DR. FRANK CRANE'S DAILY EDITORIAL

Sun (Auckland), Volume 1, Issue 32, 30 April 1927, Page 16

DR. FRANK CRANE'S DAILY EDITORIAL

THE END ♦ (Copyright , 1921.) has an end, but the sum of things goes on. As far as nature is concerned, t here is no individual immortality, but there is immortality of the race or species. One generation breeds another, and so on. No generation lasts. To be satisfied everything must have a close. We must have a climax in music. In a story we mu st have a beginning, and difficulties, and a satisfactory ending. Every speech must have a satisfying peroration. The most eternal things ‘hat I know of, that is, things that seem to express eternity, are not the mountains nor the stars, out strangely enough the rivers, which are continually changing. They are eternal because they are constantly refreshed. It is the same Arno that flows through Florence which was there in the days of Dante; Julius Caesar saw the same Tiber we see now; Joan of Arc looked upon the same Seine! and King Alfred saw the same Thames we note to-day. So the most eternal things are not the things that stand forever, but those which are continually refresh ed. From this doctrine of the end of things a wise man takes his comfort. He learns moderation in joy and fortitude in pain. What he says to himself in days of sorrow is the same thing that he says to himself in days of joy to keep himself sober: “This, too, shall pass.” There are moments when we take great comfort in the fact that everything some time shall cease. As Swinburne says: From too much love of living, From hope and pain set free. We thank with brief thanksgiving Whatever gods may be. That no life lives forever, That dead men rise up never. That even the weariest river Winds somewhere safe to sea. I may not be quite exact, for I quote from memory, but the idea is there. We can endure every lot because we have to stand it only a day at a time. Each life is broken up for us by periods of repose. Every day is a little life and typical of that larger day of life —that youth, manhood and age, which we all .endure. There must be an instinct o. death as there is an instinct of sleep, and the sage lies down calmly to die as the tired man goes to his bed. It is the end, and while our brief day may not have been successful according to various standards, at least it comes to its close in the hope of another awakening and a new trial. Shall there be another awakening to the sleep of death? If a man die, shall he live again?