The mourners and those who commemorate the anniversary of the death of some dear departed, rise now and recite the _Kaddish_, the "Mourner's Prayer," by which they utter even in their painful trials, their pious submission to God's will and to His superior wisdom. How sublime this mourner's service! How consoling to those who mourn and weep, to those who have mourned and wept, and how instructive to those who are destined to mourn and weep! It is as fraught with goodly lessons for those whom the hand of death has spared as for those who have been afflicted. It is more potent to move the heart than are the most fervent prayers, more eloquent than the most stirring discourses. Would you have your family life the sweetest, the purest, the most blessed, while it lasts, then go to the synagogue, hear the Mourner's _Kaddish_, and think how that heart must feel that has seen one of its links, neglected while living, go down into the lonely grave, there, where all the acts of charity and kindness, where the choicest of flowers and most expensive of monuments can cheer the silent sleeper no more. Would you have help to overcome jealousy and hatred, contempt and evil thoughts and evil deeds, go to the synagogue, hear the solemn "Kaddish," learn from it that there is a time when regret and repentance come too late to be heard, a time when sobbing and wailing can not pierce the clods. Would you moderate your ambitions and check your appetites, would you see the frailty of the mortal, would you keep your heartstrings vibrating in sympathy with suffering humanity, would you have a clear conception of the ends and aims of life, would you keep your conscience pure, then go to the synagogue, see the mourners rise, and from their sighs and tears learn the lesson that for the proud and the humble, the high and the low, the learned and the ignorant, the rich and the poor, the tyrant and the slave, the king and the servant there is but one common goal, death equalizes them all, his scythe knows no caste, no creed, no name, no fame, no title and no rank. But we have strayed from the living to the dead, from the joyous to the sorrowful. Let us return to the service. Again the congregation rises and solemnly they read the "Olenu," the concluding prayer, in which they express their fervent hope to behold soon the splendor of God's majesty, such as will call unbelief to vanish from the earth, will banish wickedness forever, will lead all mortals to recognize and worship the One and Only God, and bring on that glorious day when all men will live together in unity and brotherly peace, and the spirit of enlightenment will reign supreme over all. Another joyous Sabbath hymn and the services are concluded.