The memory of the just.
I. THE WORLD CONCERNS ITSELF WITH THE REPUTATION OF THE DEAD. The words of our text describe a fact to which all history bears witness. No study is more absorbing than history—including biography; and the most interesting part of history is that which deals with individuals and discusses character. In spite of the protests of the philosophers, we are all more attracted by Shakespeare and Scott than by Hallam and Buckle. Statistics, generalizations, great laws and principles of national growth, all have their claims on our attention; but the characters of individual men appeal to us with a quite different human interest. Even the most commonplace gossip of the streetcorner has some justification in the element of sympathy with things human that it presupposes.
II. THE MOST IMPORTANT ELEMENT IN POSTHUMOUS REPUTATION IS CHARACTER. Who cares for Croesus? But the slave Epictetus takes a high place in the world's thoughts. The reputation for wealth that brings fawning flatterers in a man's lifetime is the first to fade after death. So is that of empty titles. The present duke—say the seventh—is treated with the deference considered due to rank, but no one cares to ask in what the third duke differed from the fourth duke. Even the dazzling conqueror's renown soon tarnishes if it is not preserved by higher qualities. Few men now envy the reputation of Napoleon. Genius, perhaps, carries off amongst men the palm of fame; the first place, which is due to character, is reserved for the next world. Still, moral character counts for more in common human reputation than the cynical are ready to admit. At all events, in that inner circle where a man would most care for his reputation this takes its right place. If it is better to be loved at home than to be admired abroad, it is better to leave a fragrant memory for goodness in one's own circle than to leave sorrow in the home and to reap grand funeral honours in the outside world. It is remarkable to observe how fair is the verdict of history. A hypocrite may deceive his contemporaries. He can rarely deceive future generations.
III. IT IS OUR DUTY TO CHERISH THE MEMORY OF THE JUST. This is a duty we owe to them, to righteousness, and to succeeding ages. The honest canonization that comes from no papal authority, but from the honest conviction of admiring multitudes, is worthy tribute to goodness. Still, let us beware of the mockery of substituting this for our duty to the living—building splendid tombs to the prophets whom we have slain. How often have great men been slighted, misunderstood, cruelly wronged, during their lifetime; and then honoured by a chorus of repentant praise as soon as death has taken them beyond the reach of it! On the other hand, beware of indiscriminate adulation of the dead. There is wholesome truth in the words, "The name of the wicked shall rot." Nothing is more false than the common style of epitaphs. A visit to a graveyard would suggest that the world was a paradise of immaculate saints. Where you cannot justly praise, at least be decently silent. Left to itself, the name of the wicked will melt away and vanish—as all rotten things do.
IV. IT IS PROFITABLE TO CONSIDER THE LESSONS LEFT BY THE LIVES OF THE DEPARTED. We need not go the length of the early Christians, who, beginning by meeting in the catacombs where the martyrs were buried, soon came to worship the martyrs as demi-gods. But we may gain great good by contemplating the beauty of good lives. If we cherish the memory of those who have gone "to join the choir invisible," we may be helped to emulate their noble qualities.