Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1926-12-06
Augusta Elks Honor
Memory of Departed
Brothers at Service

note Of terror or despair, but of calm
philosophy and solace. And so It
sweeps on to its majestic conclusion:
so live, that when thy summons
comes to join
The innnumerable caravan, that moves
10 mat mysterious realm, where each
shall take
His chamber in the silent halls of
death,
Thou go not like the quarry-slave at
night,
scourged to his dungeon, but, sus-
tanned and soothed
by an unfaltering trust, approach thy
grave,
Like one who wraps the drapery of
About him, and lies down to pleasant
Dreams
What of our departed brother Elks?
Upon the memorial tablet in our lodge
room their names aPe suitably in
scribed. With the forget-me-not, the
amaranth and the clinging ivy, en-
blematic of charity, immortality and
brotherly love, We have dedicated our
altar to their memory. Their faults
we have written upon the sand, their
virtues upon the tablets of love and
memory Such is the motto of the
Elks.
49, al VI ShCAli NtiG SISdI as luS
world commonly measures greatness.
No pomp or pageartry marked their
| obsequies. They sleep in no bedecked
| or frescoed chamber. They rest in no
golded or marble sarcophagus. No
crowding, jostling, curious throngs
| disturb their deep repose. No! Not all
of them were great as most men meas
ure greatness. yet in the highest, fin
Pest, truest sense, most of them were
| great indeed. For birth, and rank,
and wealth and power are temporal
and transient, and stop this side the
grave. Stripped of all tinsel and
| trappings the soul of man alone is all
that is or can be great.
place in separate scales the great
est souls of all the kings and poten-
tates, and we shall balance them, one
by one, with the souls OF brother
Elks whose going forth and coming
| in was heralded by no bare, of
| trumpets, but who trod with manly
step the paths of rectitude and duty.
They were the upright citizens, the
loving husbands and fathers, the I'M
Outstanding and loyal friends and
brothers. No impious hands shall
desecrate their graves. On this day
of reverent memories we seem, to
hear again those words our Saviour
spoke to his disciples in the Garden
of Gethsemane: t'Sleep on, and now,
.. and take your rest!" Our brothers
| sleep beneath the shadows of the
clouds, careless alike of sunshine or
| of storm, each in his windowless
palace of rest" They sleep IN
America, and tell me, friends and
| brothers, can any man have couch
| more magnificent"
What message would these, our
brothers, send to us today? Would
they not counsel us to make the Key
| note of this hour not one of sadness,
but of uplift? Would they not have
| it's thought, it's song, it's spoken word,
| all spur us to renewed endeavor?
Would they not prize our high re-
| solve, born on the altar of tender
memories, to make of life q finer,
cleaner, lovelier thing?
Our brothers had professed belief
in God. We think of them today as
having been Sustained and soothed
! by an unfaltering trust" Through all
the exercises of this golden hour
there runs the strain Of Faith, Hope,
! Love, like the recurring theme of
7 some great masterpiece on a cathe-
! dral organ. And these words,
| spoken of a martyred president, but
| mere appIed TO each departed
| brother. shall be the last sweet
chord. trembling away into sill
ence:"
Let us think that his dying eyes
read q mystic meaning which only
| the rapt and parting soul may know.
| Let us believe that in the silence of
! the receding world he heard the great
waves breaking on a farther shore,
and felt already upon his wasted
! brow the breath of the eternal morn
} ing"