kindness and instructed them by his wisdom, we pass into
another room--the saddest of all--the chamber of Death.

There, in, that room above the parlor, on the bright Sabbath morning of
May the sixth, at twenty-five minutes past ten, he breathed his last. He
was slightly indisposed the Monday previous; but until the evening of
that day he did not appear to be seriously ill. He complained of no
particular pain, but of a general restlessness and _malaise_. On Friday,
two days before his death, seated in his chair as the easiest position
he could obtain, he engaged in a game of chess with a friend; but his
tremulous hand refused to make the moves, which were made by another at
his suggestion, and were recorded by one of his daughters. He was too
weak, however, to finish the game, which was postponed with his consent
to another time. It was now plain that his disease, which was pneumonia,
could not be conquered, and that his end was nigh. On Saturday morning
his faculties became clouded. He was heard to call a long lost son by
the name known only to the family; then the name of his dear departed
wife was uttered; and presently the name of the master of the steamer
that plies between Norfolk and the Eastern Shore where that son and that
wife were buried; showing that his own burial by their side was passing
in dim review before his failing faculties. In the course of Saturday
his mind was wholly gone. On Sunday morning, a quarter after ten, he
drew a long breath, and it was thought that all was over; but he
rallied, and another long inspiration followed. And then all was still.
His spirit had passed away. An hour later I entered the chamber, and
took a seat by the side of the corpse. His hands were folded on his
chest, which loomed larger than in life; and his extended form looked
like one of those marble effigies which adorn the tombs of his Norman
sires. His features appeared full and natural as if a deep sleep had
come upon him. The massy forehead, the firm aquiline nose, the wide
reliant upper lip which looked as I have so often seen it when about to
put forth a serious utterance, and the broad chin--all were there as in
life; and even his silver hair, curled freshly by daughter's fingers,
clustered about his neck and brow. The "ocean eye" alone was closed.
Death had put his seal upon it. As I gazed upon that majestic form reft
of its mighty spirit and soon to be laid away forever, and as I pressed
the parting salutation