work was to be done. It was
to our fields and orchards that his presence gave such value; it was
our streets in which the children looked up to him with love, and
the elders with reverence. He was our ornament and pride.

"'He is gone--is dust,--
He the more fortunate! Yea, he hath finished!
For him there is no longer any future.
His life is bright--bright without spot it was
And cannot cease to be. No ominous hour
Knocks at his door with tidings of mishap.
Far off is he, above desire and fear;
No more submitted to the change and chance
Of the uncertain planets.--

"'The bloom is vanished from my life,
For, oh! he stood beside me like my youth;
Transformed for me the real to a dream,
Clothing the palpable and the familiar
With golden exhalations of the dawn.
Whatever fortunes wait my future toils,
The _beautiful_ is vanished and returns not.'

"That lofty brow, the home of all wise thoughts and high
aspirations,--those lips of eloquent music,--that great soul, which
trusted in God and never let go its hope of immortality,--that large
heart, to which everything that belonged to man was welcome,--that
hospitable nature, loving and tender and generous, having no
repulsion or scorn for anything but meanness and baseness,--oh,
friend, brother, father, lover, teacher, inspirer, guide! is there
no more that we can do now than to give thee this our hail and
farewell!"

Judge Hoar's remarks were followed by the congregation singing the
hymns, "Thy will be done," "I will not fear the fate provided by Thy
love." The Rev. Dr. Furness then read selections from the Scriptures.

The Rev. James Freeman Clarke then delivered an "Address," from which I
extract two eloquent and inspiring passages, regretting to omit any
that fell from lips so used to noble utterances and warmed by their
subject,--for there is hardly a living person more competent to speak or
write of Emerson than this high-minded and brave-souled man, who did not
wait until he was famous to be his admirer and champion.

"The saying of the Liturgy is true and wise, that 'in the midst of
life we are in death.' But it is still more true that in the midst
of death we are in life. Do we ever believe so much in immortality
as when we look on such a dear and noble face, now so still, which a
f