The age-herald., 1900-12-23
THE MURMUR OF THE WORLD.

steadily upon the rose-bordered pathway of humanity's wider loves and nobler pur- poses.
 Yet doubt not thro' the ages one increas-
 ing purpose runs,
 And the thoughts of men are widen'd with
 the process of the suns.
 What is that to him that reaps not harvest
 of youthful joys,
 Tho the deep heart of existence beat for
 ever like boys?
 We of today may hold it with him who prayed long ago that God might pity all who vainly the dreams of youth recall; for none has lived worthily who would wish the years to roll backward to the songful dawn when folly ran riot in sow ing the seeds of long and regretful after whiles harvest times of wasted and mis- applied opportunities None has lived who would not undo some deeds done when life was younger and wisdom beyond reach, but emotional impulses to that end are trumpet-calls to present duties, obli gations, and chance in the full flower of it's passing. None is without regret, but with all who strive after truth regret for remembered things or unforgotten failures is as pictures turned to the wall and shaded in the mists of happier years
 Even so, every heart treasures some sor- row, great or small; some shadow that did fall in life's long ago, now come to be, &C., cepted and embraced of the spirit which without it would feel a sense of lonesomeness in it's later joys, the priceless possessions of happier days come upon the wings of faithful endeavor. Half our happiness comes through the black gates of grief my be- loved; and today and, tomorrow and in all the long-drawn afterwhiles, the angel guest will STill thr0nPh gates of suffering best
 That intangible terror which careers upon the viewless wind and marks its trail in the hearts of little children and loving wo- men leaves something sweeter than the emotions aroused when rude health, roys- tering, blundered upon the doorstep and thundered across the threshold of the place the world calls by name of home. The wfd- ow's weeping the orphans plaint, these stir the melodies of heaven and unbar the gates of bliss. Such sorrow as this is the golden key to the citadel of prayer and to them who pray there can never come any lasting gloom here or in the hereafter. Given a woman of prayer, child whose soul is so attuned, and we have paradise here amongst us upon this earth.
 This plea of love for love is not meant to be holiday preaching, my beloved; it is merely saying to you what is in your own spirits; we leave preaching 10 the preach CTS. If anything Is meant by this time of merriment and feasting; of giving and re- ceivng; of loving and rejoicing, when man. kinds poor find warmer place in the great soul of mankind it means the one supreme and ever-present fact that truth is Truth as taught us of the fathers And this Truth is essential in all the offices and af- fairs of life and love. Take this from one who has touched all the deeps and the shoals of physical pain and spiritual un- l4.N.aW Cf h1aa est night struggled bitterly unto the morn- ing, though it was almost written that day should never break.
 This time of gladness is the Chirst-tide. It is that and nothing less, and as such it is yours it is mankind's and so may all the children of men rejoice in exceeding great gladness.
 And then they say no spirit dares stir
 abroad;
 The nights are wholesome; then no planets
 strike,
 No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to
 charm,
 So hallow'd and so gracious is the time.
 
 Love strikes the chord of Self, which in music passes out of sight making for the blessedness of charity, of generous-heart- edness, and for the congregation of men and women in the empire of kindly light.
 Lead, kindly light, lead thou me on, is a prayer calling for devout utterance~ from every one amongst us in these hours of good cheer
 Lead us away from Self and lead us unto one another in comradeship, in love, In goodness and in happiness; lead us on to where charity sits by the wayside with out stretched hand in mute appeal to human souls; lead us to where pain holds our fel- 1. lows in burning bonds of moaning, and to where sorrow broods in bitterness and in