The Wellington enterprise. [volume] (Wellington, Ohio) 1867-188?, 1879-03-13

pedient to restore, past human entresty
to influence.
Death is SO irresponsive! 1t smites US
so, that placid face, the folded hands
and quiet heart, already unmoved by
tears or grief, or words Of woe, or sense
of others loss, or tenderness. We can
not bear that death so soon should make
a breach in love and sympathy, that in
its rest and serenity they should forget
US and our weight of suffering. How
soon earth's pain is all removed, every
trace gone from lip and cheek and brow,
and what in life was beautiful death glo-
rifles. Is this the form that SO lately
moved among rs, familiar to our daily
sight, now wrapped about in such mys-
terys That mist of flowing hair is it the
same that,yielding to brush and plat, we
daily wrought into shining braids and
confined its golden length with rib
bOns to match the azure of her eyes?
Statuesque face and perfect hands, every
curve and line SO full of grace; this clay
so lately our chief care, SO lovely and
painless now-could it have been of the
earths 1t seems like sscrilege to touch
it now. Is it to teach us q new lesson of
the mutability of all earthly things that
the sublimest beauty should be reached
only at the threshold of corruptionf
Such day and such a day, but a week
or q month ago, we recall that they were
with US enjoying what made us happy,
interested in our pursuits, troubled with
what perplexed US, sorry if we were
grieved, affected by the same influences
that make others merry or sad. We count
the days since they were borne away,
jealous of each tn at shall in any measure
dim the memory of our beloved. We
can hardly bear the thought that they
have no further need of us. Such lit
tie time ago we were all in all to them,
and now no want of theirs appeals to
our quick sympathies or nerves us to
loving service in their behalf.
The things they liked. the articles they
used. the garments worn by our dead,
how vividly these recall them. In the
hushed silence we listen for q footf all
that never comes, wait for q greeting that
will nevermore be spoken, for the Ca
ressing touch of a gentle hand, for the
sound and song of a voice that is still.
Life that was so full Of care, and often
SO anxious for their sake, is comparative
ly empty and ambitionless now. So
many hopes are buried with them. Into
Heavens rest and new soul-delights
knowledge of earth's SORROWS may not
intrude. The joys they have entered
through the baptismal Of death, even
for loves loyalty should not be marred.
Since no word of ours may reach them,
and no afterthought of affection change
in any. way their happiness or welfare,
naught remains for US but to cherish
with loving remembrance the good they
did, the pleasant ways in which they
made US happy, their graces of heart
and mind and person, and more than all /,
the tender recollection of their attach
ment to us whose lives are MANNED by
loss of them.
Then there are the dear ones that are
left;what relief to sore hearts that there
are still those whom we can make happi-
er, who need Us. The suffering, the
helpless, the improvident, the discour
aged we have always with US, if we look
for them. The near duty must for the
time eclipse the want and woe outside,
but helping others is Gods remedy for
healing our own heart-aches, and it would
be pity indeed if sympathy were ever
consumed by sorrow. The great human
family are all children in one sense and
never outgrow their need of each others
fostering help and kindly care. H