The death of a good man, in the midst of his
usefulness, cuts off a blessed ministry of helpfulness in the circle in
which he has dwelt. But his influence continues. Longfellow writes:--
"Alike are life and death
When life in death survives,
And the uninterrupted breath
Inspires a thousand lives.
"Were a star quenched on high,
For ages would its light,
Still travelling downward from the sky,
Shine on our mortal sight.
"So when a great man dies,
For years beyond our ken
The light he leaves behind him lies
Upon the paths of men."
The influence which our dead have over us is ofttimes very great. We
think we have lost them when we see their faces no more, nor hear their
voices, nor receive the accustomed kindnesses at their hands. But in
many cases there is no doubt that what our loved ones do for us after
they are gone is quite as important as what they could have done for us
had they stayed with us. The memory of beautiful lives is a
benediction, softened and made more rich and impressive by the sorrow
which their departure caused. The influence of such sacred memories is
in a certain sense more tender than that of life itself. Death
transfigures our loved one, as it were, sweeping away the faults and
blemishes of the mortal life, and leaving us an abiding vision, in
which all that was beautiful, pure, gentle, and true in him remains to
us.
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