Gallitzin's funeral told something of the universal veneration in which he was held. In spite of bad weather, mourners came a distance of forty and fifty miles to pay him the last tribute of love and gratitude. It would have taken but a few minutes to convey the body from the presbytery to its resting-place; but his friends had a pretty thought. They carried their dear Father through the gardens and fields and meadows, and lastly through the little town—all of which had been his creation, his life's work,—that he might once more bless it all and dedicate it anew to Him to follow whom he had, in the most literal sense of the word, "left all things."