hers, to whom he had ever
been a wise and trustworthy friend. He had chosen his grave in a small
islet half a mile distant from Lerwick--a lonely spot where the living
never went, save to bury the dead.

The day of burial was a clear one, with a salt, fresh wind from the
south-west. Six fishermen made a bier of their oars, and laid the
coffin upon it. Then the multitude followed, singing as they went,
until the pier was reached. Boat after boat was filled, and the
strange procession kept a little behind the one bearing the coffin and
the minister. The snow lay white and unbroken on the island, and, as
it was only a few acres in extent, the sea murmured unceasingly around
all its shores.

The spot was under a great rock carved by storms into cloud-like
castles and bastions. Eagles watched them with icy gray eyes from its
summit, and the slow cormorant, and the sad sea-gulls. Overhead a
great flock of wild swans were taking their majestic flight to the
solitary lakes of Iceland, uttering all the time an inspiring cry, the
very essence of eager expectation and of joyful encouragement. Dr.
Balloch stood, with bared head and uplifted eyes, watching them, while
they laid the mortal part of his old friend in "that narrow house,
whose mark is one gray stone." Then looking around on the white earth,
and the black sea, and the roughly-clad, sad-faced fishers, he said,
almost triumphantly--

"The message came forth from him in whom we live, and move, and have
our being:

"Who is nearer to us than breathing, and closer than hands or feet.

"Come up hither and dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

"The days of thy sorrow have been sufficient; henceforward there is
laid up for thee the reward of exceeding joy.

"Thou shalt no more fear the evil to come; the bands of suffering are
loosed. Thy Redeemer hath brought thee a release from sorrow.

"So he went forth unto his Maker; he attained unto the beginning of
peace.

"He departed to the habitations of just men made perfect, to the
communion of saints, to the life everlasting."

Then he threw a few spadefuls of earth into the grave, and every man
in turn did the same, till the sepulture was fully over. Silently then
the boats filled, and all went to their homes. They were solemn, but
not sorrowful. The simple, pathetic service left behind it a feeling
as of triumph. It had shown them they were mortal, but assured them
also of immortality.

During the following summer