The Irish standard. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn. ;) 1886-1920, 1909-11-13
A TIMELY DISCOURSE
ON DEPARTED SOULS
The Most Pleasing Trait in a
Nation or Individual is the
Remembrance of Friends
Who Rest in the Lord--Our
Cemeteries For us are Hal
lowed Places Where Re-
pose the Mortal Remains of
our Beloved ones.

kOOS SAAS AvA0A SoA A\OAAAoAAAA0 VI
our Beloved ones.
The following sermon on departed
souls was recently preached by Rev.
Timothy Brennan in the Cathedral OF
Salt Lake City:
Our graveyards, dearly beloved
brethren, are for us hallowed places,
for there rest the mortal remains of
our dear ones, whom we loved so ten
derly on earth, and from whom we
parted so sorrowfully when death stole
in and took them from our midst. There
are vacant chairs in every home. Hang
ing on the walls, and over the mantel-
piece, are the sweet silent faces of
loved ones, whom we shall nevermore
see in this changing world. With
some it is the mother who is missing
the mother whom, when gone, none
gel Of the home is she, and in sorrows
darkest hour in fair fortunes bright
est, the true mothers heart knows on
ly one beat, and that hearts beat is
love for her children, and, when death
comes and snatches her away, their
loss cannot be measured. In other
homes the vacant chair belonged to a
father. His children, ah, how we'll they
remember his loved form. Many an
evening in the glad past have they met
him at the little. gate before the door
as he returned from bis daily work,
and when he saw them, he forgot his
labors, he forgot his sorrows. The
smile Of happiness lit up his honest
face as he greeted them and took the
youngest and the weakest of his little
ones in his sturdy arms, and carried
, it with joy into the home, where the
patient, true, loving wife was waiting.
This world has had many heroes, many
saints, but oh, none so heroic none so
sanity as the virtuous, constant, faith
full, loving father and mother, who
live for their God and their little ones.
The vacant chair in other homes was
once filled by strong, true brother,
or gentle, loving sister. Many a day
in the happy past have they journeyed
with us to the village school or knelt
! with us before Gods altar in the little
| chapel. Their foot was f1eetest on the
,,lo &lots,
gladdest music in the old home. Death
came and took them from us and then
we felt as if the sun had gone out Of
our lives. With many of us it is a fell
low worker whom we miss. In the
days past he toiled by our side out
there on Utah's mountains, and the
presence gave us courage and hope.
We ever had the strength of his right
arm, we ever held the friendship Of
| his true, honest heart, and the cheer
Of his kindly, sympathetic voice was as
glad music to our ear. One day he
said his last goodbye to us and then
we laid him down to sleep in the lit
tie graveyard on the hill. His pick
lies outside his log hut, his coat hangs
upon a peg inside the door. He is
gone into the shadows. Life is but q
meeting and a parting.
"There is no flock, however watched
and tender,
| Rut ono dead lamb is there
There is no fireside howsoe'er defend
| ed,
But has one vacant chair"
Our graveyards, dearly beloved. are
a day set apart on which her children
in life visit her children in death to
lay upon the graves there tokens of
+, remembrance and love. Watch the 81
lent groups of old and young, men and
women in the winter, the autumn and
the summer of life, and the boys and
girls in the fresh, hopeful spring; see
how reverently they tread around those
hallowed mounds, each one endeavor-
ing to hear, as it were, the familiar
the loved accents of the tongue that Is
now silent forever, each one endeavor-
ing to peer through the mists Of death
) to catch once more a glimpse Of the
face that in this life they shall never
more gaze upon. Yes, yes, as those
1everent groups stand there, there is a
deep. sad silence about each; deep
sad silence which speaks palmer thar
words.
ooh, for a touch Of a vanished hand
And the sound of voice that Is STILL