“When Taylor came here to give his lectures on German literature, at the ‘Lowell Institute,’ the crowd was so great that hundreds were unable to gain admittance. Those masterly delineations of the genius and character of Goethe, Schiller, Klopstock, Lessing, and other famous men of Germany, will long be remembered here, and we were all looking forward to no remote period when we should again hear his voice on kindred topics in the same place. No discourses have ever been listened to in Boston with more enthusiasm, or have been oftener referred to with delight, since they were delivered. Bayard Taylor was not only honored and respected here for his genius,—he was everywhere beloved. His death saddens our city, and is the absorbing topic in every circle.” Mr. Taylor’s body arrived in New York on the thirteenth day of March, about three months after his death, and was received with imposing ceremonies of respect. Committees from distinguished citizens and prominent associations received the remains at the steamship wharf and a large procession followed the elegant funeral-car to the City Hall. The coffin was placed in the Governor’s room in the City Hall, where an address was delivered by the Hon. Algernon S. Sullivan. Delegations were present from the Grand Army of the Republic; from the Delta Kappa Epsilon societies; the German singing societies; from the State Legislature; the National Congress, and hundreds of men and women distinguished more or less in literary and official life. Salutes were fired from the fort, dirges were sung by German associations, flags were placed at half-mast, and the immense crowd of people seeking admittance to City Hall, showed the esteem in which the distinguished minister was held. The body lay in state at the City Hall, with a guard from the Grand Army of the Republic, until noon of the 14th, when the body was removed, amid touching and imposing ceremonies, to the railway train which conveyed it to Kennett Square. There have been but few incidents of American life more pathetic and remarkable than the spontaneous exhibition of love and admiration by the people of Mr. Taylor’s native town, when his body was taken there for burial. The silent and uncovered crowds, the tears, the regrets, the stories of his kindness, the honest acts of deference, the noble reception of any one who had been his friend, all served to make up a most unusual tribute to the memory of a great man. In many places the funeral of Mr. Taylor had not attracted the attention which his friends have felt was due to his memory. But at his old home, among his own kin, in the circle of those who knew him best, old and young came forth to do him honor. Aged men and women, whose white hairs floated in the chilly breezes, and young children, whose hats and bonnets were held so modestly behind them, bowed their heads as the sombre procession passed them.