rocession, which was itself fully
a mile in length, made its slow way along, the crowds which lined the
pavements, filled the windows, and covered the tops of the arrested
tramway cars, reverently saluted the coffin. When the gates of the
University were passed, not a few thought of the time, more than
fifty-seven years before, when he who was now being borne to his
grave amid such great demonstrations of public homage, came up a shy,
awkward country lad to begin within these walls the life of strenuous
toil that had now closed. How much had passed since then! How great
was the contrast between the two scenes! A little later, when
the procession passed down the Dalkeith Road, everyone turned
instinctively to the house in Spence Street, where he had lived his
simple and godly life, unconscious that the eyes of men were upon him.
As the afternoon shadows were lengthening he was laid in his grave;
and many of those who stood near felt that a great blank had come into
their lives, and that Scotland and the Church were the poorer for the
loss of him who had followed his Master in simplicity of heart and had
counted cheap those honours which the world so greatly desires.[22]

[Footnote 22: Six years later the sister who had so long lived with him
was laid in the same grave. William Cairns sleeps with his kindred in
Cockburnspath churchyard.]

It is difficult to count up the gains and losses of a life. He had
great gifts,--gifts of abstract thinking and writing, powers of
scholarly research and continuous labour,--but his life had followed
another path determined by his early choice. Was this choice a wise
one? It is difficult to say. But two things seem clear. One is that
he never appears to have regretted it. At the public service in the
Synod Hall, Principal Rainy gave thanks for "those seventy-four
years of happy life." These words are entirely true. His life was
an exceptionally happy one. This surely means a great deal. If he
had missed his true vocation, he could not have had this happiness.

The second noticeable point is, that his choice made the influence
of his personality strong throughout Scotland. He seems to have
recognised that his true home lay in the region of Christian faith
and works, in the great common life of the Church; and so he made his
appeal, not to the limited number of those who could read a learned
theological treatise which the changing fortunes of the battle with
Unbelief might soon have put