Few would have thought that the death of a quiet lad of seventeen would have been so widely felt,so sincerely mourned;but virtue,like sunshine,works its own sweet miracles,and when it was known that never again would the bright face be seen in the village streets,the cheery voice heard,the loving heart felt in any of the little acts which so endeared Ed Devlin to those about him,it seemed as if young and old grieved alike for so much promise cut off in its spring-time.This was proved at the funeral,for,though it took place at the busy hour of a busy day,men left their affairs,women their households,young people their studies and their play,and gave an hour to show their affection,respect,and sympathy for those who had lost so much.
The girls had trimmed the church with all the sweetest flowers they could find,and garlands of lilies of the valley robbed the casket of its mournful look.The boys had brought fresh boughs to make the grave a green bed for their comrade's last sleep.Now they were all gathered together,and it was a touching sight to see the rows of young faces sobered and saddened by their first look at sorrow.The girls sobbed,and the boys set their lips tightly as their glances fell upon the lilies under which the familiar face lay full of solemn peace.Tears dimmed older eyes when the hymn the dead boy loved was sung,and the pastor told with how much pride and pleasure he had watched the gracious growth of this young parishioner since he first met the lad of twelve and was attracted by the shining face,the pleasant manners.Dutiful and loving;ready to help;patient to bear and forbear;eager to excel;faithful to the smallest task,yet full of high ambitions;and,better still,possessing the childlike piety that can trust and believe,wait and hope.Good and happy--the two things we all long for and so few of us truly are.This he was,and this single fact was the best eulogy his pastor could pronounce over the beloved youth gone to a nobler manhood whose promise left so sweet a memory behind.
As the young people looked,listened,and took in the scene,they felt as if some mysterious power had changed their playmate from a creature like themselves into a sort of saint or hero for them to look up to,and imitate if they could.'What has he done,to be so loved,praised,and mourned?"they thought,with a tender sort of wonder;and the answer seemed to come to them as never before,for never had they been brought so near the solemn truth of life and death."It was not what he did but what he was that made him so beloved.All that was sweet and noble in him still lives;for goodness is the only thing we can take with us when we die,the only thing that can comfort those we leave behind,and help us to meet again hereafter."This feeling was in many hearts when they went away to lay him,with prayer and music,under the budding oak that leaned over his grave,a fit emblem of the young life just beginning its new spring.
As the children did their part,the beauty of the summer day soothed their sorrow,and something of the soft brightness of the June sunshine seemed to gild their thoughts,as it gilded the flower-strewn mound they left behind.The true and touching words spoken cheered as well as impressed them,and made them feel that their friend was not lost but gone on into a higher class of the great school whose Master is eternal love and wisdom.So the tears soon dried,and the young faces looked up like flowers after rain.But the heaven-sent shower sank into the earth,and they were the stronger,Sweeter for it,more eager to make life brave and beautiful,because death had gently shown them what it should be.
When the boys came home they found their mother already returned,and Jill upon the parlor sofa listening to her account of the funeral with the same quiet,hopeful look which their own faces wore;for somehow the sadness seemed to have gone,and a sort of Sunday peace remained.