Fourth Day
You have, perhaps, stood at the grave, and seen the earth cover the remains of a dear one. It may have been the remains of the most beloved one you ever knew. Oh, how you stood in need of consolation! There were moments when you felt as if your heart must break. Yet when faith came to your aid, and you remembered that the separation was only for a time, that the moment of reunion would come, and you would again see the dear one, only purified, glorified, and free from all the blemishes life on earth entails, there was an awakening, a consolation, a strengthening, which no other thought could bring. With this new feeling came the resolve to help the one gone by such gifts as your love would dictate and your faith direct. What if that dear one was condemned to tarry in a place of purgation? What if you by your good works and prayers could assist, but instead spent your time in fruitless lament and regrets? Then it was that you felt all your old love quicken, and the eagerness which had led you to care for the loved one in life, received a new incentive. You recollected that the time in which he could help himself had passed, and he had to rely entirely on the good services of his friends—that the hand of God was to lay heavy upon him until the full measure of expiation had been paid. There is comfort in the reflection that we can still be of service to those we loved in life; we can be charitable to them, and improve ourselves by the practice of that charity. The true Christian mourns his friends, but he mourns over them, not with a vain hope, but with a prayerful appeal to the throne of mercy.
Prayer.
Release, O Lord, etc., etc.