Daily evening star. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1852-1854, 1853-11-01
REFLECTIONS OF METHUsELAH

IO-uay 1 dlH llunureu years ola. How
blushing are the feelings of boyhood !
My senses are acute as the tree with the
shrinking leaf My blood bounds through
my veins as the river pours through the
valley rejoicing in its strength. Life lies
before me like another plain of Shinar-
vast, unoccupied, inviting-I will fill it
with achievements and pleasure In
about sixty years it will be time for me
to think about marrying; my kinswoman
Zillah will by that time have emerged
from girlhood; she already gives promise,
| hear, of comeliness and discretion
twenty years hence l will pay visit to
her father. that may see how she grows:
meanwhile, l will build a city to receive
her when she becomes my wife.
Nearly three centuries have passed
since my marriage. Can it be. 1t SEEM
ed but yesterday since l sported like a
young antelope round my fathers tent,
or climbing the dark cedars, nestled like
bird among the thick boughs-and now
| am man in authority, as we'll as in
the prime of life. I lead out nv trained
servants to the fight, and SIT head of the
council, beneath the very tree where, as
an infant, my mother laid me to sleep.
Jazed, my youngest born, lovely babe
of thirty summers, is dead, but | have
four goodly sons remaining. And my
three daughters are fair as their mother
when first met her in the Acacia grove,
where now stands one of my city watch
towers. They are the pride Of the plain,
no less for their requirements than their
beauty. No damsel carries the pitcher
from the fountains with the grace of Adah
none can dry the summer fruit like
Azubah-and none can fashion robe of
skins with the skill of Micah. When
their cousin Mahaleel has seen another
half century, he shall take the choice of
the three.
My eight hrndreth birth day! And
now fee! the approach of age and mfr
nifty. My beard has become white as
the blossoms of the almond tree. | am
constrained to use staff when | journey,
the stars look less bright than formerly;
the flowers smell less odorous; | have
laid Zillah in the tomb of the rock. Mil
cab is gone to the dwelling of NIahaleel;
my sons take my place at the council
and in the field; all is changed. The
long future has become a short past.
The earth is full of violence; the ancient
and the honorable are sinking beneath
the youth and the vicious. The giants
stalk through the length and breadth of
the land, where once dwelt quiet people;
all is changed. The beasts of the field
and the monsters of the deep growl and
press On us with unwonted fury; ira
ditions, visions and thrcatenings are
abroad.
What fearful doom hangs over this fair
world | know not it is enough that |
am leaving it; yet another five or eight
score years, and the tale will be complete.
But have 1, in very deed, trod this earth
nearly thousand years? 1t is false, l
am yet boy, | have had dream-a
long, long busy dream of buying and sell
ling, marrying and giving in marriage; !;
of building and planting; feasting and
warning; sorrowing and rejoicing; low
ing and hating; but it is all false to call
it life. Go tot has been a vision of
the night; Lamcch, my son, how long
is it since we planted the garden of oaks
beside the river Was it not yesterday9"
" My father, dost thou forget! Those
oaks cast broad shadow when my sis
ter carried me beneath them in her arms,
and wove me chaplets of the leaves"
Thou art right, my son, and am old.
Lead me to nv mother tomb, and there
leave me to mediate. What am the
better for my past length and being g
Where will be its records when l am
gone! They are yonder-on all sides.
VIII those massy towers fall |? Will
those golden plants become desolatc {?
Will the children that call me father for
get! The scers utter dark sayings on
their harps, and they sing of the future !;
they say our descendants shall be men of
dwindling stature that the years of their
lives shall be contracted to the span of
boyhood, butt have listened to the tales
of raradise-nay, in the blue distance
have seen the dark tops of its cedars. /
have heard the solemn melodies of Jubal
when he sat on the seashole, and the
sound on the waters mingled with his
harping. | have seen angels the visitants
of men-have seen all end of all perfec-
tion-what is the future to me?