" which survives death, which is
the extinction of the _psyche_ or animal breath,--the soul remaining
as the abode of the spirit. In body, soul, and spirit, Charles
Carleton Coffin was a true man, who, even in the evening of life, was
rich in those three forms of life which God has revealed and
discriminated through the illuminating Greek language of the New
Testament.
True indeed it was that, while with multiplying years the animal life
lessened in quantity and intensity, the spiritual life was enriched
and deepened; or, to put it in Paul's language and in the historical
present so favored by Carleton, "While the outward man perisheth, the
inward man is renewed day by day."
CHAPTER XXIX.
THE GOLDEN WEDDING.
Thus, amid happy surroundings, in the new home, in the last leap-year
of this wonderful century, came the time of the golden wedding. God
had walked with these, his children, fifty years, while they had
walked with one another. Providence seemed to whisper, "Come, for all
things are now ready." The new home was finished and furnished, all
bright and cheerful, and suffused with the atmosphere of genial
companionship. The bride of a half century before, now with the roses
of health blooming under the trellis of her silvery hair, with
sparkling eyes beaming fun and sympathy, welcome and gladness, by
turns, was at this season in happy health. This was largely owing, as
she gladly acknowledged, to regular calisthenics, plenty of fresh air,
and complete occupation of mind and body. The thousand invitations in
gilt and white had, as with "the wings of a dove covered with silver
and her feathers with yellow gold," flown over the city, commonwealth,
and nation. On February 18th, the house having been transformed by
young friends into a maze of greenery and flowers, husband and wife
stood together to receive congratulations. In the hall were ropes of
sturdy pine boughs and glistening laurel, with a huge wreath of
evergreen suspended from the ceiling, and bearing the anniversary
date, 1846 and 1896. In the reception-room one friend had hung the
emblem of two hearts joined by a band of gold above the cornice.
Dining-room and library were festooned with smilax. In the archways
and windows were hanging baskets of jonquils and ferns. "An help meet
for him," the bride of fifty years was arrayed in heliotrope satin
with trimmings of point lace, making, as we thought, with her delicate
complexion and soft white hair
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