No; the Preacher is great, but his sorrow is not
the highest. I give my chief reverence to the men who let their sorrow
pass into central fire that blazes into deeds; I revere the men and
women who bear their yoke and utter never a word of complaint; on them
sorrow falls like a pure soft snow that leaves no stain.
Of late, the nations of the world have been thrilled by the deeds of
one humble man who embraced Sorrow and let her claim him for the best
part of his life. I cannot bear to think much of the tragedy of
Damien's life--and I shall not dream of endeavouring to find excuses,
or of declaring that life an essentially happy one. The good Father
chose Grief and clave to her as a bride; he chose the sights and
sounds of grief as his surroundings and he wrought on silently under
his fearful burden of holy sorrow until the release was given. He
spoke no boastful words of contentment save when he thought of the
rest that was coming for him; he gallantly accepted the crudest and
foulest conditions of his dreadful environment, and he uttered no
craving for sympathy, no wish for personal aid. If we think of that
immortal priest's choice, we understand, perhaps for the first time,
what the religion of Sorrow truly means.
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