The voice of freedom. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1839-1848, 1843-10-12
NJ | S & Il l. l. A N Y .

OR, TIE FIRST AND LAST MINUTE.
The following graphic and thought-in-
spl'lng picture of human life was pub
lished about a dozen years ago in the
New England Galaxy. We know not
the author. - The Rocer.
MINUTES PASS. The anxious husband
PAGES slowly across his study. He is q
fnher-a man-child is born unto him. -
Minutes Pass the child has been bless
ed by parent, whom cannot recognize,
and passed to that bosom to which in.
slnct alone guides it for sustenancc the
young wife too has family answered to a
husbands question and felt his warm kiss
on her forehead.
IloURs PASS. -Che low meanings from
the closely covered cradle, tell Of the
first wants Of its infant occupant. The
quiet tread Of the nurse speaks of suffer-
ing around her; while her glad counten-
ance says that the very suffering which
she is trying to alleviate, Is source of
joy; and the nameless articles, which
from time to time she arranges on the
hearth, tell of new claimant for the
courtesies and attentions Of those who
have progressed further on the pathway
Of existence.
DAYS PASS. Visitors are thronging
the chamber, and the mother, is receiv-
ing their congratulations, and listening
proudly to their praises Of the little treas
ure, which lies asleep in its rocking bed
at her feet, The scene shifts, aud the
father is there with her alone, as the
twilight deepens about them, while they
are planning the future destiny of their
child.
WEEKS pAss.--The eyes Of the young
mother ale sparkling with health, aud the
rose blooms again on her cheek, and the
cares of pleasure and home engage her
attention, and the father is once more
minglng with the world; yet they find
many opportunities each day to visit the
young inheritor of life; to watch over
his dreamIcss slumber-to trace each
others looks in his countenance, and to
ponder upon the felicity, Of which he is
the bearer to them.
MONTHS PASS. The cradle is desert
ed. But the chamber floor is s,rewed
with playihings, and there is a little one
lettering among them whose half lisped
words, and hearty laugh, and sunny
countenance tell you, that the entrance
into life is over pathway of flowers -
The cradle is empty, but the last prayer
of the parent is uttered over the small
crib, which stands by their own bedside,
and their lniesI attention is given to the
peaceful breathings Of its occupant.
YEARsPAss.-ChiIdhood has strength
ened into boyhood and gamjoIIed along
into manhood. Old connexions a"e bro
ken -parents are sleeping ia their graves
new intimacies are formcd-a new
home is about him, new cares distract.
He is abroad, struggling amid the bnsi-
ness of life, or resting from it with those
whom he has chosen from his own gen
elation. Time is beginning TO wrinkle
his forehead, and thought has robbed his
locks of their gaiety, and study has DIM
med his eyes. Those who began life,
after he had grown up, are fast crowding
him out of it, and there are manv claim
ants upon his industry and love for pro-
lection and support.
YEARS PASS. His own children have
become men, and are quitting him, as he
also quilted the home Of his fathers
His steps have lost their elasticity his