eternal purposes. When commending the departed to Him, naturally our
words will be chastened and restrained because we know somewhat less of
the conditions of the "intermediate state" than we do of those of our
own dispensation. Somewhat less; for how little do we really understand
of the circumstances around us now in all their bearings as they lie
open beneath the eye of God. Therefore it is that whenever we pray we
must ask in full submission to our own limitations and in the spirit of
the Master, "Nevertheless not my will, but Thine be done."

Thank God this matter is not one of argument; no, it lies in another
plane: the innate feeling of one who really knows what prayer means and
who has grasped in some degree the doctrine of the "Communion of
Saints."

A pious evangelical, well fortified with arguments against prayer for
the departed, had been nursing her sick sister and taking care of the
little daughter of the house. The sister died, and the same evening
the motherless girl knelt down at her aunt's side to say her prayers.
"Auntie, may I say God bless dear mother?" The whole drift of the aunt's
training and theology would have led her to say "No" point blank. There
was no time for argument or explanation, for facing the inevitable "If
not, why not?" The instincts of natural religion prevailed; the aunt
replied, "Yes, dear"; and from that day onward never failed herself to
say, when remembering her dear ones, "God bless my sister."

Whatever the effect of such prayers in the other world, there is no
shade of doubt that to the bereaved they bring an infinite sense of
nearness to their beloved, and of the reality of the life of the world
to come.