18.  What now remains?  To bring the healing of the Word to those in sorrow.  And a powerful remedy for mourners is sympathy, for sufferers are best consoled by those who have to bear a like suffering.  To such, then, I specially address myself, of whom I should be ashamed, if, with all other virtues, they do not show the elements of patience.  For even if they surpass all others in love of their children, let them equally surpass them in love of wisdom and love of Christ, and in the special practice of meditation on our departure hence, impressing it likewise on their children, making even their whole life a preparation for death.  But if your misfortune still clouds your reason and, like the moisture which dims our eyes, hides from you the clear view of your duty, come, ye elders, receive the consolation of a young man, ye fathers, that of a child, who ought to be admonished by men as old as you, who have admonished many and gathered experience from your many years.  Yet wonder not, if in my youth I admonish the aged; and if in aught I can see better than the hoary, I offer it to you.  How much longer have we to live, ye men of honoured eld, so near to God?  How long are we to suffer here?  Not even man’s whole life is long, compared with the Eternity of the Divine Nature, still less the remains of life, and what I may call the parting of our human breath, the close of our frail existence.  How much has Cæsarius outstripped us?  How long shall we be left to mourn his departure?  Are we not hastening to the same abode?  Shall we not soon be covered by the same stone?  Shall we not shortly be reduced to the same dust?  And what in these short days will be our gain, save that after it has been ours to see, or suffer, or perchance even to do, more ill, we must discharge the common and inexorable tribute to the law of nature, by following some, preceding others, to the tomb, mourning these, being lamented by those, and receiving from some that meed of tears which we ourselves had paid to others?