m we, with earthly vision
behold no more; visiting us in hours of loneliness, and affording unseen
companionship; watching us in the stillness of slumber, and reflecting
themselves in our dreams.

But, whether we indulge this notion or not, let us realize the relation
which we have with the departed by the ties of mutual spirituality. Let
us not coldly restrict or weaken this relation. If the material world is
full of inexplicable things,--if we cannot explain the secret affinities
of the star and the flower,--let us feel how full of mystery and how
full of promise is this spiritual universe of which we are parts, and
whose conditions we so little know. Let us cherish that transcendent
faith, that quick, spiritual sympathy, which says of the departed, "They
are not dead, but sleeping."

III. Finally, we have with the dead the relation of discipline. Though
we should see them only in the abstractions of memory,--though it should
be true that they have no spiritual intercourse with us,--yet their
agency in our behalf has not ceased. They still accomplish a work for
us. That work is in the moral efficacy of bereavement and sorrow. In
their going away they lead our thoughts out beyond the limits of the
world. They quicken us to an interest in the spiritual land, as one who
looks upon a map, and listlessly reads the name of some foreign shore,
so, often, do we open this blessed revelation not heeding its recital of
the immortal state. But as, when some friend goes to that distant coast,
that spot on the map becomes, of all places, most vivid and prominent,
so when our loved ones die, the spiritual country largely occupies our
thoughts and attracts our affections. They depart that we may be weaned
from earth. They ascend that we may "look steadfastly towards heaven."
If this is not our everlasting home, why should they all remain here
to cheat us with that thought? If we must seek a better country, should
there not be premonitions for us, breaking up, and farewells, and the
hurried departure of friends who are ready before us? I need not dwell
on this suggestion. We are too much of the earth, earthy, and bound
up in sensual interests. It is often needful that some shock of
disappointment should shake our idea of terrestrial stability--should
awake us to a sense of our spiritual relations--should strike open some
chasm in this dead, material wall, and let in the light of the unlimited
and immortal state to which we go. We nee