Honolulu star-bulletin. [volume] (Honolulu [Oahu, Hawaii]) 1912-2010, 1912-09-21

them we have kind OF baptism and
conservation. They bind US to recti-
Itude,. they commit US to God. they
lpledge US TO heaven, by their pure
belief about us; and our sins become
the worst kind OF blasphemy against
their high and hopeful opinions of rs.
sort of sacrilege which With Inn
picus hands tears down the invisible
altar OF their holy, trust. E
Escrow an Angel.
| II name one more angel, Sorrow.
When our friends so, we try to be
brave. We try to- think that our loss
is their gain. and we try to be willing
and submissive But the hurt gets no
relief as the days go by. The room
/ is as empty as ever. and as silent as
ever, and the ache In the heart is no
less relentless in its pain. The prime
Solace for sorrow Is service. The
Lesson is to think more Of others and
less of self, and by doing thus trans
figure our own sadness. Those inner
rewards of helpfulness and duty done
will sweeten into an experience full
of exceeding and gracious repose. Pain
is translated into peace, and at last
our happiest memories under the light
of our conservation to the good OF
others will be those which are light
ed by dead friends face. Then our
thought of them will be our heaven
spot, and our life. like the fair city OF
the Apocalypse, will have no need of
sun or moon, for the glory of the
faces of those that we have helped
and blessed will tighten it.
There is story that years ago in
Switzerland traitors rose up and ban
ished from his city and his kingdom
noble ruler. In peasant garb he
derer from his own inheritance. AS
time went on men missed their king
and longed again for his old rule of
righteousness And SO they sent am
bassadors to foreign lands to find
and bring him back. In distant
country they found that he had made
a name and built . castle. and at
night the exiled prince heard beneath
his window the old rude stirring song
bis childhood heard his mother sing
amid the hills of Switzerland Emo
ton and tumnltuous longing filled his
soul to look once more upon the ma
iestic mountains of his native land.
And when morning dawned he left his
castle and, arrayed as pilgrim, turn
ed his face toward the free city among
the Alps, his home and his rightfn
heritage, whose towers cleaned be-
fore. his as he climbed the foothills.
And so in the soul OF every man
God has witness, an angel. speak
ing OF his sonship and his consequent
inheritance. He hears the echo OF
forgotten voices. and oft in the still
ness there are divine melodies, that
seem to come through the riffs of
the sky. He hears the home-songs.
Something stirs strange hopes within
him. AT last the soul opens wide the
arms to receive death as Gods bright.
est angel. Sorrow turns to singing.
The foreign evile over, death is re-
lease and home-gofng.
Gods ways are dark, but soon or
late
they touch the shining hills of day.
You are nearer heaven for the
graves yon have dug Losses brave
ty borne are flashing treasures Of the
soul. Death is the key to a casket
of jewels. The grave is vestibule
to a house not made with hands
Christ the angel of the covenant.
still leads on, and He who never.
misses the gate of heaven will con-
duct to those happy hills that are
bright with Gods eternal noon.