It was a glorious day in the spring. The services had begun at one o’clock, and, as the procession entered the cemetery, the sun was near its setting. The cemetery was thronged with people, the crowd containing many who had been unable to secure admission to the hall. The music in the hall had been rendered by a male quartet. Clara Barton had never cared greatly for music, but the music that she liked best was that rendered by male voices or sung heartily by a congregation. In the cemetery one hymn was sung, “Nearer, my God, to Thee,” the whole great congregation joining in the singing. [Illustration: CLARA BARTON “ANGEL OF THE BATTLEFIELD” CIVIL WAR 1861-1865 FRANCO-PRUSSIAN WAR 1870-1871 SPANISH-AMERICAN WAR 1898 ORGANIZER AND PRESIDENT OF THE AMERICAN NATIONAL RED CROSS 1881--1904 DEC. 25, 1821--April 12, 1912 IN THE CEMETERY AT OXFORD] A prayer was offered by a blind soldier, Chaplain Simmons, of Worcester. The closing scene can hardly be described. Dr. Barton took his place at the head of the grave, holding in his hand a large bunch of red roses, and the place at the foot of the grave was taken by the Reverend Doctor Tyler, “Father Tyler,” a venerable and saintly man, who had buried the fathers and mothers of the Barton family in Oxford. He stood with his long white beard and silver hair irradiated by the sunset; and, in a voice tender, and reverent and comforting, spoke the following words: In the few words with which I am to close this service, I shall indulge in no repetition of what has been said, and so well said, by the principal speakers on this occasion, eulogistic of the life and the life-work of the most celebrated woman of the world, whose mortal remains we have here deposited in the resting-place of her choice, among the beloved of her family. My thought will lead you in another direction, which has hardly been alluded to, if at all, in the eloquent addresses to which we have listened. As we look into the grave and bid farewell to the mortal remains of Clara Barton, we instinctively are led to ask ourselves, “Where is Clara Barton who for more than ninety years made them the agencies of her great work in the world?” The life, the spirit, the soul--has that been destroyed by death? Does utter annihilation follow the development and growth of such a life? As a Christian minister I feel I give a voice to the scriptural revelation of life and immortality when I say emphatically, “No!” She still lives! She has entered the pearly gates of the Holy City and is now walking the golden streets of the New Jerusalem! She has been born again into the newer life, as Christ taught the inquiring Pharisee, and our aged friend is now among the youngest of the Immortals!