Year: 1869

The funeral services were ended, ana as the
voice of prayer ceased, tears were hastily wiped
from wet cheeks, and long drawn sighs relieved
suppressed and choking sobs as the " mourners
prepared to take leave of the corpse"


It was an old man who lav here, robed for
the grave. More than three score years had
whitened those locks, and furrowed that brow,
and made those stiff limbs weary Of life's jour
ney. and the more willing to lie down and rest
where WEAKNESS is no longer burden. The
aged have but few to weep for them when they
die The most of those who would have
mourned their loss have gone to the grave be-
fore them; harps that would have sighed sad
harmonies are shattered and gone; and the
few that remain are looking cradleward rather
than to Hfes closing goal are bound to, and
living in the generation rising, more than the
generation departing.


Youth and beauty have many admirers when
liying--how many mourners when dying; and
many fearful ones bend over their cofined clay
many sad hearts follow in their funeral train.
But age has few admirers, few mourners.


This was an old man, and the circle of
mourners was small-two children, who had
themselves passed the middle Of life, and who
had children of their own to care for and be
cared for by them Besides these, and few
friends who had seen and visited him while he
was sick. and possibly had known him for a
few years, there were none others to shed
tear except his old wife. And of this small
company the old wife seemed to be the only
heart mourner. 1t is respectful for his friends
to be sad few moments, till the service is per-
formed and the hearse OFT Of sight tits very
profitable and suitable for children who have
outcrown the fervency and affection of youth
to shed tears when an aged parent says fare
well. and lies down to quiet siumber. Some
regrets. some reconciliations Of the past, some
transitory griefs, and the pangs are over. Not
always so. But often how little true genuine
heart-sorrow there is.


The old wife arose with difficulty from her
seat and went to the coffin to look her last
look-to take her last farewell Through the
fast falling tears she gazed long and fondly
downinto the pale unconscious face. What did
she see there? Others saw nothing but the
rigid features of the dead she saw more In
every wrinkle Of that brow she readthe history
of years. From youth to manhood, from man.
hood to old age; in JOY and sorrow, in sickness
and bealth-it was all there when those chill
dren who had not quite outgrown the spmpa-
tbies Of childhood were infants lying on her
bosom. and every year since then-there it
was! To Others, those dull, mute monitors
were unintelligible to her they were the al
pbabet of the heart, familiar as household
words.


And then the future d? "What will become
Of me? What shall I do now? ?" She did not
saw so. she did not say anything, but she felt it.
The prospect Of the old wife is clouded. The
home circle is broken, never to be reunited ;
the vision of the hearthstone is scattered for
ever. Up to that hour there was home to
which the heart always turned with fondness.
But the magic is sundered-the keystone OF
that sacred arch is fallen, and now home is
nowhere this side Of heaven. What, children
be pensioner upon their kindness, where she
NAV be more of burden than blessing; so,
at least. she thinks. Or, shall she gather up
the scattered fragments of that broken arch,
and make them her temple and her shrine sit
down in her shrill solitude beside its expiring
fires. and die? What shall she do now?


They gently crowded her away from the dOad,
and the undertaken came forward with the cof-
fin lid in his hand. 1t is all right and proper
of course-it must be done; but to the heart
mourner it brings kind Of shudder-a thrlll
of agony.


The undertaken stood for moment with a
decent propriety, not wishing to manifest rude
haste. but evidently desirous Of being as exPe-
ditious as possible. Just as he was about to
close the coffin, the old wife turned back, and
STOPPING down, imprinted one long last kiss
upon the cold lips of her dead husband, then
staggered 10 her seat, buried her face in her
hands and the closing coffin hid him from her
sight foreverl


That kiss Fond token Of affection, and OF
sorrow, and memory, and farewell have
seen many kiss their dead-many such seals oil
love upon cold lips-but never did Sc one


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