. From the pulpit to the palm-branch; . up-posed to be singing, but most of them weeping, now doublyorphaned as they were; for Mr. Spurgeon had taken themall to his heart, and a childs instinct for a true friend isseldom at fault. When the procession started from the Tabernacle, a meet-ing of ministers and students of the Pastors CollegeEvangeUcal Association began at Chatsworth Road Chapel,close to Norwood Cemetery. Those present at this servicejoined those who came in the procession, and a most strikingsight it was to stand at the cemetery gate, and watch thelong curving line of men reaching
. From the pulpit to the palm-branch; . up-posed to be singing, but most of them weeping, now doublyorphaned as they were; for Mr. Spurgeon had taken themall to his heart, and a childs instinct for a true friend isseldom at fault. When the procession started from the Tabernacle, a meet-ing of ministers and students of the Pastors CollegeEvangeUcal Association began at Chatsworth Road Chapel,close to Norwood Cemetery. Those present at this servicejoined those who came in the procession, and a most strikingsight it was to stand at the cemetery gate, and watch thelong curving line of men reaching right up to the grave, allof them in black. The near relatives of the departed Pastor gathered firstaround the tomb, which was beautifully decked with foliageand flowers, then over a thousand mourners assembledwithin the barriers, and many thousands crowded beyond. While we stood there a little patch of blue sky appeared,just over our heads, as if to remind us of the glory-landabove ; and while Mr. Brown was speaking, a dove flew from. 2o8 From the Pulpit to the Palm-Branch, the direction of the Tabernacle towards the tomb, andwheeling in its flight over the crowd, almost seemed to ancient days it would have been an augury: to us it spokeonly peace. As the service proceeded, a Httle redbreastpoured forth its liquid note all the while from a neighbouringtombstone; it was appropriate music, for the redbreist isfabled to have had its crimson coat ever since it pickeda thorn from the Saviours bleeding brow. Well, we do notbelieve that; but we believe what we sang at the grave, thetruth that the beloved Pastor lived to preach, and died todefend:— Dear d)dng Lamb, Thy precious blood Shall never lose its powerTill all the ransomed Church of God Be saved to sin no more. And we joined heartily in the confession and resolve. Eer since by faith I saw the stream Thy flowing wounds supply,Redeeming love has been my theme, And shall be till I in a nobler, sweeter song, I
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, bookidfrompulpitto, bookyear1892
