to the beggar who stood weeping by the curb-stone, all were moved by a common impulse of affection and respect.

"A reporter was detailed to pass along the route of the procession a half mile or more in advance of the cortege. From Dr. Chapin's Church to Madison Square, a distance of just a mile, the avenue was nearly blockaded. On the outer edge of the sidewalk the crowd were huddled two and three deep. On the walk within there was barely room to pass. The day would have worn a holiday aspect but for the quiet and subdued demeanour of the people, and the occasional exhibitions of sorrow. About Madison square, and on the space before the Fifth Avenue Hotel, the concourse was still greater. All along Broadway from Fourteenth street, through which the procession moved, to Hamilton Ferry, there was a dense mass of people. About the Bowling Green, the Battery, and the ferry-house, the crowd still stood patiently waiting. On the Brooklyn side the same scenes were repeated. Along Union street to the Fourth avenue, and down the avenue to the Cemetery stretched the wonderful double lines or watchers. At Greenwood was a still more surprising sight. Here an enormous concourse had gathered, standing about the entrance gates, and fringing the winding roads, and concentrating about the open grave so that the mourners, when the cortege arrived, had the greatest difficulty in following the hearse."

The whole city was in mourning. And as it was with NewYork, so it was with Brooklyn. Flags floated at half-mast. Vast numbers of buildings were placed in mourning. Trade, speculation, all branches of business paused, paying reverential respect to all that remained of this devoted friend of man.

The day was nearly done when the cortege reached the cemetery, and stopped on Locust Hill, where only a month before, the remains of Mrs. Greeley had been deposited. The open vault, containing the bodies of his wife and three children, was surrounded by a vast assemblage, through whom it was with difficulty the police made way for the procession. A brief prayer followed, the body was lowered, the daughters, descending, laid upon the coffin their tribute of flowers, with which rest forever peacefully the ashes of Horace Greeley!

Said The Times:

The funeral of Horace Greeley yesterday drew together an immense number of persons, all of whom were anxious to testify their respect for the greatest journalist of the United States. The streets were filled with spectators from morning till night, and among the mourners were very many of Mr. Greeley's old political enemies. The President, Vice-President Colfax, Senator Wilson, Senator Conkling, Secretary Belknap, and Minister Washburne were among those who attended the funeral services in the Church. Seldom has an eminent man received greater proofs of the respect in which he was held by his fellow-citizens.

Said The World:

"IT IS DONE."

The last sad rites due to the memory of an eminent citizen and most remarkable man have been fittingly performed; and surely so extraordinary a tribute was never before paid to simple moral worth. When royalty has fallen there may have been more imposing pageants, more of the show and trappings of funereal pomp; the restoration of the remains of the first Napoleon from St. Helena to "the France he loved so well" filled the streets of Paris with a spectacle never surpassed or equalled in consigning a poor piece of human clay to its last resting-place; even the obsequies of the Duke of Wellington were doubtless more grand as a mere ceremony; but in our plain republican life, on this side of the Atlantic, there has never been anything so impressive as the burial of Mr. Greeley yesterday. The gazing, reverent, sorrowing, thronging multitudes who lined both sides of the streets and filled all the door-steps, balconies, and windows, leaving not a yard of unoccupied standing room throughout the four miles from Dr. Chapin's church to the South Ferry, with a corresponding though not quite so dense a double line all the way from the Brooklyn landing to Greenwood, is a thing without parallel at any former American funeral since the first settlement of the country. "It is done;" it has been most fittingly and affectingly done; done in a manner that reflects infinite credit on the free, unbought, disinterested feelings which well up from the deep fountains of the great generous popular heart, and which reflects almost equal credit upon the high official personages who, disregarding urgent demands on their time, made a night journey from Washington to be present on this occasion. The sudden hush of strifes too recent and hot to be easily cooled, and the magnanimous sinking of party animosities over this honoured grave, are honourable to human nature as showing that our political antipathies rest merely on the surface or lie at the outer circumference of our hearts, and that, at their inner core, nothing is so honoured as deep sincerity and genuine moral worth. There was one venerable person present yesterday whose attendance and kindly words respecting the deceased seemed to us far more impressive and affecting than the graceful homage paid by the highest officers of the

Federal Government.

THE WORLD'S EDITORIAL.

591

The distinguished individual to whom we here refer has been reserved to see many former associates fall around him. It is but a short time since he attended Mr. Seward's funeral at Auburn, and he has now paid a willing tribute of respect to one with whom his relations were not so intimate and confidential, but who has fought on the same side with him in many former political battles, though they have been separated in the controversies of more recent years. This distinguished retired journalist, this very able astute politician, has acted in perfect keeping with the affectionate warmth of nature which his friends have always recognized as lying at the very roots of his character, in coming to mingle his tears and sympathies with those of the other mourners. Politicians, like other men, have their faults; but the last fault which can be truly charged on men influential in politics is heartlessness. There is no pursuit so eminently social as politics; none in which a strong hold on the hearts of other men is so indispensable to success. The reason is obvious enough; the very essence of politics is associated action, and no man has ever greatly succeeded, at least in our American politics, who has not possessed a large and almost magnetic social nature, capable of binding men to him by other ties than selfish interest. In the lower strata of politics there are doubtless instances enough of men "whose god is their belly" or their ambition; but we are now speaking of the higher ranks of political leaders. We do not believe that in our American public life, any leading politician has ever been conspicuous in the first rank, who has not numbered among his virtues that capacity to make friends, and that staunch fidelity in standing by friends, which are among the most lovable and beautiful traits of human nature. The veteran, retired politician to whom we allude as having attended Mr. Greeley's funeral yesterday, possesses this virtue, and the singular personal fascination which is its consequence, in a preeminent degree above almost all his cotemporaries. While politicians must take their just share of blame, it would be unjust to deny them the warmth of heart and generous social instincts to which they are as much indebted for their power as woman is indebted for hers to her beauty and tenderThese virtues of our political leaders never fail to manifest themselves on any occasion which, like that yesterday, recalls the ties of a common human nature. Lest any reader should fail to understand this allusion, which will be easily intelligible to most, we will say that the distinguished person referred to is Mr. Thurlow Weed. May the day be far distant when he shall be the unconscious recipient of honours similar to those which he forgot his infirmities in paying, yesterday, to one with whom he has so sharply differed in recent years! His presence was more generous and impressive than even that of the President of the United States. Mr. Weed and Mr. Greeley were recognized powers in American politics long before General Grant had emerged from obscurity. But President Grant has acted in a most generous, becoming spirit in honouring the funeral of the eminent citizen and patriot who was so lately his competitor. We trust these recent occurrences will cause the people to

ness.

form more indulgent judgments of political leaders, and of their capacity to participate in all the larger and deeper human sympathies.

But, whatever their lesson, these remarkable obsequies are "done." What took place yesterday under a bright December sun, at the house of mourning, at the house of worship, in the thronged streets where lifted hats and tearful eyes kept greeting the hearse as it passed, and under the bare trees of Greenwood where the last prayer was said and the black casket laden with white, fresh flowers was gently slidden down into the family vault where dust was committed to its native dust,-whatever may be its significance for us and those who are to come after us, it is all over. The affecting spectacle of yesterday becomes a hallowed remembrance today, and all that was visible of Mr. Greeley, his outcomings, and ingoings among us, his form and presence, his appearance on publie and social occasions, his words of counsel, his deeds of charity, are things which have passed from the earth forever. "It is done."

Let us hope that the lesson and admonition will not end with the useful life and funeral honours. The old may learn charity and the young derive encouragement from the impressive witness which has been borne to the power of virtue to win just recognition. This rich reward in moral esteem and appreciation, rebukes the vehemence of partisanship and attests the value and nobleness of a life steadily devoted to unselfish aims. If it shall have the effect to disarm animosities and introduce a healing spirit into our politics, the departed patriot will have benefitted the country by his death as well as by his life. But life, death, obsequies, outward demonstrations of affection and honour, are all over. Nothing remains of Horace Greeley but the influence which lives after him.

We sorrowfully take leave of him in his own last intelligible words, "It is done."

Said the Herald:

Yesterday the mortal remains of Horace Greeley were consigned to their last resting place. The obsequies were worthy of the man, and it would be unjust to refuse to admit that New-York honoured itself by the respect which it showed to the memory of the great journalist. It is but seldom that such a spectacle as our streets presented yesterday is witnessed in any city or among any people. Not since the funeral of the lamented Lincoln has such an impressive scene been witnessed, and not even then were sympathy and sorrow so visible on the faces of the crowds of human beings who lined the sidewalks. In the church and among those who followed the remains to the grave were noticeable many of the city's most distinguished children. It was not, however, New-York alone which did honour yesterday to the great departed. Our sister cities, Brooklyn and Jersey City, and the neighbouring townships were well represented. Representatives from Baltimore and Philadelphia and other of the large cities of the Union were not wanting, and the presence of President Grant, the Vice-President and the Vice-President elect, gave proof that the nation