f
preservation. There was something wonderfully impressive in the grave
aspect and calm, gentle tone of the venerable man, as with his precious
charge he passed through New York on his way home. In a letter to Mrs.
Prentiss, dated January 2d, 1866, he himself tells the story of the
re-interment at Williamstown:

... After stopping a minute at my door the wagon passed at once to
the cemetery, and the remains were deposited in the tomb. This was on
Thursday. After consulting with my brother and his son (the chaplain) I
determined to wait till the Sabbath before the interment. Accordingly,
at 3 o'clock--after the afternoon service--the remains of my dear boy
were placed beside those of his mother. The services were simple, but
solemn in a high degree. They were opened by an address from Harry.
Prayer followed by Rev. Mr. Noble, now supplying the desk here. He
prefaced his prayer by saying that he never saw Edward but once, when he
preached at Williamstown at a communion and saw him sitting beside me
and partaking with me. Singing then followed by the choir of which Eddy
was for a long time a member. The words were those striking lines of
Montgomery:

Go to the grave in all thy glorious prime, etc.

After which the coffin was lowered to its place by young men who were
friends of Edward in his earlier years.

The state of the elements was exceedingly favorable to the holding of
such an exercise in the open air at a season generally so inclement.
The night before there was every appearance of a heavy N. E. storm. But
Sabbath morning it was calm. As I went to church I noticed that the sun
rested on the Vermont mountains just north of us, though with a mellowed
light as if a veil had been thrown over them. In the after part of the
day the open sky had spread southward--so that the interment took place
when the air was as mild and serene as spring, just as the last sun
of the year was sinking towards the mountains. Almost the entire
congregation were present.... Thus, dear sister, I have given you a
brief account of the solemn but peaceful winding up of what has been to
me a sharp and long trial, and I know to yourself and family also. In
eternity we shall more clearly read the lesson which even now, in the
light of opening scenes, we are beginning to interpret.

[1] Richard H. Dana, the poet.

[2] The article referred to appeared in The Biblical Repository and
Quarterly Observer for January, 1835. Vol V., pp. 1-32. I