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then, who are to-day in the outer courts of this holy place of Christian sorrow linger only among grieving—much less bitter—thoughts. Rather let us gather up with quiet thankfulness the blessings (there is no other kind so true) which God has once more given in a Christian's life. The best that is in each of us lives by and is wrought out of the best that we have seen and known, and comes to us ministered, as it were, by certain figures, who live in our memory, and to whom, in times of difficulty, or trouble, or sin, our thoughts instinctively turn. They are our best stand-by. They reassure us, and give us hope; they give us quiet rebuke, but they inspire us, too; they call us back, and call us on. They are our witnesses of what life may be. Their power over us is the strongest and gentlest that there is. Am I wrong in thinking that in the heart of many a House-man for many a year one of the forces that will make for purity, and tenderness, and simple conscientiousness of daily living, and self-forgetfulness for others' sake will be the uneffaced picture of her who was indeed the lady of the House during their undergraduate days? The memory of a life with the dignity and freedom of entire simplicity, with something in it still of the brightness of a girl, but enlarged by the tenderness of mother and wife to take in every gladness or sorrow of others' lives.
