wenty half eagles in it, was
presented by Dr. W. E. Barton, with choice and fitting words. So
deeply affected was this man Carleton, so noted for his self-mastery,
that, for a moment, those who knew him best were shot through as by a
shaft of foreboding, lest, then and there, the horses and chariot of
fire might come for the prophet. A quarter of a minute's pause,
understood by most present as nothing more than a natural interval
between presentation speech and reply, and then Carleton, as fully as
his emotion would admit, uttered fitting words of response.

The "banquet hall deserted," the photographic camera was brought into
requisition, and pleasant souvenirs of a grand occasion were made.
Everything joyously planned had been happily carried out. This was the
culminating event in the life of a good man, to the making of whom,
race, ancestry, parentage, wife, home, friends, country, and
opportunity had contributed, and to all of which and whom, under God,
Carleton often made grateful acknowledgments.

It was but a fortnight after this event, in which I participated with
such unalloyed pleasure, that the telegraphic yellow paper, with its
type-script message, announced that the earthly house of the
tabernacle of Carleton's spirit had been dissolved, and that his
building of God, the "house not made with hands," had been entered.

The story of Carleton's last thirteen days on earth is soon told. He
had written a little upon his new story. For the _Boston Journal_ he
had penned an article calling attention to the multiplying
"sky-scraper" houses, and the need of better fire-apparatus. He had,
with the physician's sanction, agreed to address on Monday evening,
March 2d, the T. Starr King Unitarian Club of South Boston, on "Some
Recollections of a War Correspondent."

Carleton's last Sunday on earth was as one of "the days of heaven upon
earth." It was rich to overflowing with joyous experiences. It is now
ours to see that the shadows of his sunset of life were pointing to
the eternal morning.

It was the opening day of spring. At Shawmut Church, in holy
communion, he, with others, celebrated the love of his Saviour and
Friend. To Carleton, it was a true Eucharist. A new vision of the
cross and its meaning seemed to dawn upon his soul. At the
supper-table, conversation turned upon Christ's obedience unto death,
his great reconciliation of man to God, his power to move men, the
crucifixion, and its meaning. Carleton s