The mourning of Dunedin on Wednesday, like the mourning of a mighty nation," was eminently solemn. The most conspicuous figure in Otago was laid to his rest amid the lamentations of an entire community which loved him as he also loved it. The remains of the Rev. Dr Stuart were committed to the dust, and the whole of Dunedin—and not the whole of Dunedin only, but large contingents from various portions of the province—assembled to do honour to his memory. With a unanimity that afforded striking testimony to the public appreciation of the doctor's worth and to the feeling of sorrow at his death the business people of the city closed their warehouses, their factories, and their shops at midday so that the fullest opportunity might be given to their employees to join in the last tribute of respect to one whose removal involved what nearly every man, woman, and child in the community regarded as a personal loss, and the bulk of the establishments so closed were not reopened at all on Wednesday. It was a remarkable demonstration of grief which the afternoon witnessed—a demonstration in which all ranks and classes of the citizens with one accord took part. The weather was favourable to the assembling of a large crowd, and full advantage was taken of it, the main streets of Dunedin being thronged as they never have been before on such an occasion. Upstairs windows, balconies, the roofs of houses and verandahs along the line of route from Knox Church to the Southern Cemetery were occupied by great numbers of people, but there was no hilariousness in the crowd, the prevailing tone being one of sadness at the falling of a great man and a prince in Israel. The bells of Knox Church and First Church were tolled, and the visible signs of mourning were numerous.