“Your fathers, where are they? And the prophets, do they live for ever?” Both No and Yes, says feeling and affection, struggling for the mastery. And while contemplating the attenuated frame of our old friend, we felt glad that his physical sufferings were so nearly ended, and the glory world so nearly reached. We must have talked hundreds of times together of "What must it be to be there?" Our brother now knows, while we for a while must still deal with the ever-increasing conflict of what is to be here. Brother Dalton was born at the village of Shorne, about midway between Gravesend and Rochester. The country districts at that time were far more than now under the domination of the squire and the…