init he knew that
every fact in the wide universe was on his side.
He knew that truth can wait, — and so he w(' what is ill oi-
well! How little of this wondi-ous stream of
cataracts and pools — this stream oC life that rises
in a world nukuown and Hows to that mysterious
sea whose shore the i'ool of one who comes hath
never pressedl How lillle of this liie we know —
this stra":yliny wav of li^hl "twixt "loom and
jj^loom, this sti-ip of land hy verdure clad hetween
the nidccati'"
forevei' falls apart.
i)nt thi> we know: A noble life enriches all
1 he woi-ld.
1I(H;.\( !•: Si;a\ i;i; li\e(l foi- other-. lie ae-
eepted toil and hope defcri'cd. l*o\eity was lii-
portion. lake Socrates, he did not seek to .idorn
his body, i)nl ralhci' hi> soul with I lie jewels of
charily, modi-sty, e<»uraye, and. abo\e all, with a
lo\ f of liberl \.
32 i'ulooij.
Farcwt'll, O brave and modest man!
Your lips, between wiiieli trutli Iniist into
blossom, are forever elosed. Your lovinu,' lieart
has ceased t<> heat. ^ Oiir busy brain is slill, and
from your hand has dropped the sacred torch.
Your noble, sell-denying' lili- has honored us,
and we will honor you!
You were my friend, and I was youis. Above
your silent clay, I pay this tribute to your worth.
Farewell !
Fxincval ^evinces. 33
At the conclusion of the eulogj- the quartette sang,
" I am Wandering Down Life's Sliady I'ath.''
After the singing those present were given an opportunity-
to take a final look at the face of Mr. Skavkk. Hundreds
availed themselves of this privilege. The pall-bearers were
Messrs. Wyzeman .Marshall. James Parton, Geo. N. Hill, C.
1'. Somerhv, .lolm A. 0'Malle\'. Russell Marston. and Krncst
Mendum.
The hearse and line of carriages moved to Korest Hills
Cemetery, where he was laid at rest at his mother's side. As
the funeral procession reached Forest Hills, it was joined l\v
Colonel Ingersoll's carriage. Friends gathered with uncovered
heads, and the casket was lowered into the grave amid a deep
silence. Colonel Ingersoll stood beneath a young maple-tree,
looking with sorrowful interest at the resting-place of his friend.
Those present evidently expected a few words, but a feeling
" good -by " was all that could be heard. The Colonel was too
deei)ly affected to say more, and as the workmen levelled oil'
the grave, and loving hands laid the flowers upon it. Colonel
Ingersoll and the assembled friends turned siU-nlly and sadly
nwav.
^Icsohitious.
JUsolutious.
Al ;i iiirctiiiji' 1)1" llic Cliicatii) Si'culni- rninii,
Proffssor MilK-soii. ('li;iinii;iii. the iulldw iiiii' I'l'so-
lutious, oIlriTil In inic (il'diii- iiu'IiiIk'I's, vvciv read
l)y Mrs. M. A. Frccinaii, ami adopted uiiani-
inoiisly: —
Whereafi, the grand army of Free Thoiiglit on our C'uiili-
nent has recentlj- sustaiiu'd nii irreparable loss in tlu' tlcatli of
Horace Seaver, the veteran editor of Thk Boston Invkstiga-
Tou, who for more than half a century has been the leader of
a dauntless host of men and women enlisted in the ennobling
cause of human rights ;
And whereas, Horace Seaver, as a man, has always com-
manded the respect of his associates and fellow-men, and has
ever been deserving at the hands of all Freethinkers, of llic
liighi'st honor for his uuscilish devotion to the principles of
mental freedom ;
Rexnived, That we, members of the Chicago Secular Union,
with the deepest emotions of sorrow, deplore the loss of this
great and good man ;
38 2tcsoUittous.
Resolved, That we lierebj- extend our fullest measure of
sympath)- to Josiah P. Mendum, his surviving partner and co-
worker in a long and wcU-fought battle for the rights of man ;
Resolved, That we express our approbation of the course
of The Boston Investigatok, in opposing all forms of slaverj',
and in attacking ecclesiastical wrongs and abuses. May it live
to see truth triumphant, and man free, the world over.
Yours, &c.,
Augusta A. Holmes,
Secretary C. S. U.
The following resolutions weir !uloj)ted by
the Tngersoll Secular Society: —
Wliereas, The Ingersoll Secular Society has met with an
irreparable loss in the death of our aged friend and Brother,
Horace Seaver ;
Resolved, That while we bow to the inevitable, we deeply
lament his loss, not only to our Society, but to the world ;
Resolved, That we hereby express our respect and esteem
for our late President, whose kindly presence we shall miss,
and whose wise words we shall hear no more ;
Resolved, That a copj- of these Resolutions be entered
upon the records of our Society, and that a copy be sent to The
Boston Investi(;atok, and the Paine Memorial Corporation.
+tcivucc ^cuucv^s oo\civU.
Horace f^caucv'S Mloiii.
Tlic (listin<'uisliino; characteristic- of IIokace
Skavkk was ck'votiun to his wdi-Ic. OtiuT men
have written with l)i'il wliat he believed to l)e wi-ony. and lor
what he believed to i)e right.
lu all ages the test of moral eourage ha> been
to speak oue's houi'st thoughts, and specially
oiieV I lioughls ii|t<>ii religion- subjects. llouAcK
Ska\ i:k was ne\er asiiamed of his conviclious,
and iievi'r ali'aid to utter them, lie lo>l friends
44 Boviicc i^cuucv's 32Xovh.
tliiit wvvv not worth kt'i'piiij;', and won (rk'nds
woi'tli liavinij;-, by liis tearloss course. IIo illiis-
fratcd I)}' a lonu' Hi'*' 'li' l)ravi' speakiiiy tliat a
man yains most hy hi'ing- time and lionost.
It is sonu'limc's said of a man tliat Nature in-
tended liim lor a minister or a law3er; hut, how-
ever tiiis may be, it is a very difficult matter foi-
a person to decide just what lie is inteiuled t'oi'.
The tirst choice that a vouny man makes of a
trade or occupation may not always be the best
I'oi' himst'li', noi' tlu' one wliich he is best adapted
for. It is a fact that a j:,'reat many men have
achieved distinction in a direction contrary to
their tastes and desires. After all, it matters
less where we work than how wi' work. Genius
finds the sky, and dullness finds the ground, no
matter if the one is born in a palace and the other
in a hovel.
It may be true that IIokace Seavek would
have been famous as an actor, had he adopted
the stage as a profession, to which he was early
inclined, as he has confessed; or as a minister,
had he studied theology and entered tlie pulpit
as his parents wished, for he possessed talents
that would Inive adorned almost any walk or
calling. But he always counted it fortunate
Boviicc i'Ciiucv's (JiTlovh.
45
tliJit 111- Ix'Cium' a |)riiitt'r; and once, in s])cakini;-
on tliis suhjoct, he said: "To he a inintcr is
greater tiian to lir a soldii-r, or an actor, and
nuicli lii'i'ati'r than to l)c a minister." It st'onis
as though iiis iil'c-woi-k was dctcrniiniMl lor hint.
Certain it is tliat iiad iu' cuti-red nny otiici- print-
ing-office than that oT tlie 1xvksti(;at<)I!. tlic in-
cidents that fixed lii> caret'i' wouhl lia\ t' hct-n
nnknown to iiini, or hi' wonlil lia\r ln-cn so sit-
naled as not to Ik- inlhienceil \)\ them. It was
the step into an InfiiU'l ])rintin<;-office that settU-d
the part that II()i!A( K Ska\ Ki; was to |il,iy n|)on
tile stage ol' life. Had lie apphed lor work in a
Christian otliee. he might have liecome a good
piintei', — he niiglit even liave l)eeonie a great and
good man outside ol' tiic cliarmcd circlr of ()rliio-
doxy, wherein all the hnman \ irlncs are supposed
to dwell; hnt he would not lia\e occupied that diili-
eult, hut nohle, i)ost which his lilt- has adorned,
and with which his iianie is idcntiHid.
To say that the atnios|)liere of the IwKsii-
(;atii|ii'rstilioii iii;ii ;illo\\ed
him to accept all tlii' sentiments lh;it lie piil into
t\pi'. The soil, lio\\e\ir, \\a- nearer reail\ than
46 Horace ^caucv's ?^ovU.
Ill' iniagiiKHl. and tin- sci'ds (jf nu'iital {'reeclom, that
wcri' destined to boar sucli a magniticent harvest,
fell upon ground that needed hut littU' prepai-i-
tion.
Perhaps the one ineident that hastened to
fruition the gi-owing sentiments in thi' mind ol'
Horace Se.wek was the eonvietion ol" Ahner
Kneeland for blasphemy.
Justice was a })art of this man's nature, and
he rejected the Christian scheme largely on ac-
count of the inherent injustice in the logic of its
dogmas. He wanted the right, the trui', the just,
to prevail, and the work of his jjen and voice was
always hi behalf of justice to man.
When Mr. Kneeland was sent to jail for ex-
pressing his honest dissent from the Universalist
idea of God, the last cord of sympathy that bound
iiim to Christianity was broken. That the public
avowal oi' one's opinions upon religious mattei's
was a crime punishable with imprisonment shocked
all his notions of equity. Horace Seaver was,
from the hour that Abner Kneeland passed through
the door of the jail, an avowed enemy of the Chris-
tianity which inspired the persecution of this good
man. Referring to this time in a recent address
delivered in Paine Hall, Mr. Seaver said: —
Hovace ^caucv's SClovU. 47
"I was in tlir ollicc uluii Mr. Kiicilaiid was
sent to prison, and I rcnicnibt'i- one day going- to
the Jail to visit him, and looking at him through
the prison bars, 1 said to him. ' Mr. Kneelaiid, I
can now understand what Thomas Jett'erson meant
when he said, " I have sworn u|)on tlie altar of God
eti'rnal hostility to every Torm ol' tyranny over the
mind of man!"' Mr. Kneeland said, Oly young
friend, always swear by that motto.' I havr al-
ways tried to."
When Mr. Seaveh ix'tui-ncd from that visit he
knew what his work was to be. IK' at once as-
sumed llic editorial iiianagemiiit of the Iwi'.s'n-
<;A'I'(>k, and commnieed thai famous battle lor
"universal mental liberty" and the rights of man
whieh ended righl. not only as a matter of ab>tract
justice, but as a mailer of" political expediencv. is
a proposition that carries its own evidence along
with it. 'I'lie i-iglil lo ihiids IVeel\ npoii all -nb-
Jccts belongs to us nalnrall\. and no govcinmeni
can deprive us of it."
48 Ho face ^caucv's SClovli.
HoKACE Seaver deleiulcd this i-ij;lif willi nil
tlic native force of liis intelk'ct, and with a tenac-
ity that is certain to win i-espect, il' not \ ictory.
We do not claim that no other man conhl have
done the woi-k wliicii Mi;. Skavki; did. We only
claim lor him the credit ol' what hi' did. IK'
championed an nn)X)]>ular cause; he sided with the
wron<;x'd and oppressed, with only one thought
to i)rompt his act, — that hv was doing- right.
This is a high motive I'oi' hmiian action. We
to-day enjoy comparative freedom. It is easy
now to speak the trnth, — easier than it was fifty
year.s ago. We are eating fruit from the tree that
Horace Seaver, and other men like him, set ont
half a century ago, and which they watclu'd witii
jealous care. It is not the brilliant effort, but the
])atient labor, that has erected human monuments.
It is not the lightning's tlash, Itul the constant
radiance ol' the sun, that lights the cai'th. It is
not the daring act of a moment, but the coui'age-
ousness of a lifetime, that overcomes the obstacles
in the path of progress.
We may not be able to point to any particular
act of Horace Seaver, oi- pick out any work of
his pen, that shines with that splendor that at-
tracts the eye, but we can do something I'ai- better:
HoviKC i«c friend.'
Horace Seaver, no deceiver,
A tniin direct in all his ways:
Strong of stature, true to Nature,
Fills lie the measure of his days.
In liis history there 's no mystery —
No mylh or fetich he adored;
He, a true man, loved each human.
Anil superstition's shame deplored.
Horace Seaveb, high believer
In every sentiment sublime;
Iconoclastic to the plastic
Mud-balls by the river Time.
Valiant hater of the traitor —
Dogmas that were built to blind.
Undismayed " Investigator,"
Faithful to the rights of mind.
Horace Seaver, with the lever
Of the potent printing press,
Man has lifted, truth has sifted,
An.
Ingersoll. ,
70 a'vlbutcs from the ^vcss.
FROM FREE THOUGHT SAN FRANCISCO).
Last Sunday afternoon, sa3-s a brief dispatch in :i morn-
ing paper, the funeral of Horace Seaver, late editor of The
Boston Investigatok, was held in Paine Memorial Hall.
Colonel IngersoU delivered the eulogy, according to the re-
quest of the deceased.
So passes away the oldest Liberal editor, and the editor
of the oldest Liberal paper in the world. We cannot say that
he has passed to a higher life, because we do not know ; but
to us it seems there could be no higher life than that which he
led as the advocate of religious liberty and the enemy of super-
stition.
Mr. Seaver left but brief records for the use of his biog-
raphers. He did not tell of his troubles, for during the past few
years he suffered much more than the readers of his paper were
permitted to know. In 1888 a volume of selections from his
writings, edited by L. K. Washburn, was published under the
title of " Occasional Thoughts." It would seem that this should
have included at least a brief sketch of the life of so remarka-
ble a man, but it did not. We know, however, that in early-
life Mr. Seaver learned the printer's trade, and that when in
consequence of religious persecution Mr. Kneeland was obliged
to sever his connection with the Investigator, Mr. Seaver and
his associate, Josiah P. Mendum, assumed control of it, tlie
one as editor and the other as pulilisher. For more than fifty
years thereafter no issue of the Investigator appeared that
did not contain something from the pen of Horace Seaver.
In early life, we are told, Mr Seaver married a lady with
whom he lived in unalloj'ed happiness until her death. He
never remarried.
^'vilnxtcs fvom the 2*vc6b. 71
We hope that a full and faithful account of the life and
labors of Horace Seaver will be written and published. It
would be a most instructive and helpful work. lie pos-
sessed more than ordinary- powers either as a writer or an
orator. He did not achieve what the world calls great suc-
cess. He held no high office of position or power. He had
a broad and capacious mind, a good memory, the faculty to
apply an observation where it would have the most force, a
lidelity to facts, an equable temper, a ready pen, and a good
address as a public speaker. He was as faithful as the sun,
and these qualities won for him from thousands the high
esteem and the love which tiie genius and talent of more
brilliant men has failed to gain, though applied to upholding
sacred errors and flattering the vanity and ministering to the
prejudices of the world. As a lesson and an inspiration, his
life is not surpassed by that of any character which this century
has produced.
ViEux Temps, in Hampshire County Journal.
The death of Horace Seavkk, for til\v-one years editor
of The Boston Investigator, is a marked event in the history
of journalism. The long ])eriod for which this man has advo-
cated, almost single-handed, against sneers, cruel misrepre-
sentation and abuse, the Liberal sentiments of his well-known
predecessor, Abner Kneeland, has witnessed a tremendous
revolution of pulilic sentiment in New Kngland touching theo-
logical matters, in which Mr. Skavkr has borne a prominent
and honorable part. Of a calm, judicious, and sinc^ere tem-
perament, he has courageously and persistently vindicated,
through constant difficulties and discouragements, the incsti-
72 JTvlbutcs from the ^^vcss.
mablc right of free discussion on all disputed questions, with-
out malice or detraction of his theological opponents, and never
losing the serenity' of his temper. The Invkstigatou will he
fortunate if it shall find an editorial successor who will display
equal wisdom, prudence, and trutlil'ulness.
His death brings to mind my brief acquaintance with
Abner Kneeland in 1.S42-3. He was tiien residing at Salubria,
a precinct of Farmington. Van Buren Co. (Iowa), and fre-
quently visited the main village. His personal appearance
was verj- striking and prepossessing. With snow-white hair,
cheeks full and ruddy as those of a boy, and active movement,
he did not seem to be past the age of fift\'. I had previousl}-
known of his experience in Boston, and wished to learn from his
own lips some account of it. Space forbids anj-thing like a
full recital of what I learned from him. More than fifty years
ago he was, as editor of the Investigator, prosecuteil for
blasphemy, and sentenced to imprisonment and fine The
prosecution, strange to say, or now believed, was instigated
by some fanatics whose names I cannot recall. The so-called
blasphemous words, elicited during an editorial controvers}'
between the Investigator and a Universalist journal, were —
" The Universalists believe in a God which I do not," evidently
meaning that he did not believe in the kind of God that the
Universalists did. It is said that the compositor placed a
comma before the pronoun "which " that altered the sense of
the phrase, and made it appear as a disbelief in an}- God.
Mr. Kneeland was not an Atheist. He believed in a
governing power, but, like a sensible thinker, would not under-
take lo doflne it logically or mathematically. He was, even at
that early day, an Agnostic, when the term, even, was not
Jl'vibutcs fvom the ih*c5s. 73
khown. lie endured his term of imprisonment and paid iiis
line witli perfect equanimity, and, when released, went on in
the same course This outrageous prosecution, so disgrace-
ful to its instigators and tlie State, is now viewed with wonder,
astonislmiont, and indignation. Tlie abominable enactment
under wiiich this com iction was ol)taincd still stands upon the
statute books of Massachusetts, — a dead letter to all intents
and purposes, but none the less an atfront to an enlightened
(niblic sentiment.
Mr. Kneeland was not permitted to remain wholly in
quiet in his new home. At an election in August, 1842, one
of the candidates for election to the Legislature, a personal
Ibllower of Mr. Kneeland's, was piiblic'ly insulted and driven
■from the hustings at Farraington ; and on the evening of elec-
tion day, Mr. Kneeland was hanged and l)urned in efligy by a
score of rougiis, on the most pul)lic thoroughfare. I saw him
the next morning, smiling and unrullled in temper. " Why,"
said he, " these very men, — and 1 know ever^' one of them, —
who are so jealous for God and the Bible, would shoot a man on
tiie slightest provocation, and go ten miles to see a dog-ligUt."
Leaving that part of the West soon after this occurrence, I am
unal>le to say at what time or place Mr. Kneeland died ; but 1
esteem it a fortunate event of my life that I was permitted
to know hitn personally, and be a witness of his unvarying
humanitv, tnodestv of conduct, and unassumiiiir Itcneficence.
74 5:'vtbutc6 from the ITvcss.
From secular thought Toronto, Canada'.
It is with feelings of piofouiKl regret that we lejirii of the deatli
of that trill}' honest and bravo man, Horace Seaveu, at the
advanced age of 79. As editor of The Boston Investigator,
he displaj'ed an ability and geniality of disposition that few
men could equal. lie was a veteran in the cause of Fi'ec
Thought, which, in every sense, he served faithfully and well.
In him were concentrated those manj- qualities which constitute
true greatness of character. Sincere in his convictions, stead-
fast in his pursuits, and noble in his conduct, he won the love
of all with whom he came in contact. His benevolent self-
sacrificing acts speak with "trumpet-tongue" the goodness of
his nature and the purity of his life. He is gone, but the
glory of his deeds remains enshrined in the hearts of his manj-
friends, and will serve as a sublime object worthy of the emu-
lation of all who aspire to lives of industry, honor, and un-
sullied integrity. — "Peace be to his memory."
From Lucifer (Kansas).
The demise of the venerable editor of The Hoston Inves-
TKiATOK, noticed elsewhere, was not unexpected. Some weeks
ago we were notified of his serious illness, and at the advanced
age of 79 it is not at all surprising that his vital forces should
fail to rail}- under the best of medical assistance. Particulars
concerning the closing hours of this oldest and perhaps best
known of all the Free Thought editors have not yet been re-
ceived at this office.
yvi bates from the ^vess, 75
From Hampshire 'Mass.' County journal.
Col. Robert G. Ingersoll's latest and most touching cft'ort
was delivered Sunday, Aug. 25, at the funeral of noble Horace
Skavkr, editor of the Invkstiuatou. Mr. Sf.avkk visited
Abner Kneeland, tlie first editor of ttiat paper, in prison, wlicn
he was sentenced for blasphemy. The alleged blaspiieniy was
uttered in 1837. His imprisonment made Seaver an Infidel,
and all his life he has fought "Orthodox" bigotry and Cal-
vinism with tireless energy. He was a friend of Colonel Inger-
soli, and it was fitting that he should preside at the funeral
services, and as Mr. .Seavek and his paper are widely known
all over the counUy, an added interest will be given to the funeral
oration.'
From Celestial City, Cal.'.
We regret to chronicle the death, which occurred Aug. 21,
of HoKACE Seaver, the veteran editor of The Boston Inves-
tigator. Of strict integrity, faithful to friends, manly and
inassed, it
is hoped, into that life where we shall all meet again.
One of the strongest cords that have bound you to the
old IvESTiOATOK, for the success of which, and in which you
80 |:cttcvs.
have so long lived and labored, is broken, and can never he
replaced ; but there is a melancholy pleasure for you to know
that von had him for so long a time with j'ou, and tliat you
enjoyed his society so much and so well. We are probably
the only two persons living who have known him so long and
intimately, and to me lie always seemed more like a broliicr
than anything else.
You and those connected with the oHice and paper will
miss him more and more, until time, the great healer of all sor-
row, shall remove the heavy burden that has crushed the
wounded heart.
I received, probably from some one in the office, the Iler-
ald containing the notice and remarks of his death, also the
eulogj' by Colonel Ingersoll. The editorial in the Investigator
was well written, and a good one. I do not know that more
could be said.
Please give my kind regards to all connected with the
office, and please receive personally my sincere sympathy in
this hour of your affliction. T. Prince.
MuscOTAH, Kan., August 31, 1889.
My Dear Mendum : — I have seen a telegram stating the
death of Mu. Seaver. The end must come — has come to
him, aud will come to us all full soon. Let us trj- to live up
to the lofty example of Mr. Seavkr, — absolute devotion to
truth, forgetful of all lemporar}' self-interests. Such are the
saviors of the world. But it is only a little, a very little, the
greatest man can do. Multitudes and centuries come and go,
betters. 81
Init progress tivcps witli a snail's pace along the path of evolu-
tion and bistor\-. The men of ideas, of conscience, are onl}-
here and there, and the masses improve onlj- slightly from age
to age. Human institutions advance only as the race advances,
little by little, each teacher contributing his mite much as the
little marine insects build up the coral reefs from the bottom
of the ocean. Boast as we may we are only insects of a higher
order, helpless and powerless in the hands of destiny — liorn,
live, and die in the hands of a power as absolute and immova-
ble bj- any strength of our own as are flies and mosquitos.
We strut and imagine we are somewhat. I suppose flies do ;
and thus each plays his little part on the stage of his life
and world, — with death at last to end all, and it comes so
speedily with the autumn frost, to fly and to man.
You can hardl}- suijplj- Mr. Seaver's place at the head of
the Investigator. But you must do the best that can be done.
You can hardly And the man j-ou need, — constant hard work,
ability, special talent, experience, without hope of reward.
Where will you look for all these qualifications in one man?
But the Investigator must go on, and must not he impaired.
I am sure you will find a man somewhere, but where I cannot
tell. Hoping for your success. I am,
Very trul}- yours,
A. J. G rover.
Sai.km, Ohio, September I, 1889.
Dear Fkiknd Mkndum: — I wish to say that the death
of IloKAi E Seaver bus wrought upon my feelings to such an
extent that my mind has been occupied almost continually with
82 Xcttcvs.
the presence of this grand man ever since the news of his
death reached me. For about thirtj- years I have been a con-
stant reader of the Investigator, and manj-are the obligations
I feel under to him for the light he has given me. I have not
the ability- to express my high appreciation of him, but as the
years have rolled around I have learned to love him with a fer-
vor like that of a son's love for a father. I look upon Horace
Seaver as one of the greatest men that ever lived, and the
tribute to his memory by Colonel R. G. Ingersoll, beautiful as
it is, does not tell the story equal to his greatness. My sympa-
thies are with you in your great bereavement. With sorrow
and sadness, T am, yours truly,
M. L. Edwards.
New York, August 23, 1889.
J. P. Mendum, Esq. — My Dear Sir : — Your notice that
3'our bosom friend and partner, the editor of the enduring
Investigator, has passed away, fills us with profound grief.
For years we have looked to him as the Father of the Faithful ;
and now that we cannot see him, and no longer read his weeklj-
messages of loving wisdom and saving common sense, it seems
as though we were orphaned indeed. For us, for the large
circle thus left bereaved, let the sympathy and mourning be —
not for him! — for his years were golden, his seed was sown
and ripened. AVell had he earned his rest ! It is Nature's
reward. May there be strong and worthy successors to gather
and continue the work into which his noble life has passed.
Yours with sincerest sympathj',
T. B. Wakeman.
fetters. 83
Portland, Oregon, August 22, 1889.
Friend Mendum : — I received your letter last week stat-
ing that Mr. Skaver's coiulitiou gave but little hope of his
living beyond a few daj's, and this morning I read with sadness,
though not with surprise, a dispatch announcing his doath.
Knowing how long he and jou were associated, how close were
your relations, and how deep and strong your friendship for
each other, and how great and valuable were his public service,
I almost forgot my own personal sorrow in sj-mpathy for you
in this great bereavement, and in contemplating the irreparable
loss the Liberal cause has sutfered in the death of the honored
and venerable editor of The Boston Investigator.
My acquaintance, correspondence, and intercourse with
Mr. Seaver extends through tiiirty years. I first became
acquainted with him in 1857. The last letter I received from
him was written at his home last May, I think. Hut few men
knew him better than I, and can appreciate and endorse nil
that you have said in regard to his unselfish devotion and
inestimable services to the cause of Free Thought. Others
started and turned back, or faltered by the way; but Horace
Seaver continued faithful and loyal to his convictions from
j-outh to the end of a long and honorable life. lie battled
bravely for the truth in "times that tried men's souls," and
lived to see in the intellectual and religious condition of to-da^-
the result, in a degree to which his modesty and lack of self-
appreciation would never allow him to take credit, of his years
of patient and unremitting labors.
Colonel Ingersoll, I see, is to give tlie funeral address.
Even his eloquence can scafce do justice to Horace Seavek
and his work, though to his work the eloquent orator of Liber-
84 Xcttcvs.
alism is himself greatly indebted, as we all are. I did not
expect when I bid him good-by in his office last April that I
should ever see Mr. Seaver again ; but tlie thought, now tliat
he is dead, that I shall meet him no more, is sad and i)ainful.
The influence of his life and Avork remains, and we who survive
him, inspired bj- his example, must continue the work to which
he, through evil and through good report, devoted his entire
life. I write from a full heart, but resti-ain ni}- pen. I can no
longer saj', as I have so many j^ears, " Regards to Mu. Sea-
ver," but I send best regards to all who have been associated
with him at Paine Memorial, and best wishes for the future of
the paper, which, under Mr. Seaver's management and your
own, has done such far-reaching and noble work.
Mrs. Underwood, who joins me in the sentiments expressed,
sends best regards and s^-mpathj- in your great loss and trouble.
Yours, &c.,
B. F. Underwood.
New York, Aug. 29, 1889.
J. P. Mendim, Esq., Boston, (Mass.) — Dear Friend: —
On seeing to-day the notice of the death of Horace Seaver,
I was inexpressibly shocked, and felt almost as if one of my
own family had died ! I, as well as every Freethinker, must feel
his loss deepl}', and I especially" sympathize with j'ou as his
almost long-life friend and associate. It had always been mj-
highest wish to be able to visit Boston and shake the hands
of both you and liira, whom both I consider as dear friends,
although we never met personally.* Since 1849 (now 40 years)
I have read the Investigator, and come to look upon both of
^'cttcvs. 85
j'ou as brothers and kin. While feasting ra}- ej-es upon the
noble countenance of my friend Seaver in the Investigator,
(jour likeness I have and treasure in m}' album), I looked for-
ward with J03-OUS anticipations to an intended visit to Boston,
where 1 proposed and purposed to meet you personally. Alas !
it was not to be, and death has rudely torn him away who was
a shining light among men ! How soon both of us may follow,
who can tell?
Horace Seaveu has lived for mankind's good, — he helped
to make men wiser and better, and in life, as in death, was a
shining example to all men. Vuiir and our greatest consola-
tion is in the memory of his grand life, and the hope that it
has instigated worthy followers. The world is the better for
the lives of such men, and we can glory in looking back upon
him and such as he whose greatest reward ever was in their
own conscience and in the consciousness of being of great value
to their fellow-men. May he find worthy successors. Ma}'
you live long yet to navigate our worthy paper, and may you
bear philosophically, as he would have done, the loss of this
great and good man.
Of course I realize that none of us are children any more,
and that in the course of Nature we both may soon fall into
that sleep that knows no waking ; but 1 hope that you may be
spared many years of usefulness and activity yet, to instruct
and teach men "the way they ought to go." May you have
or find a worth}' successor in the editorship upon whom the
mantle of our departed brother may worihily fall, and may he
profit by the example set him so gloriously by our Hokack
.Seaver. Fraternally yours,
A. Kl.SIlEKligation
Ihcy are under to yourself and Mu. Seaver for the work done.
I have been a witness to your effort, and constant in my wishes
for your success, which I think may be regarded as fully
accomplished.
I am still in poor health from nervous prostration, which
will prevent me being present at Mu. Skaveu's funeral.
Fraternally vours,
A. T. Lilly.
100 fetters.
Prescott, Arizona, Aug. 24, 1889.
Friend Mendum : — We feel it a duty to give a parting
word to the dead, and to our beloved brother, Horace Seaver,
who has passed from life rich with all the fragrance of the
beautiful flowers of purity that he has planted during his short
day among us, which has made death a flowery way, and life
worth living. To the brave and true departed, with tearful
ej"es we sav, farewell ! Trul}' j'ours,
J. W. R.
Albany, N. Y. August 28, 1889.
Friend Mendum : — The notice of the death and burial of
Horace Seaver did not reach me until the day after his funeral.
What a glorious career was that of this honest and trul3- great
man! For over fifty years he stood, an unfaltering sentinel
on the confines of Free Thought, with weapon in hand, battling
for the right against the wrong, — for the emancipation of the
human intellect from the thraldom of the church — from the
superstition of the age, ind the traditions of a barbarous antiq-
uity'. And what was the weapon he used? The same that
was used by Voltaire and Paine : it was the Pen !
When we look back along the vista of the past, while he
stood at the rudder of the old Investigator, his career was
most remarkable. Ever true to his honest convictions as the
"needle to the pole," his editorials bristle with gems of pro-
found thought, and convincing and unanswerable argument.
If immortalit}' consists in the name one leaves behind him, his
is a glorious and brilliant immortality, growing in splendor as
the ages wear away.
I^ettcvs. 101
Horace Seaver was a benefactor to his race. It seems
to ine. for the benefit of humanit}-, such men as Horace Seayer
never ought to die ; or, tliat they ought to have two lives to
live, and know as much at the beginning of the second as thej'
did at tile termination of the first. But then, after all, when
we have spent a lifetime in battle for the benefit of mankind,
almost from the cradle to the grave, and the machine is worn
out in doing good for our fellow-creatures, and our sun has
set beneath the horizon, death comes as a welcome relief; and
there is a fascination in the thought that we shall be laid away
to rest forever ; that the struggles, perplexities, and disappoint-
ments of this mortal life shall cease forever to disturb and
molest us in the grave.
A. SCIIELL.
Snowviu.e, Va., August 27, 1889.
J. P. Menuuh, Esq., Boston, Mass: — In the death of
Horace Seaver, every reader of his beloved Investioatok
will feel that a personal friend has gone, leaving a void that
nothing and no one tan ever fill. Yet in the midst of our own
grief, we each and all recognize that there is one who will feel
that deeper sorrow that only those can feel whose nearest and
dearest friend has forever departed, leaving him henceforth as
one whoso counsellor and staff has been taken frf)Mi him.
Mk. Seaver and you have been so long looked upon as
complement parts of one another, that it now seems almost
impossible for us to conceive of the one as gone and the i>tlu'r
alone. But there is a sweet consolation lor us nil in the
thought, that there is no shadow or cloud on the record-page of
102 Inciters.
our brave and good old hero, Horace Seaver. His whole life
was one of love, humanit}', and kindliness. The influence of
his good words and good works is world-wide and everlasting.
Every memory I have of him — going back nearh- forty years
— is pleasant, and we can say this of so few.
I shall not attempt to pen an eulogy upon him, for our
brave and good IngersoU will do this better than any one else
can possibly do it. I merely wish to add my testimonial to
that of the thousands who will speak for the worth and value
of the noble life that has been so well lived. " A good mem-
ory is his best monument, a noble life his best epitaph."
Elmina Drake Slenker.
"Washington, D. C, Aug. 23, 1889.
Dear Mr. Mendum : — With deep regret and sorrow, I
have seen from a newspaper report, that Mr. Horace Seaver,
the editor of Tue Boston Investigator, is no more among the
living. He was doubtless one of the ablest and noblest leaders
of the cause of Free Thought in this country, a powerful
champion of universal mental liberty.
"Whenever I api)roached him with a communication for
publication in the Investigator, he always treated me — a
German Freethinker and a naturalized American citizen —
very kindl}' and very friendly. In addition to his rich mental
gifts. Nature had provided him with a big heart. Peace to
his ashes !
The newspaper report referred to, contained in one of the
evening papers of this city, of yesterdaj', reads : —
^cttcvs. 103
HoKACE Seaver, editor ol' Ihv Investioatok for tlic last
fifty-one j-ears, died in Boston j-esterdaj-, aged soventy-nino
years. Mr. Seaver was widely Iciiown as a writer and a
lecturer on Free Thought. He was also a strong anti-slavery
man, and a close friend of Phillips, Pillsbury, and Garrison.
The funeral takes place Sunday from Paino Memorial Hall,
and Col. Robert G. IngersoU, who was a warm friend of the
deceased, will pronounce the eulogy.
Respectfully yours,
J. G. riERTWir..
Davenport, Wash. Ter., Sept. 7, 1889.
My Dear Mr. Mendum : — I have just read of the death
of our dear hero and friend, Mr. Horace Seaver. I read also
R. G. Ingersoll's tribute to his memory.
A great and good man has passed away. His memory is
fresh, and his good deeds and writings are immortal. Horace
Seaver was a grand man. He did a great work, and those
who come after us, and live among arrant cowards, as they evi-
dently shall, will appreciate this honest and brave man. He
stood at the helm for over lilly years. What a grand record I
Not fifty years of sunshine, but fifty years of storm. Wliere is
the man of all those you have known that could have filled his
place, or done his work? He seemed born for the editorship of
the Investicatok. It may truly be said of him that he lived
long and well. He died in the mellow autumn of a ripe old age.
104 XctUvs.
He lived long enough to sec some of his grand ideas afcc])tcd
bj' the intelligent part of the world. How beautiful to see a
life rounded out with such comparative success. It was after
contemplating such a splendid life that the bard was inspired
to say, " Let me die the death of ^le righteous."
His clay now rests on the bosom of mother earth. To
Horace Seaver we all must sa}', Karewell ! But his deeds live
in our hearts. The grand old Investigator waves over his
silent dust. It still proclaims the glorious ideas of the "old
man eloquent," whose tongue is now silent, to the wide, wide
world, — justice, liberty, and equalitj*. Long may the flag of
the Investigator wave.
W. S. Bell.
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY, LOS ANGELES
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