it was a look that sunk deep into every
heart; it hushed down the common cant of those who, according to country
custom, went to stare blindly at the great mystery of death,--for all
that came out of that chamber smote upon their breasts and went away in
silence, revolving strangely whence might come that unearthly beauty,
that celestial joy.

Once more, in that very room where James and Naomi Lincoln had lain side
by side in their coffins, sleeping restfully, there was laid another
form, shrouded and coffined, but with such a fairness and tender purity,
such a mysterious fullness of joy in its expression, that it seemed more
natural to speak of that rest as some higher form of life than of
death.

Once more were gathered the neighborhood; all the faces known in this
history shone out in one solemn picture, of which that sweet restful
form was the centre. Zephaniah Pennel and Mary his wife, Moses and
Sally, the dry form of Captain Kittridge and the solemn face of his
wife, Aunt Roxy and Aunt Ruey, Miss Emily and Mr. Sewell; but their
faces all wore a tender brightness, such as we see falling like a thin
celestial veil over all the faces in an old Florentine painting. The
room was full of sweet memories, of words of cheer, words of assurance,
words of triumph, and the mysterious brightness of that young face
forbade them to weep. Solemnly Mr. Sewell read,--

"He will swallow up death in victory; and the Lord God will wipe away
tears from off all faces; and the rebuke of his people shall he take
away from off all the earth; for the Lord hath spoken it. And it shall
be said in that day, Lo this is our God; we have waited for him, and he
will save us; this is the Lord; we have waited for him, we will be glad
and rejoice in his salvation."

Then the prayer trembled up to heaven with thanksgiving, for the early
entrance of that fair young saint into glory, and then the same old
funeral hymn, with its mournful triumph:--

"Why should we mourn departed friends,
Or shake at death's alarms,
'Tis but the voice that Jesus sends
To call them to his arms."

Then in a few words Mr. Sewell reminded them how that hymn had been sung
in this room so many years ago, when that frail, fluttering orphan soul
had been baptized into the love and care of Jesus, and how her whole
life, passing before them in its simplicity and beauty, had come to so
holy and beautiful a close; and when, pointing to the calm sleeping fa