374 THE OLIVE LEAF. CHAP, 



mound of the churchyard, as Gehazi laid the prophet's 

 staff upon the face of the dead child ; but, while the 

 lower lives on the surface of the mound, that come 

 there and show the sympathy of nature, rise out of 

 their sleep at the touch the grass roots sending forth 

 their green blades, and the daisies opening their round 

 eyes in wonderment there is no response from the 

 precious dust beneath. Ashes to ashes and dust to 

 dust still maintain their physical connection. 



To the pagan, all was hopeless ! The runners in the 

 Promethean games of old set out in the contest bearing 

 each a lighted torch ; and he gained the prize who first 

 came to the goal with his torch still burning. But at 

 the goal of death the torch of victor and vanquished 

 alike was extinguished ; and no wiser or bolder spirit 

 could carry it burning into the unexplored darkness 

 beyond. On the tomb its image was carved, turned 

 upside-down, never more to be lighted. Death was 

 the eternal farewell ; and the handful of human ashes 

 in the cinerary urn was only rescued for a little while 

 from its ultimate fate of mingling with the indistinguish- 

 able elements of the universe. Even the Hebrew faith 

 itself could scarcely imagine that any conscious beauty 

 could ever come from such ashes; and its helpless cry 

 ascended up to the pitiless heaven, "Wilt thou show 

 wonders to the dead?" And, in our days, cruel science 

 comes and employs all its strength in ruthlessly rolling 

 a great stone to the mouth of the sepulchre. It tells 

 us that nature has nothing to suggest regarding a resur- 

 rection, nothing indeed that can be used as the faintest 



