r hearts of
the way in which we should look at death for ourselves, and for our
dearest. Their very withdrawal may send us nearer to Christ. The holy
memories which linger in the sky, like the radiance of a sunken sun, may
clothe familiar truths with unfamiliar power and loveliness. The thought
of where the departed have gone may lift our thoughts wistfully thither
with a new feeling of home. The path that they have trodden may become
less strange to us, and the victory that they have won may prophesy that
we too shall be 'more than conquerors through Him that loveth us.' So
the mirror broken may turn us to the sun, and the passing of the dearest
that can die may draw us to the Dearer who lives.

Paul, living, rejoiced in the prospect of death. We may be sure that he
rejoiced in it no less dead than living. And we may permissibly think of
this text as suggesting how

'The saints on earth and all the dead
But one communion make,'

and are to be united in one joy. They rejoice for their own sakes, but
their joy is not self-absorbed, and so putting them farther away from
us. They look back upon earth, the runnings and labourings of the
unforgotten life here; and are glad to bear in their hearts the
indubitable token that they have 'not run in vain neither laboured in
vain.' But surely the depth of their own repose will not make them
indifferent to those who are still in the midst of struggle and toil,
nor the fulness of their own felicity make them forget those whom they
loved of old, and love now with the perfect love of Heaven. It is hard
for us to rise to complete sympathy with these serenely blessed spirits,
but yet we too should rejoice. Not indeed to the exclusion of sorrow,
nor to the neglect of the great purpose to be effected in us by the
withdrawal, as by the presence of dear ones, the furtherance of our
faith, but having made sure that that purpose has been effected in us,
we should then give solemn thanksgivings if it has. It is sad and
strange to think of how opposite are the feelings about their departure,
of those who have gone and of those who are left. Would it not be better
that we should try to share theirs and so bring about a true union? We
may be sure that their deepest desire is that we should. If some lips
that we shall never hear any more, till we come where they are, could
speak, would not they bring to us as their message from Heaven, Do 'ye
also joy and rejoice with me'?