tea room.” After He had dressed He was persuaded to remain on the sofa in His room.
In the afternoon He sent all the friends to the tomb of the Báb, where on the occasion of the anniversary of the declaration of the Covenant a feast was being held, offered by a Parsí pilgrim who had lately arrived from India.
At four in the afternoon being on the sofa in His room He said: “Ask my sister and all the family to come and have tea with me.”
His four sons-in-law and Rúḥí Effendi came to Him after returning from the gathering on the mountain. They said to Him: “The giver of the feast was unhappy because you were not there.” He said unto them: “But I was there, though my body was absent, my spirit was there in your midst. I was present with the friends at the tomb. The friends must not attach any importance to the absence of my body. In spirit I am, and shall always be, with the friends, even though I be far away.”
The same evening He asked after the health of every member of the household, of the pilgrims and of the friends in Haifa. “Very good, very good,” He said when told that none were ill. This was His very last utterance concerning His friends.
At eight in the evening He retired to bed after taking a little nourishment, saying, “I am quite well.”
He told all the family to go to bed and rest. Two of His daughters however stayed with Him. That night the Master had gone to sleep very calmly, quite free from fever.
He awoke about 1.15 a. m., got up and walked across to a table where He drank some water. He took off an outer night garment, saying, “I am too warm.” He went back to bed and when His daughter Rúḥá Khánum, later on, approached, she found Him lying peacefully and, as He looked into her face, He asked her to lift up the net curtains, saying, “I have dif- ficulty in breathing, give me more air.”
Some rose-water was brought of which He drank, sitting up in bed to do so, without any help. He again lay down, and as some food was offered Him, He remarked in a clear and distinct voice: “You wish me to take some food, and I am going?”
He gave them a beautiful look. His face was so calm, His expression so serene, they thought Him asleep.
He had gone from the gaze of His loved ones!
The eyes that had always looked out with loving-kindness upon humanity, whether friends or foes, were now closed. The hands that had ever been stretched forth to give alms to the poor and the needy, the halt and the maimed, the blind, the orphan and the widow, had now finished their labor. The feet that, with untiring zeal, had gone upon the ceaseless errands of the Lord of compassion were now at rest. The lips that had so eloquently championed the cause of the suffering sons of men, were now hushed in silence. The heart that had so powerfully throbbed with wondrous love for the children of God was now stilled. His glorious spirit had passed from the life of earth, from the persecutions of the enemies of righteousness, from the storm and stress of well-nigh eighty years of indefatigable toil for the good of others.
His long martyrdom was ended!
Early on Monday morning, November 28th, the news of this sudden calamity had spread over the city, causing an unprecedented stir and tumult, and filling all hearts with unutterable grief.
The next morning, Tuesday, November 29th, the funeral took place; a funeral the like of which Haifa, nay Palestine itself, had surely never seen; so deep was the feeling that brought so many thousands of mourners together, representative of so many religions, races and tongues.
The High Commissioner of Palestine, Sir Herbert Samuel, the Governor of Jerusalem, the Governor of Phoenicia, the chief officials of the government, the consuls of the various countries, resident in Haifa, the heads of the various religi-