372 MEMOIR OF GEORGE WILSON. CHAP. XII. 



The gates to-day are strictly guarded, and no one has 

 been admitted. As the procession approaches, the niches 

 in the screen wall separating on each side the road from 

 the cemeteries are filled with High School boys, who, on 

 their way home, scramble up to see the marvellous homage 

 to one who had sat in the halls where they meet for lessons, 

 and had played where they play, when he too was a little 

 boy. It seems strange that the meek yet noble face beneath 

 that coffin-lid should be the centre of all this stir. We can 

 only understand it by listening to these words : " Them 

 that honour me, I will honour." Now that they have come 

 close to the gate, the 'procession is inverted, those in front 

 falling back and lining the road, while the hearse passes up 

 the centre, and the relatives immediately follow. During 

 the short period spent within the walls, the overpowering 

 grief of the mourners passes beyond bounds. But this last 

 putting to sleep does not take long, and he soon lies with 

 his twin-brother and the many dearly-loved ones there 

 before him. "The heavens waited just till they covered 

 him in, and then wept a quick, cold shower, which cleared 

 off, and the new moon lighted up the west." The private 

 mourners left the burial-ground while the remainder of the 

 procession was still passing in. "The grave is the great 

 laboratory, whence alone the incorruptible, glorious, power- 

 ful, spiritual product of the Resurrection can emerge. Death 

 is the gate of life. Let us see those we love borne through 

 it without dismay, since they go in the train of Christ, and 

 come forth from the temporary shade in the brightness and 

 splendour of their Divine leader." x 



Over his resting-place there has been raised, by his uncle, 

 an antique cross, harmonizing with that he had suggested 



1 From unpublished Sermon on 1st Corinthians xv., by the Rev. Dr. 

 Cairns. 



