"Through the mist and gloom of a dull November morning, a pompous funeral procession went its way along the busy streets of London. It was a common sight—so common that it attracted no attention from the multitude who crowded on its path, as with eager care-worn faces they hurried on in their several avocations; and yet it was a strange sight too for them if they would but have thought upon it—the passing amongst them of that quiet traveller to the realms unseen! For so surely as he was even now moving on to the portals of the land which is very far off, they themselves, with their swift impatient feet, were speeding unconsciously on the same journey." - Felicia Skene, 1849.

 

 

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