on transforms the condition of the departed for us, and
we consider them not as dead, but sleeping.

II. There is another relation which we have with the dead,--the relation
of spiritual existence. We live with them, not only by communion with
the past, by images of memory, but by that fine, mysterious bond which
links us to all souls, and in which we live with them now and forever.
The faith that has converted death into a sleep has also transformed the
whole idea of life. If the one is but a halt in the eternal march,--a
slumbrous rest preceeding a new morning,--the other is but the flow
of one continuous stream, mated awhile with the flesh, but far more
intimately connected with all intelligences in the universe of God. What
are the conditions of our communion with the living--those with whom we
come in material contact? The eye, the lip, the hand, are but symbols,
interpretations;--behind these it is only spirit that communes with
spirit, even in the market or the street. But not to enter into so
subtle a discussion, of what kind are some of the best communions which
we have on earth? We take up some wise and virtuous book, and enter into
the author's mind. Seas separate us from him,--he knows us not; he never
hears our names. But have we not a close relation to him? Is there not
a strong bond of spiritual communion between us? Nay, may not the
intercourse we thus have with him be better and truer than any which we
could have from actual contact,--from local acquaintance? Then, some icy
barrier of etiquette might separate us,--some coldness of temperament
upon his part,--some spleen or disease; we might be shocked by some
temporary deformity; some little imperfection might betray itself. But
here, in his book, which we read three thousand miles away from him, we
receive his noblest thoughts,--his best spiritual revelations; and we
know him, and commune with him most intimately, not through local but
through spiritual affinities.

And how pleasing is the though that not even death interrupts this
relation. Years, as well as miles--ages may separate us from the great
and good man; but we hold with him still that living communion of the
spirit. Our best life may flow to us from this communion. Some of our
richest spiritual treasures have been deposited in this intercourse of
thought. Some of our noblest hopes and resolutions have been animated by
those whose lips have long since been sealed,--whose very monuments have