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Otago Witness, Issue 3593, 23 January 1923, Page 57

The losses of loyalty are more profitable than the gains of guile. frayer is the secret of spiritual peace as well as spiritual progress. Happiness is to-morrow’s unfulfilled promise, but it is to-day s best gift. You cannot expect bright outlook if the thoughts you harbour are dark. This moment is the easiest time to do that disagreeable duty that is facing you. Usually we find that the other side of an obstacle is labelled “Opportunity.” We are singularly prone to mistake a train of thought for a load of useful ireight. The true Christian works as if he were responsioie for the righteousness of the entire world. Look in upon yourself occasionally to see what manner of man you are, but do not spend the day there. Steady sailing in a light breeze often makes for surer progress than does fitful tacking before a gale. A TRUE STORY. Rev. Dr Torrv, when in Dunedin some years ago, re.ated the following true story “1 am going to tell you a story — and thank God it is true —ot our home land. A poor woman in one of our towns, who had to work for her living, for she was a widow—she took in washing, l think —had a boy, and he was a bright boy, and he proved a bright man. X think some ot you have heard him. She sent her boy to school. He went through the schools, did well, came out at the very top of his class, and was valedictorian of his class, the highest position, and took a gold medal for special excellence in study. The day he was to graduate he said to his mother -. “You know, I graduate to-day, Mother.” She said, “Xes, 1 know.’’ “Well, get ready,” he said, “it is time to get olt to the church” —w’here the graduating exercises were to be held.“Oh, niy boy, 1 cannot go up there, ’ she said ; “I haven’t anything fit to wear, n ay, all the finest people in the town will be there. You would be ashamed of me if 1 went.” “Ashamed of you, mother ? he said : ‘‘never ! 1 owe an J have m toe world to you. What is more, mother, 1 cannot graduate unless you do go; and I w on’t!” And he helped his mother to get ready, and pinned the old laded shawl loimtl her, and made it look as good as possible, and put on her plain old bonnet, and took her on liis arm, and walked down the main street with the plain old mother on his arm to tiie church. When they got there he took her up the centre aisle, and sat her among the finest people in town. When the time came, he went no to deliver his valedictory address and to receive the gold medal amid the applause of his companions; and when he had received it he walked straight down to where - his mother sat, :and pinned it rn her old faded shawl, and said, “Mother, that, belongs to you : you earned it.” GOD’S-ACRE. 1 like that ancient Saxon phrase, which calls The burial giound God’s-Acre! It is just; It consecrates each grave within its walls, And breathes a ber.ison o’er the sleeping •'dust. God’s-Acre! Yes, that blessed name imparts Comfort to those who in the grave have sown The seed, that they had garnered in their ■ hearts, TKcir bread ot life, alas! no more their ' own. Into its furrows shall we all be cast. In the sure faith that we shall rise again At the gieat harvest, when the archangel’s blast Shall winnow, like a fan, the- chaff and - grain. Then shall the good stand in immortal bloom, In tlie fair gardens of that second birth; Amt.eaeh bright blossom mingle its perfume With that of flowers, which never bloomed on earth. With tliy rude ploughshare, Death, turn up - the sod, And spread the furrow for the seed we sow; This is the field and Acre of our God, This is the place where human harvests grow.