altar of the House of Mercy, and take to celebrating in his own private oratory instead.

"There seems little more which one can say about this period until quite the end. On Saturday, October 26, 1901, I went to him to speak about the Chapter for the election of the Mother Superior, which was to be held on that day. Some little time previously a Chapter for the election of some novices had been held, at which he had asked me to preside in his stead. And I quite expected he would have done the same on this occasion. But I found him with all the necessary papers carefully arranged, and quite decided to go himself to the Chapter, which he did, and presided at it without the slightest confusion or hesitation. Then I left him, thinking that he would rest during the afternoon. But far from resting, he went first to the Hospital to see some invalid Sisters there, and then to the House of Mercy. On Sunday morning he sent me a note to say that he was not feeling very well, and could not preach. I went over to see him, but found him so bright and entirely himself that I thought it was only that he had somewhat overtired himself the previous day, and needed some_rest. Monday was the Festival of St. Simon and St. Jude. I was about to go to him about ten o'clock, when a Sister who had been with him in the morning came hurriedly in and begged me to go over at once. I went, but before I reached his room the end had come, and he was at rest, looking only as he might have done in his sleep. But a few minutes previously he had been talking to the Sister who was nursing him, and had been inquiring about a patient in the Hospital in whom he was interested. Thus quietly, after seventy years of strenuous work in the Church's Ministry, did the soul of this great priest pass into that world in which for so long he had seemed to us who knew him best to be already living, in the scarcely veiled Presence of the Lord, Whose he was and Whom he served.

"Yours,

"G. SEIGNELAY CUTHBERT."

The Funeral.

We would fain end here; yet it may appear abrupt and wanting in affection not to mention the esteem and tender love with which the earthly casket of the immortal spirit of

the "saintly Carter "-the beautiful instrument of ceaseless activities for God's glory and man's good-was laid to rest under the shadow of St. Andrew's Church, Clewer, so long the scene of his loving labours.

The body, clad in Eucharistic vestments, with the chalice and paten in his hands, was brought the night before the burial into the Chapel of the House of Mercy, whilst the Sisters sang the Urbs Beata, there to remain amid loving watchers until the morning, when a special Eucharist was celebrated for the family and mourners by Canon Carter's nephew, the Bishop of Zululand, now of Pretoria. Later came the chief service, beginning with a solemn celebration of the Holy Mysteries, the Rev. G. S. Cuthbert, then SubWarden (now Warden), being the celebrant. The Dies Ira was exquisitely rendered, the voices accompanied with organ and violins. But whilst the crowd in the great chapel witnessed to the affection in which Canon Carter was held, when the long procession slowly emerged from the Chapel and entered the road, the scene was still more striking; for thousands had gathered, filling every spot between the House of Mercy and the church-a distance of more than half a mile-to catch a glimpse of the funeral of the priest who had been so long known and loved, both as Rector of the parish and Warden of the Sisterhood. A long line of surpliced priests and ninety Sisters preceded the coffin, which was of ancient shape, but hidden by a beautiful pall, the pall-bearers being Lord Halifax, Colonel Drummond Hay, Rev. Father Benson, and the Rev. R. A. Suckling, the family and mourners walking next to the coffin. The unbroken silence of those in the procession and of the throng of people was a most remarkable feature. The regular footfall of those who were walking, like the beating of a pulse, alone broke the silence, and now and then the soft falling of the autumn leaves from the trees. The day was unusually bright, as seemed fitting for the bearing of one to the tomb who had shed so much brightness into numberless lives. The scene was indescribably touching-it was so simple, so real, so

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