The mirror. (Stillwater, Minn.) 1894-1925, 1902-05-15
sTILLWATER, MINNESOTA THURSDAY, 5 1902 Il
ma. ! Shopper year, in advance
Six Months 30 cents,

TeRMa.J Shopper year, in advance
Six Months 30 cents.
there is one elemental residue left in
the crucible where our lives are mould
ed and perfected. That one is Char
acter. Above mere intelligence, above
intellectual potentiality, above all else,
it represents the substance, the guam
tity, the weight, the force of the indi-
vidual life in its relation to the moral
universe. This ultimate analysis shows
the man himself for good or Ill and
from it, if he has acted according to his
own beliefs of right and justice, he has
no reason to shrink. The one who
leads temperate life; who is kind,
virtuous and consistent; who is just to
his fellow men, that one 1 say has
reached the highest pinnacle in this
worlds goods. Such one does right,
not because of the Ten Commandments,
the laws of Moses or any.other statutes,
sacred or profane, nor from the hope
of future reward or the dread of
punishment, but simply because right
is right
If there is book of eternal remem-
brance in which the deeds ct men are
written, it must contain first on its
roll of honor the names of those who
did right simply for the sake of right.
And will it be too much to say that
possibly we too may some day be
privileged to be included in that roll?
know that we are prone to look life
drearily in the face when the world
seems to have gone against.us, when
those whom we esteemed as friends
seem to have deserted us, when those
who are bound to usIby ties of blood
seem to have forgotten the duty they
owe their kindred-at such times, [
say, we are apt to take sombre view
of life; and when our cup of sorrow
and bitterness seems especially full, to
wish that we were dead-as if that
would end it alias if our lives would
become like tale that is told-our,
epitaph, The End.
Worlds incredibly distant send their
messages to us in the lines of the
spectrum, but from that other world,
the Hereafter, no word has ever come.
That is the veil through which we
cannot see; that Master Knot of hu-
man fate has, never been unraveled;
| before it Reason is baffied and silent.
Should we then abandon hope, and feel
that on the shore of the future there
are no beacon lights burning for us2
Should we believe that it matters not
what we do or think, that it behooves
us not to try to better our lot and rise
above the present surroundings, in
which some of us are placed by force
of circumstances possibly beyond our
control? At least one thing is certain
we do not-it seems we cannot
know what the future contains. And
because of this the human heart will
ever hope and pray that it can rise
again and resume its former standing
in the world, no matter how low it may
have fallen; that those who were once
dear to it will again become friends as
of old; that the old ties of home will
again be united, and that at last when
this life is over we will ,pass from life
to life through the Valley of the Shad-
ow of Death; where each of us shall
retain that personality that bound us
one to another; where we shall be at
peace mo prison, no broken family
ties, no sorrowing mothers, no aching
hearts.
And in the meantime we owe it to
ourselves to be cheerful; doing our
duty day by day as it comes; realizing
that we are doing our share, however
small, towards the advancement of
humankind; that we are cog in the
wheel of destiny, and that the end will
portray the mind of the Master Worker
attaining the goal he planned centu-
ries ago.
No lovelier thought was ever penned
than is contained in the lines of an al
most unknown poet:
| I watched sail until 1t dropped outlof sight
Over the rounding sea. A gleam Of white
! A last, flashed farewell. And like thought
lSiip'd out Of mind 1t vanished and was mot.
R.O. E..