The Camden weekly journal. [volume] (Camden, South-Carolina) 1853-1861, 1853-11-01
Reflections of MctIlusclall,
IN HIS YOUTH, IN MIDDLE AGE, AND IN OLD Ao

IN HIS YOUTH, IN MIDDLE AGE, AND IN OLD AGE.
To-day am hundred years old. How
blushing are the feelings of boyhood! MY
senses are acute as the tree with the shrinking
leaf NV blood bounds through the veins as
the river pours through the valley rejoicing in
its strength. Life lies before ME like another
plain of Shinar-vast, unoccupied, invltlng-l
will fill it with achievements and pleasure In
about sixty years it will be time for me to think
about marrying; my kinswoman Zilah wiV
by that time have emerged from girlhood. She
already gives promises, hear, OF comcliness
and discretion twenty years hence will pay
visit to her father, that may-sse how she
grows; meanwhile, | will build a city to re-
ccive her when she becomes my wife.
Nearly three centuries have passed since my
marriage. Can it be 1t seemed but ycster-
day since | sported like young antelope
round my fathers tent, or climbing the dark
ccdars, nestled like bird among the thick
boushs-and now l am man in authority,
as well as in prime of life. | lead out my
trained servants to the fight, and sit head of
the council, beneath the very tree where rs all
infant, my mother laid me to sleep. Jazed,
my Youngest born, q lovely babe of thirty sum
mcrs, is dead, but have four goodly sons re-
naming And my three daughters are as
fair as their mother, when first | met her i'll
the Acacia grove, where now stands one Of my
city watch-towcrs. They are the pride OF the
plain no less for their requirements than for
their beauty. No damscl 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 Mahalccl
the choice of three.
My eight hundrcdi. birth dayl And now
feel the approach Of age and ilrfrmty. My
beard has become white us the blossoms Of the
almond tree. am constrained to Use a staff
when | Journey, the stars look less briyh than
formerly; the flowers smell less odorous;
have laid Zillah in the tomb of the rock Mi
cab is gone to the dwelling of Mahalccl my
sons take my place at the council, and in the
field; all is changed. The long future has be-
come Il short past. The earth is full Of vio-
lcnce; the ancient and the honorable are sink
rg beneath the youth and the vicious The
giants stalk through the length and breadth of
the land, where once dwclt quiet people; all
is changed. The beasts of the field and the
monsters of the deep growl and press OIL us
with unwon,cd fury: traditions, visions aid
thrcatcnings are abroad.
What fearful doom hangs over this fair
world know not it is enough that am leav-
ing it yet another five or eight score years,
and the tale will be complete But have
in very deed, trod this earth nearly IL thousand
years 1t is false am yet boy, have had
drcam-a long, long busy dream of buying
and selling, marrying and giving i'll marriage:
of building and planting icasting and war.
ring; sorrowing and rejoicing; loving and
hating; but it is false to call it life. Go to
it has been vision of the night; La
mech, my son, how long is it since we planted
the garden of oaks besides the river I. Was
it not yesterday" My father. dost thou for
get? The oaks cast broad shadow when
my sister carried me beneath them in her arms
and wovc me cha plets of the leaves"
"Thou art right, my son, and | am DID,
lead me to my mothers tomb, and there leave
me to mediate. What am the better for my
past length and being? Where will be its re-
cords when am gone! They arc yonder--
on all sides Will those massy towers fall I!
Will those golden plants become dcsolate =
Will the children that call me father forget (!
The secrs utter dark sayings on their harps,
and they sing Of the future they say our de-
scendans shall bc 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 paradse--nay, in the blue dis
tancc have seen the dark tops Of its cedars.
have heard the solemn melodies Of Jubal
when he sat on the seashore, and the sound on
the waters mingled with his harping. | have
seen angels the visitants of men, heve seon an
end Of all perfection, what is the future to
mc?'