At eleven o'clock Thursday, the 11th, the public funeral service was held. Deputations from sixty religious associations were present. Members of the House of Commons, the Baroness Burdett-Coutts, bishops and laity, all came to honor the distinguished preacher. The boys of Stockwell Orphanage sang the last hymn announced by Mr. Spurgeon before he became ill,-- "The sands of time are sinking, The dawn of heaven breaks, The summer morn I've sighed for, The fair sweet morn awakes." Dr. A. T. Pierson of the United States delivered an earnest address, and the coffin was borne down the aisle, while the great congregation rose and sang,-- "There is no night in Homeland." Through four miles of streets, crowds lining the way, the large mourning procession passed,--forty coaches and a vast number of private carriages. Flags were at half-mast, bells were tolled, and houses were draped with black. At Stockwell Orphanage, on a raised platform covered with the emblems of mourning, five hundred boys and girls, who had loved the great man, once as poor as they, saw the solemn procession pass to the grave. Norwood Cemetery, where none had been admitted save by ticket, was already thronged. After a brief service, the Bishop of Rochester pronounced the benediction, and the sorrowing crowd went back to their homes. More than two years afterwards, March 21, 1894 the Rev. Thomas Spurgeon was called to succeed his father at the Metropolitan Tabernacle. The manifold work of Charles Haddon Spurgeon will go on forever, through his books, and through those whose steps he has turned heavenward. Say not his work is done; No deed of love or goodness ever dies, But in the great hereafter multiplies: Say it is just begun. FOOTNOTE: [1] An account of her work may be found in my book, "Social Studies in England." PHILLIPS BROOKS. "I never met any man, or any ecclesiastic, half so natural, so manly, so large-hearted, so intensely Catholic in the only real sense, so loyally true in his friendships, so absolutely unselfish, so modest, so unartificial, so self-forgetful.... A blessing and a gracious presence has vanished out of many lives. With a very sad heart I bid him farewell ... the noblest, truest, and most stainless man I ever knew." Thus wrote Canon Farrar of London in _The Review of Reviews_ for March, 1893, two months after the death of Phillips Brooks. The various pulpits, the press, the millionnaires, the poor, and the lonely, all felt and said nearly the same thing. Canon Farrar wrote elsewhere, before Dr. Brooks's death, "I cannot recall the name of a single divine among us, of any rank, who either equals him as a preacher, or has the large sympathies and the rich endowments which distinguish him as a man." The _Nation_ said, "The death of Phillips Brooks strikes down the greatest figure left to the American church." [Illustration: PHILLIPS BROOKS.]