Year: 1879

| vi pun WHlCu 10 OH AZ


from the prospect of mortal illness i


quite different thing from the real in


stinctive dread of death it should in


deed, and often does, act powerfully il


reconciling US to the prospect Of death


In like manner the unwillingness to b.


taken away from life in its fullness, to b.


cut off, from the enjoyment of brigh


prospects, and debarred from the salts


faction of that ever-deepening curiosity


with which every actil e mind must be


hold the mysterious drama going or


around us-this unwilingness is quite
distinct feeling from the shrin king of ths
| flesh and spirit from dissolution. 1t is


feeling which should in reason belong


in its full force only to those who look


upon death as the end of all things, ano


for whom, therefore, it should at least


have no terrors. Is it some mysteriously


intense appetite, or an inveterate confu
sion of thought which hiuders most peo
pie from perceiving that not to erist can


not possibly be in the slightest degree


painful or even unpleasant? IT, on the


other hand, we regard death merely as a


transition from one state of existence to


another (and of an existence possibly oi


infinite duration), we open the door to


all extremes of glorious or fearful expec-


tations, and the event itself shrinks into


insignifcance. From this point of view


as well as from the last, though for such
different reasons, the important ques-
ton is not when we die, but how we live.
Religion and philosophy on different
grounds combine to impress upon US the
continuity and mutual dependence of
successive "dispensations" or "develop-
ments." We cannot conceive of, much
less really believe in, any state of exist
ence in which we can have any interest
wholly disconnected from our interest in
this life. The laws which regulate the
world we know must be in some degree
the laws of any world in which we can
conceive of ourselves as existing and re-
tanning our identity, and it is hard to
understand how any rational being can
find fanced safety in the mere delay
of an inevitable crisis. OF course the
theological origin of such a fancy is fs.-
miliar enough but the result is, think,
as unworthy of its own religious basis as
it is of our human dignity. To suppose
that we can have any reasonable ground
of confidence for this life either in Or
apart from an Almighty Being whom we
cannot trust with our destiny in the next,
is certainly not more foolish than it is
faithless. Our hopes for this world and
for the next must rest upon one founda-
tion,-our faith must be equally prepared
for trials in respect of both. Either death
leads to nothing at all, and to fear it is
unmeanlng; or it is mere parenthesis,
and to fear it is unworthy of those who
believe in righteous order


Still, while life is sweet, we must needs
shrink more or less from what at least
looks like its untimely termination. If
it were not for the conventional associa-
ton of sorrow with death already referred
to, few, perhaps, would be selfish enough
to wish to detain the aged from their
rest, and to themselves the prospect is
rarely unwelcome; but for the young in
their springtime, or the middle aged in
their vigor, death necessarily involves a
loss which is not the less real and need
not be the less keenly felt because it may
be regarded as overbalanced by the gain.
Let our anticipations of life beyond the
grave be as bright as they will, there can
be no use in denying the preciousness of
those which lie on this side of it and the
most ardently hopeful must still feel that
if the choice lag a0ith themselves, it would be
wisest not to hurry over the preliminary
phase. But the truth is brought home
to US again and again, that we have not
light enough to choose by. In the dim
ness we can family discern that life has
other kinds of completeness besides
length of days ;.
It is not growing like a tree


In bulk, doth make man better be;


Or standing long an oak, three hundred year,
To fall log at last dry, bald, and sere.


lily of day


Is fairer far in May
Although it fall and die that night,
It was the plant and flower of light.
In small proportions we just beauties see,
inc CIrnr fllfl a m NV


As the years go on, there gathers
special radiance of eternal youth around |
some of the figures from whom all our
hopes in this world have been most sharp
Y severed. There are lives so rounded |
md crowned by their completed deeds |
,f love, that Death seems to have appear
I'd in the fullness of their prime only to
,onsecrate them for ever; others stand |
apart from human ties in solitude |
which makes time seem of little conse-
Iuence, and the grave not unfamiliar
In all these cases we may even
low see fitness in what, according to
mere reckoning of time, would be called
And if we can catch |
glimpses of these things from without,
here are no doubt many inward dramas
which refuse to square themselves with
he external framework of human life
We do not know to what unfathomable
necessities the times and seasons of life |
nd death may correspond/ and as little
10 we know, in looking at each others
ives, what may be unfolding or what
nay be concluded, as seen from within.
That which seems to others cutting
hort of activity, may be to ourselves the
aging down of arms no longer needed;
ur eyes may see the haven, where our
riends can see only the storm; or if we
annot see a fitness in the time of our
leath, is that strange thing in such
ife as this