Year: 1861

walk abreast as good soldiers marching together
in united strength, ina common cause, and thai
being dead, he might yet speak and say, IS he
said SO often on his bed Of suffering Love one
another" that they should also be invited into
the Chancel and treated as brethren--all ol
which was done-Bishop Green, himself, that
great and good man, placing with his own hands
the chairs in the Chancel, and inviting them to
be seated, after the remains Of their CO onmon
brother were laid in front Of its railing, from
within which he had so often ministered in holy
things. The scene was one Of imposing beauty
and solemnity. The organ struck up its solemn
chant for the dead, and as its cadence vibrated
along the aisles and around the Chancel, it tseem-
ed to say, Love one another"


The funeral services were read by Bishop
Green after which Bishop Otey preached fn-
neral sermon, which was touchingly beautiful,
and eloquent Of words and feeling. The crowd
at Church was immense; business houses were
closed, and business suspended for the time
numbers not being able to enter the Church.
As the long procession left the Church and
wound its way along to the final HON, Of all
living, the sun was just sinking below the hori-
zon, and its lingering rays lighted up the heav-
ems with glowing radiant light-the floating
clouds were FURNISHED with golden circles; the
distant storin-cloud muttercd and mourned as il
in sympathy with mortality; and when the pro-
ccssion reached the Cemetery, and the coffin
was laid above the cold, open grave, the very
heavens seemed to grow solemn, and the patter.
ing rain-drops, as they fen upon the coffin, and
the signing winds, seemed to chant solemn re-
QUEEN for the departed At the head of the
grave stood two Bishops, with uncovered heads,
and as the solemn words of the burial service
cred, and every heart was full. The dear body
was then laid away to sleep in its narrow bed
until the final resurrection, when that which is
sown in weakness, shall be raised in power. I"
As We turned away sorrowing, the heart asked
in triumphant hope, 20, grave, where is thy vic
tory"


The following Sabbath morning dawned upon
the world all bright and glorious seemingly the
herald of joy, looking as If no sorrow had ever
preceded it The soft, warm rays Of the smi-
ling sun wrapped the little bcreaved and sorrow
ing Church in warm embrace of sympathy and
love, and the hour drew near when he, our be-
loved minister, was wont to wend his steps
thither to break to his people the bread Of life,
and point them to the road that leads up to the
gates Of the City. Passing by, we saw the
doors open, and heard the bell tolling in memory
Of the loved and departed Entering, We seated
oursclf in our accustomed pew, to think and
dream of the past. The Church was draped in
mourning, and no sound disturbed the solemn
stiffness, save the mournful ring of the bell as it
sent out upon the morning air its wailing pcals
of woe. Long and silently we sat there calling
up memories of the departed, and trying to real
ize the fact that he would return no more, or
ever kneel again at that altar Of prayer which,
in our inmost heart we ever felt was the poetry
Of religion. There rested the Bible out of
which he loved to read, and ever made his chart
through life, and in which we read, blessed are
the dead who die in the Lord, for they rest from
their labors, and their works do follow them"





We looked at the vacant Chanccl, the empty
Church, and The mourning emblems and asked
from the depth Of our bcrcaved heart 'where is
he whose eloquent words and pleading tones we
have SO loved to listen to, as he stood in that sa-
cred desk before us p and the answer seemed to
be, "God said, Come up higher and he has be-
come an high priest and this Sabbath morning
he is kneelins before the altar within the veil,
and shouting hosannas to the Lord God who re-
deemed him.


Almighty tree in the forest has fallen, and the
sound is heard afar of, and may it wake up the
echoes of his loving, warning voice when with
us and his dying admonitions to all around him.


SLOW beautiful il Is to die


Upon the walls Of Zion to be called


Like a watchman and weary sentinel


To put his armor of and rest in heaven"


AUNT ROSIE.