d the discipline of bereavement
in temporal things, to win us to things eternal. And so, in their
departure, the loved accomplish for us a blessed and spiritual result,
and instead of being wholly lost to us, become bound to us by a new and
vital relation.

But these loved ones depart, no merely to bind our affections to another
state, but to fit us better for the obligations of this. Perhaps, in the
indulgence of full communion, in the liquid ease of prosperity, we have
scantily discharged our social duties. We have not appreciated love,
because we have never felt its absence. We have shocked the tenderest
ties, because we were ignorant of their tenderness. We have withheld
good offices, because we knew not how rare is the opportunity to fulfil
them. But when one whom we love passes away, then, realizing a great
loss, we learn how vital was that relation, how inestimable the
privilege which is withdrawn forever. How quick then is our regret
for every harsh word which we have spoken to the departed, or for any
momentary alienation which we have indulged! This, however, should not
reduce us to a morbid sensitiveness, or an unavailing sorrow, seeing
that it is blended with so many pleasant memories; but it should teach
us our duty to the living. It should make our affections more diligent
and dutiful. It should check our hasty words, and assuage our passions.
It should cause us, day and night, to meet in kindness and part in
peace. Our social ties are golden links of uncertain tenure, and, one by
one, they drop away. Let us cherish a more constant love for those who
make up our family circle, for "not long may we stay." The allotments of
duty, perhaps, will soon distribute us into different spheres of action;
our lines, which now fall together in a pleasant place, will be wide
apart as the zones, or death will cast his shadow upon these familiar
faces, and interrupt our long communion. Let us, indeed, preserve this
temper with all men--those who meet us in the street, in the mart, in
the most casual or selfish concerns of life. We cannot remain together a
great while, at the longest. Let us meet, then, with kindness, that when
we part no pang may remain. Let not a single day bear witness to the
neglect or violation of any duty which shall lie hard in the heart when
it is excited to tender and solemn recollections. Let only good-will
beam from faces that so soon shall be changed. Let no root of bitterness
spring up in one