"The sweetest of all God's singers is the Angel Israfel."

Let none call that Angel "Death" who summons spirits from their forms of clay. In all the Angelic vocabulary there is no such word as "Death."

The element or principle of "change," "disintegration" (of organisms) is but a "form of life"; even the materialistic philosophy of a portion of the physical scientists finds no "death" in the change, decay and transmutation of material things.

Ever beside the impalpable and invisible gateway of human existence is the Angel of the "sweetest voice," winning spirits to the next step of life, summoning souls to the angelic realm.

Behind and above the Shadow of Mortal Fear, beyond the outward pain, suffering, sorrow, those ministrants of Earthly experience, those teachers of patience, fortitude, sympathy, the sweet-voiced Angel ever abides. Even from the couch of suffering the Angel who clothes the form with white silence, releasing the spirit, clasps it in the enfolding "voice" of the awakening.

Have you wept, as a child, when the blossoms of the spring-time faded, when the flowers of field and woodland were ravished by the too ardent kisses of the sun, or blown away by the breath of Zephyrus? Or when the garden walks were strewn with leaves and the trees and shrubs were brown and bare? Ah, but the orchards are full of the crimson and golden fruit; and on the vines hang the purple clusters - and there is joy in the "Harvest Home."

And when there is low moaning and loud wailing of storms in the autumn, and winter clothes the earth with whiteness, like a bride, or like unto the Great White Mother, have you sighed for all the faded forms of past bloom and leafage? Listen, listen, bend low and hear: In the heart of the tree is the lullaby, in the rootlets and germs beneath the frozen ground is the "slumber song" of the Mother - and lo, before there is any sign of awakening, if you bend, if you listen, you can hear, crooning above the violets until there is a stir, a sign; above the daffodils until they awaken; baby buds and blossoms appear, they were only "sleeping": Life, Life, Life is everywhere!

Have you stood beside the empty nest mourning because the tiny shells were broken and the nestlings not there? Ah, listen 1 listen! Above your head - the song! the song!

Have you gazed with speechless grief on the still white face that no longer responded to your look of love; eyes closed and sightless, lips silent and cold; the great awful pain of separation from the Best Beloved gnawing at your heart? Will it break? Bend low! be still! look within! look above! listen, listen with the Spirit: lot the voice of Israfel! weep and listen, and praise; for the Awakener hath been there.

Above the loud roar of the waters, above the storm-washed ship, above the voices of anguish and cries for help, above the hymn and prayer of such as seek Divine Aid, Israfel and his Angel bend! Lo! the Rescuers of Souls are there!

Above the maddening thunders and crash of arms; above the patriot's prayer, the hero's cry of "Courage"! Above all that the horrors of human combat can bring, hearken! Tis the sound of the hosts from the Love-Guarded battlements above! Israfel and his trumpeters, his singers, his Redeemers.

Beyond all the horrors of War, Pestilence, Famine - the vultures that ever attend the Shadow of human Selfishness and Greed, behold! behold! listen and behold! not one of the "least of these" is forgotten or neglected; they are there - the Angels! Israfel and his mighty ones; his Divine Helpers!

There can be no Greater, Higher or More Divine Ministration than the Awakener brings, for this is the meaning of all life:

Birth, Love, Added Birth, and PERFECT LOVE.

Aeons pass; suns rise and flame, with their attendant worlds, then fade; but the Awakener is there forever I "The sweetest of all God's Singers."