GREAT POSSESSIONS.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXIV, Issue 19720, 20 August 1927, Page 1 (Supplement)

GREAT POSSESSIONS.

GETTING THAT IS NO GAIN.

BY K. M. KNIGHT.

I was thinking over the question of possessions, after having read the description of the Bank of England's new strongroom. It was a most elaborate affair, containing, I was told, guards with fixed bayonets; built fifty feet under the earth, and covered entirely by a casing of ninety-two inches of reinforced concrete ; alarms covered every inch of the vault floor; dozens of electrically fitted doors, built to close unexpectedly behind an intruder; and the innermost shrine of the sacred god hidden behind a twelveton steel door, impervious to dynamite. To reach the bullion one would have to penetrate behind all this. And what then ? Would cue have found the key to life, to joy, to the things we aro all seeking 1 Would one have discovered how to see the world through rosy spectacles, so that the poorest thing, the meanest thing, was beautiful arid capable of radiating happiness? I think not, for the world's treasures aro not locked in strongrooms. They are on the highways, and in the byways. In sunsets and sunrises; in moonlight and flowers wet with dew; in mists and rain; in ripe fruits and sweetsmelling grasses; and often where we would least expect to find them—in the little joys and sorrows of our daily lives. Suppose we could go and play, like children among the sands of the shore in among the gold and silver of the great Bank of England. Suppose we could take our spades and buckets and make castles with moats round them and fine gold bridges. What sort of a compensation would tho game offer us for the loss of the dear things that are so near to the earth and the hearts of us all—the joy of chirping locusts in the springtime, or the first unfolding flowers ? With all the money in the world in our possession we could not wear two hats or two suits of clothes at a time. We could not buy sunshine or health or happiness. Yet right at our back doors are the greatest possessions of all;* the ageless things of eternal beauty, owned by no man but given to each and all. No steel door locks them away from us; no stone vault encloses them; they lie dormant, or very much alive, in the strongrooms of our own hearts. The Open Road. I motored out along the north concrete highway the other day, thinking of these things It was a clear afternoon, bom of a° foggy morning. The fog still hung in the valleys and softened the face of the earth We started from Symonds Street and drove slowly, lest any of the beauty of the grey trees under the bridge should be lost to us. They looked still, and quiet, and dead; still as the blue harbour showing above them in the distance; quiet as the stones at their roots; dead as the humans they sheltered. Yet in all this apparent death there was no thought of loss or sorrow. It was so natural So gentle. We knew, because we could not seo and feel such beauty without knowing, that soon the spring would come and press young buds on the dead branches; that soon there would be a reunion of this beauty with life. And the thought brought a flash I of understanding that was a greater possession than gold or silver. We turned along the busy street. Past the little " Stone Jng," that ugly, quaint, memory-enriched old structure, we motored; still slowly, for the sun was warming the heart of the responsive earth. Everything was glad in the soft radiance of that sunshine. Even the Asylum—grim, terrible, hiding God knows what tragedies-behind its barred windows —was less forbidding in the gentleness of the afternoon light. Passing the iron gates I thought again. " Here of what value is gold and silver ? If it were spilt like rain it could not bring understanding to these people. It could not make them seo this long strip of white road as I see it. And yet," I thought, " perhaps the strange "belief that gold was the open sesame to earthly paradise placed them where they are. How blind we all are abo'ut values! " The Strange Delusion. We went slowly on; nearer the hills that encircled the earth with a warm arm. Homesteads with trim, neat gardens lined the road. Beyond them the land rose, on the left, to the hills; and fell, on the right,, to the sea. Shadows were falling, too; long, soft shadows that were golden cloaks, lined with purple. We drove slowly and yet more slowly, for I wanted to think. I felt "that I was on the verge of some great discovery, and that if I went slowly and quietly it might be made manifest to me. I had 'seen a lot of things since I left town, and thought quite a lot more. Thought of the stupidity of mortals when they build vast treasure-houses to hold bullion: thought of the things they do to possess a share of it. Thought of their dusky deals that pass through the fingers of financiers—deals that may make gold, but that bring no joy. Then I thought of the trees under Grafton Bridge and the promise of resurrected life" they gavfs. Saw, in the distance, the cliffs of the north shore gleaming red; little boats asleep on the long strip of sea; and at the foot of an incredibly steep hill, white tombstones Iving in the cemetery. Here was life, as it is lived; death; and the earth asleep in the thought of peace. I was vary near to that strange business called life. Near to gaining some idea of what it all meant, and what it was all for. Its greatest possessions were not money—that was undoubted. They could not* be bought with money—that was just a;: sure. Nothing that I had seen and loved could have been bought nay, not even by the Bank of England. Yet I was conscious of some strange delusion that was abroad in tlie hearts of man ; some mishappen belief that took the jov out of the sunlight for him; and I knew that it was the thought he held that behind the steel doors and unbreakable locks of great strongrooms dwelt his gods—gods of jingling little bits of gold and silver. "Get Understanding." And so we drove on. Nearer to the hills in the hack round. Once I turned to look back at the city across the long arm of blue water that washed the Te Atatu point, and I saw that the mists' were descending again; coming up from over tho harbour. Countless windows were still burning, a golden sun in each of them, reflecting the light of the great sun. And more than this; seeming to add, from some inner source, a light and warmth and beauty all their own; just as the earth, when the sunlight touched it, seemed to wake and send forth a response that was more than a reflection. And then it came to me—the meaning of it all. The words of Solomon flashed across my mind. 1 Happy ia the man that findeth wisdom, and tho man that getteth understanding. For the merchandise of it is better than the merchandise of silver, and the gain thereof than fine sold. She is more precious than rubies; and all the things thou canst desire are not to he compared unto her. Length of days is in her right hand: and in her left are riches and honour. Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace. She is a tree of life to them that lay hold upon her: and happy is everyone that retaineth her. With all thy getting, get understanding. . . . And I thought, "This, then is the secret. This is the greatest possession—wisdom; that life may be with all her ways of pleasantness, and all her paths of peace. For what wou'vl it profit' a man if he gained the Bank of England's bullion, and with all his getting got not , understanding ? "