oor Carlyle's sorrow, which was oftentimes aught
but noble, if all tales be true, was sufficient to endow us with the
most splendid of modern books. It is strange to see how that crabbed
man with the passionately-loving heart keeps harping on the
beneficence of sorrow. Once he spoke of "Sorrow's fire-whips"; but
usually his strain is far, far different. He cleaves to the noble and
sorrowful figures that crowd his sombre galleries; and I do not know
that he ever gives more than a light and careless word of praise to
any but his melancholy heroes. Cromwell, Abbot Sampson, the bold
Ziethen, Danton, Mirabeau, Mahomet, Burns, "the great, melancholy
Johnson," and even Napoleon and Luther--all are sorrowful, all are
beautiful. Peace to them, and peace to the strong soul that made them
all live again for the world!

XXIV.

DEATH.

The air of mystery which most of us assume when we speak about the
great change that marks the bound of our mortal progress has
engendered a kind of paralysing terror which makes ordinary people
shudder at the notion of bodily extinction. We are glad enough to
enjoy the beautiful things of life, we welcome the rapture of love,
the delight of the sun, the promise of spring, the glory of strength;
and yet forsooth we must needs tremble at the grand beneficent close
which rounds off our earthly strivings and completes one stage in our
everlasting progress. Why should we not speak as frankly of Death as
we do of love and life? If men would only be content to let their
minds play freely around all the facts that concern our entrance, our
progress, our exit, then existence would be relieved from the presence
of terror. The Greeks were more rational than we are; they took the
joys of life with serenity and gladness, and they accepted the mighty
transformation with the same serenity. On their memorial-stones there
is no note of mourning. A young man calmly bids adieu to his friends
and prepares to pass with dignity from their presence; a gallant
horseman exults in the knowledge that he once rejoiced in life--"Great
joy had I on earth, and now I that came from the earth return to the
earth." Such are the carvings and inscriptions that show the wise,
brave spirit of the ancients. But we, with our civilisation, behave
somewhat like those Indian tribes who keep one mysterious word in
their minds, and try to avoid mentioning it throughout their lives.
Even in familiar conversation it is amusing to hear