THE MAJESTY OF SILENCE.

New Zealand Illustrated Magazine, Volume IV, 1 April 1901, Page 559

THE MAJESTY OF SILENCE.

By Alicu H. G. Basten

The wounded body gives vent to its pain iv sound, but the greater the soul's suffering the more it seeks seclusion, and the only indication of its being is manifest in that faithful mirror of the soul — the eye. Iv bereavement we value the firm and silent handclasp more than the loud demonstration of sympathy; in injury the unostentatious helper effects more than the hysterical call for assistance. We have the greater confidence in the individual of quiet demeanour than in the heedless talker; in sudden emergencies the ordinarily retiring man most calmly faces the situation — iv all these instances the silent deed conveys more than noise or speech. Words are adequate only for the expression of the simplest ideas. Great orations owe their force more to the eloquent suggestions of reflective silence than to the actual words employed. A certain sage man is alleged to have observed that we may call none great until he has passed away, and as it is by the review of a man's whole life we can most truly judge of his worth, so in like measure is it necessary that reflection should bring to maturity the thoughts insinuated by a speaker* and gradually unfold the greatness and beauty which at first were manifest only in part.

What is silence ? It ia the influence of Nature inanimate ; it is the expression of the soul immortal, and the language of intense emotion. Silence is not nothingness ; it is expressive always, more nearly allied to sorrow than to gladness, for joy is boisterous, but grief seeks quietness ever.

We wander in the shade of the wooded mountain ; we gaze upon the dear green earth, the dainty ferns, the lofty trees— their simplicity and grandeur are awe-inspiring. The pervading stillness conveys the

impression of a mysterious presence ; the eloquent muteness of Nuture is ovorwhore. The creation around us, how marvellous it is ; the hand of man has not yet boon hud upon it — the hand that can dostroy, but is powerless to restore. Horo, too, as in the world of humanity, thevo is life and death, chauge, dependence and decay; but the life is tranquil, and its passing away, imperceptible — the former knows not turmoil, and the latter holds not agouy. From the highest to the lowest state everything exists in perfect concord. We feol that here is sympathy in all our moods. Horo amidst this transient glory we reflect on death, on eternity, on immortality. Hero only we get those rare vague glimpses into the mystery of things supernatural. Our thoughts partake of the divine, but are mellowed with exquisite sadness ; in tho immensity of our ideas how utterly insignificant appears the noblest of our ambitions. How thorougly we realize that " Full many a gem of purest ray serene The dark unfathomed caves of ocean boar ; Pull many a flower is born to blush unscoii. And waste its sweetness on tho dosort air." in prophetic spirit we listen to the echo of the poet's cry : — " The boast of heraldry, tbe pomp of power, And all that beauty, all that wealth o'or gave, a wait alike the inevitable hour — The paths of glory lead but to the grave." Silence comprehends everything. It brooded in majesty over a world of chaos ; it beheld creation ; it is the one common attribute of the universe ; it i 8 the chiefest survival of the great histories and mighty nations; it is the receptacle of many and strange secrets. When all the monuments of earthly power are gone, the same immutable majesty will live. Uurecognised it is the sentinel of the present, it cloaks the past, and it veils the future. It gives to death its solemnity, it imparts to life its strength, it is the sublimeness of Nature, and the herald of eternity. Above all — it is God's witness — it cannot lie, and it

cannot err; evil and wrong may pass in the eyes of man undetected, bat they go not unobserved. Self-sacrifice and true kindness may not bring gratitude, bat oblivion shall not hide them.