man who means execution, which outlives the most untimely ending.
All who have meant good work with their whole hearts, have done good
work, although they may die before they have the time to sign it. Every
heart that has beat strong and cheerfully has left a hopeful impulse
behind it in the world, and bettered the tradition of mankind.

*****

Now the man who has his heart on his sleeve, and a good whirling
weathercock of a brain, who reckons his life as a thing to be dashingly
used and cheerfully hazarded, makes a very different acquaintance of the
world, keeps all his pulses going true and fast, and gathers impetus as
he runs, until, if he be running towards anything better than wildfire,
he may shoot up and become a constellation in the end.

*****

When the time comes that he should go, there need be few illusions left
about himself. Here lies one who meant well, tried a little, failed
much:-surely that may be his epitaph, of which he need not be ashamed,
nor will he complain at the summons which calls a defeated soldier from
the field; defeated, ay, if he were Paul or Marcus Aurelius!--but if
there is still one inch of fight in his old spirit, undishonoured.
The faith which sustained him in his lifelong blindness and lifelong
disappointment will scarce even be required in this last formality of
laying down his arms. Give him a march with his old bones; there, out
of the glorious sun-coloured earth, out of the day and the dust and the
ecstasy-there goes another Faithful Failure.

*****

We are apt to make so much of the tragedy of the tragedy of death, and
think so little of the enduring tragedy of some men's lives, that we
see more to lament for in a life cut off in the midst of usefulness and
love, than in one that miserably survives all love and usefulness, and
goes about the world the phantom of itself, without hope, or joy, or any
consolation.

*****

'You are a strange physician,' said Will, looking steadfastly upon his
guest.

'I am a natural law,' he replied, 'and people call me Death.'

'Why did you not tell me so at first?' cried Will.

'I have been waiting for you these many years. Give me your hand, and
welcome.'

*****

Under the wide and starry sky
Dig the grave and let me lie.
Glad did I live, and gladly die,
And I laid me down with a will.

This be the verse you grave for me:
Here he lies where he longed to be;
Home is the sailor, home from t