with radiant tone color, like a burst of triumphant celestial voices. The solo had been the comforting Twenty-fourth Psalm, phrases of which seemed yet to circle under the vast dome, or sink into the hearts of the devotional hearers:
Lift up your heads, O ye gates;
And be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors.
Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord,
Or who shall stand in his holy place?
He that hath clean hands and a pure heart.
Lift up your heads, O ye gates!
On Thursday morning, December 8, services of interment were held at Chestnut Hill. All the world seemed covered with white snow. It was a bright, cold day and the sun gave to the snow a brilliance which made it appear a sacred, radiant carpet. About fifty guests, among whom were the members of Mrs. Eddy’s family, her personal students of Boston, the members of her household, and the officers of the Mother Church, also a few distinguished jurists and statesmen, assembled in the parlors of the house. They sat in silence from about a quarter before eleven until the hour struck, after which Judge Smith read the Ninety-first Psalm, and portions of St. John, thirteenth and fourteenth chapters, also passages from “Science and Health.” Mrs. Carol Hoyt Powers, the second reader of the Mother Church, read Mrs. Eddy’s poem, “Mother’s Evening Prayer,” and Our Lord’s prayer was recited by all. A procession then formed to pass the bier, a ceremony which was
