Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1890-03-14
Sermon by the Corpse.
pHoSoeRApH AT A FUNERAL

A PHoNOGRAPH AT A FUNERAL.
Whoever before heard of dead man
preaching his funeral sermon over his own
remains? That occurred yesterday. Furth-
ermore, the dead wife of the corpse sang
HYMNS over the coffin. For the past four
years, says the New York journal, the
Rev. Thomas Allen Horne has resided at
Larchmont, and spending the declining
years of his life attending to little farm.
In Summer he watched with pleasure the
yachts sailing and steaming about the
Sound.
Eight years ago his wife, the partner of
thirty-seven years of his life, was carried
alive, and often at evening the sweet sound
of her beautiful voice pealed forth, sing
ing the hymn
We shall meet once more
On that beautiful shore.
Lately Mr.. Horne has been laid up with
pneumonia and last Friday he expired at
the age of seventy-seven.
He had left explicit instructions as to
his burial and the services to be held over
his remains, and yesterday his diningroom
and parlor were filled with mournerS who
had come to pay respect to his memory.
Shortly after o'clock the ceremony COM
menced, and from the table was heard the
sound of an angelic voice singing that
beautiful hymn
A few more years shall loll,
A few more seasons come,
And we shall be with those we love
In the land beyond the sun.
For some time feeling of superstitious
awe pervaded the apartment, as many dis
tinctly recognized the voice of Mrs. Horne,
but when they perceived that it came
through photograph they grew more
composed, though many wept as they re-
called the owner of that sweet voice.
AZ no II ae
Horne, a nephew of the deceased. made
some alterations in the machine and insert
ed a roll that contained the funeral sermon
of his uncle uttered by himself. Seldom
had more impressive one been listened to
1t sounded SO weird that two ladies tainted
and had to be carried out.
The well remembered voice of the de-
that his audience would hear him he would
be in that land
Where the wicked cease from troubling,
And the weary are at rest.
He went on to say that he would have
passed the portal of ignorance and would
have entered that existence where there
would be no further mystery. but where
all things would have been made plain.
1t is usual at funerals to eulOgiZe thu
dead, and the pastor who breaches the ser
mon seldom touches on the deceased mans
faults, but faithfully carries out the ole
preceDt De mortatls NIL n5s5 b01aatn1
On this occasion the virtues of the deaG
man were left alone, and instead there was
a long list of faults enumerated, for which
the mourners were asked to pray for Gods
pardon. There was stop, and the neph
ew put in another roll The voice took ur
the address where it had left Off 1t emu
merated the virtues of the deceased wife
and prayed God that the speaker might be
considered worthy to become member OF
that portion of Gods kingdom where she
might be enthroned.
At this point of the address the voice of
the deceased had evidently broken down,
and from the instrument the terrible
sounds of strong man weeping and I'M
able to restrain himself, broke out with
terrible realiSticforce, and caused a shuddeI
OF horror among those who were present at
this extraordinary service. The next few
sentences were uttered in broken voice,
and prayed God that if it pleased Him to
remove the speaker by a sudden death, or
to take him away i'll some unusual manner,
He would consider prayers after death as
efficacious as those before.
At the close of the address he called
upon his hearers to join him and his wife
N singing the hymn, ''There is Better
Land
The nephew arranged two instruments on
the table, and all at once the soprano of
the wife and the baritone of the husband
joined together in singing. Several of the
audience tried to join in the hymn, but
their voices were choked with emotion and
they were unable to proceed.
The interment took place in Woodlawn
Cemetery. After the coffin had been low
cred into the grave the impressive burial
service of the Episcopal church was read
over it, still in the voice of the deceased.
The end came without a hitch, the final
words being: God grant that in the
sweet by and by we may all meet in that
beautiful land
The Rev. Thomas Horne was familiar
figure to the yachtsmen of Larchmont, and
on any Summer day he might be seen with
his green spectacles, broad straw hat and
sun umbrella, sitting on the east cliff in
the vicinity of the old clubhouse reading
his book Washington Post