The Columbus dispatch. (Columbus, Miss.) 19??-1922, 1921-08-14
Percy William Maer
AN APPRECIATION
BY Carlton M. Brosius.
ITO live in hearts we leave behind is not to die"

ITO live in hearts we leave behind is not to die"
ONE wear ago. Yesterday, Percy William Maer gave
" up the struggle and entered into rest His mortal
remains were given into the keeping of Mother Earth
and his noble spirit winged its flight mto the realm be-
yond the stars.
Time has not in any measure obliterated the memory
of his good Deeds his upright and manly life, his up
lifting influence. Nor has time taken from the hearts
Of his loved the grief his transition caused The
passing of the months has merely softened and saneted
the poignant that when the light left his
eyes and his magnanmous heart ceased to beat
When one we love passes from sight and dsap-
pears behind the veil of the unknown future naturally
pause and reflect Whence came he? Whittier does he
go? 1t is neither logical rational to suppose that
,ie made in the image and likeness of Godpossessing
so many characteristics that divne-should at the
close of the earth-fe, become but handful of I'M
dstingushabe dust Reason revos against such a
cusion The tragedy of Golgotha makes such thought
sacregous When Jesus said BE thou faithful death
and will give thee of life did he that
crown of life was composed of six feet Of earth and
marble shaft?
Can any one who knew him think that all that remains
Of Percy William Maer is the handful of dust that 'lies
out yonder in Friendship Cemetery? Kinds words, beau
tful thoughts noble impulses generous deeds these
immortal and that which is immortal cannot be destroyed
The hand of death may change their FORM but the hand
of death cannot destroy God-lke attributes.
"Under the sod and the dew" reposes all that
mortal of Percy William Maer, but what of the i'm
mortal?
In Friendship Cemetery-where the sun kisses the
from Natures face earliest at MORN where the
fragrance Of the flowers dwells lovingly upon the sigh
ing breezes of summer where the cabrd feeds its young
and the brown thrush carols its maethere repose the
mortal remains of this good but OH is there not
immortal part? There was intelligence, a spirit,
sou-hat part which made him lovable-the divine the
nexpressble egO-is that too, dead? Does it, too lie
in the home? Or, does it live? Does the spirit
proud and noble and magnanimousdoes it rest in the
grave? Does it live and hover the grave, has it
gone TO the cty not made with hands?" Or has death
ended ALL and by destroying the body, destroyed all that
makes life worth living?
Have you stood upon the shore Of river
and watched its ceaseess flow? 1t tells of eternity.
Silent voeeles the tapping of the waves as they
daily with the pebbles that line their way the waters
move on, ever Now they hidden in the shadows
Of gloom. Now they CLEAN in the pink and pearl of
dawn. Now the golden sunlight comes flashing above
the horizon and its joyous hasten to kiss each tiny
wave it dances and sparkes upon the bosom of the
waters. Now they simmer and rolic in the noontide
sum- reflect the radiant spendor of sunset mirror
ing their depths the gold CHASING the red and orange
absorbing the purple and pink. Now stand as the