Your Fathers, where are they? your prophets, do they live for ever? Inspiration propounds these questions. What shall we say? Where are the fathers? Their bodies are in their graves. Do the prophets live? All that was mortal of them is dead. But they are nevertheless alive. Their souls are alive—their characters are alive; these can never die. The thought which my text suggests, and to which I invite your prayerful consideration, is, THE LIFE OF THE DEPARTED, OR THE LIVING DEAD. The popular idea is, that when man dies, his work on earth terminates. This, in one sense, is true; but, in another, it is not true. You may cover up a man’s body in the grave; but you cannot confine his influence to these narrow limits. Man’s character is immortal. Our words and our actions reverberate through all succeeding ages; and their echoes are repeated amid the solemn scenes of eternity. Man, as he passes through the world, inscribes his name in imperishable lines upon its tablets; and these will be read and re-read by those who come after him; and every reading will make its impression, and exert its influence, for weal or for woe—for life or for death—for heaven or for hell. This is true of the wicked as well as the just. Cain speaks as well as Abel. We hear them both, and are influenced by the testimony which they give. The utterance of once is a word of awful warning; but the language of the other is full of consolation and hope. It is true of every man that has slept in death from the days of Adam, that “he being dead yet speaketh,” no matter where he lived, or when he died. He may have dwelt amid the splendours of a gorgeous palace, or have occupied a hut in the wilderness; he may have swayed the destinies of empire, or have been ruled with a rod of iron; he may have luxuriated in boundless wealth, or have felt the crushing power of pinching poverty. Still, when he departed this life, he transmitted an influence to his successors, which can never be extinguished. There is no such thing as a perfect blank in human life. We cannot be neutral if we would. The author of our being has so linked us in association with those around us, that we must necessarily live and act in them and through them, when our bodies have returned to dust. Such is the law of our being, and from this law there is no appeal. How awfully impressive, therefore, are the responsibilities of life—the life of a Christian—the life of a sinner. It is a solemn thing to die; but is it not equally solemn to live? Death is solemn, because it is the gateway to eternity. Life is solemn, because it is a preparation for eternity, and because it is all the time uttering words, and performing acts which are invested with the attributes of immortality.