Waterbury evening Democrat., 1907-12-02
The darkness of their night.


 into which the great and virtuous passed, and that all that was evil died like the oak that was pros trated by the lightning's stroke. Centuries before the great sacri- l flee on Calvary, the ancients wor- shipped their mythical gods, and be- lieved that while they were children of earth they had the power of transmitting themselves by their su- perior virtue into gods, and that they became immortal, capable of con- trolling men and the destiniess of this earth
 Tn the history of the ancient world we find that in the days of Homer they offered human sacrifices to pro- pitiate the gods and the spirits of de- parted friends. The word 'Pontifex' meaning the sacrifice on the bridge was associated from very early times with ceremonies in honor or de- preciation of the dead, whom the Romans called Lemures.
 "The feast of the Lemuralia was kept on the Sublician bridge which spanned the Fiber, between Aventine and Janiculum, during the 9th, 11th and 18th of May. | These ceremonies, according to | Dionysius, the Greek historian, con- sisted in casting thirty figures made | from bulrushes in human shape into | the Fiber.
 He adds there can be little doubt that these were substitute for live | men once offered to propitiate the | ghosts of the departed. |, This historic legend says, They l were invented by hercules when he | abolished human sacrifices formerly made at that spot in honor of Saturn
 "So it may be seen that the march | of progress and the enlightenment of mankind have changed even the ap- pearance of the human sacrifice, and l that we now meet to refresh our memories from the fountains of love | and charity, which the noble deeds | of our departed friends have be- queathed to us as rich legacies. Those only who are without hope should dread death. All CHC ever 6IPClSu by tyrants are not worth as much as a simple deed of kindness or word of love which lifts burden from some | aching heart, and helps to strength en the faltering footsteps of one, who in despair, looks about him for some aid or comfort and for the first time feels the gentle touch of the good Samaritan.
 Love, kindness, charity and jus tice are the most potent forces on earth. That love which sacrifices without selfish hope, kindness, which restores confidence to the dropping spirit; charity, which does not humiliate or degrade the recipi- ent; justice, which implants in our hearts hatred of all that is evil, are the cornerstones of our order and have their origin in the bosom of God, and the more we exercise them the greater will be our reward. For God hath marked each sorrow
 ing day,
 And numbered every secret tear: And heavens long age of bliss shall
 pay
 For all his children suffer here.' We are not here assembled to mourn over those who have departed. but to cast over their graves a few flowers-some sweet forget-me-not and to plant little ivy that is ever green, and the amaranth that never fades.
 These are the means we take to perpetuate the virtues of the dead, and their shortcomings We write in the sands of the sea.
 We die, but those parts of us which are worthy of life live on for ever and are enshrined in memory's pure amber.
 We see but dimly through the mists
 and vapors
 Amid these earthly damps, What seem to us but sad funereal ta-
 pers,
 May be heavens distant lamps. There is no death! what seems so is
 transition;
 This life of mortal breath Is but suburb of the life Elysian
 Whose portal We call death
 We are unable to solve the mys- teries of the Great Unknown; nor can be assert with certainty that those ties which bind us here on earth still bind us and are connected with that spirit land to which our friends have departed; but certain it is, that firm belief prevails that as the night and morning meet, we, too, are linked in such a fashion and so blended that it is impossible to separate the living from the dead.
 By this thought we are lifted into an atmosphere which enables us to endure with fortitude trials which would otherwise o'erwhelm us.
 How often have we thought with Burns Death the. poor mans dearest
 friend,
 The kindest and the best, Welcome the hour my aged limbs Are laid with thee to rest. The great, the wealthy, fear thy
 blow.
 From pomp and pleasures torn; But Oh! a blest relief to those, That weary laden mourn
 Tt would be impossible to measure the debt of gratitude the world owes to those dauntless spirits. who have blazed the way in human progress, and who. instead of beautiful theor- ies, have left us the concrete examples of their lives in their readiness to do and die unselfshly in duty's cause.