True American. [volume] (Steubenville [Ohio]) 1855-1861, 1855-01-04
On the Departure of the Year.
TENT.

TENT.
Gone, gone forever Like a rushing wave,
Another year has burst upon the shore
OF earthly being-and its last low tones, E
Wandering in broken accents on the air,
Are dying to an echo PRENTICE.
Ny HdrcrS:-The occasion on which |
now hold forth is more than ordinarily
shaded with the deep umber of solemnity.
1t is an occasion calculated to call forth
thoughts dressed in the sober guise of pen
siveness, and reflections appareled in the
robe of solemnity, ornamented with the
gold and silver trimmings of hope. Let
there be silence for another year has
been entombcd in the dark sepulchrc Of the
past-anothcr quill has been plucked from
the feet pinions of Timc-and Eternity
has received another dose of physic, by
gulping into its Insulated nav the con-
taminated carcass of 1914 DON'T ask
why you should mourn over the grave Of
the past year, or joy over the cradle of
the infant H. You should mourn for the
dead year, one and all. The young should
mourn, because, by its demise, another
flower has faded in the boquet of their
youthful delights, and another leaf has
been turned over in the only volume Of TO-
nance which the vast library of life affords;
and the aged should mourn because anoth-
er foothold has given away on the sand
bank of existence, leaving them to pull
themselves up by the brittle weeds that
grow upon the margin of their own graves
You should rejoice, my friendS--becauSc,
through the aid Of Tcmpe's swollen food,
the ten thousand ills that have chokcd up
your rivulets of happiness, have bcenswcpt
into the sea of oblivion, there to lie and
rot unhcedod, like so many potato skins at
the latter end of a gutter. What is sin
Gle year? mcthinks I hear you ask. It
is of more Importance than you seem to
approhend. In its dying struggles it hits
us a kick in our alvine regions, and sends
us another notch nearer to our everlasting
homes; it deepcns the furrows that Time
has gently merked out upon the comely
features of manhood, and crops white hairs
from tue barren poll of age. Since last
addressed you, my friends, the tip end Of
my conspicuous nose has been showed two
inches farther into the portal Of the tomb,
and another wrinkle has been added to my
corrugated Irow and so it is with the
whole of YOU, Every annual circling Of
the sun by the earth you inhabit, windsup
a fltieth or a seventeen, as the case might
be, Of the cord Of existence; and you will
all kick the axle sooner than you expect,
and, | fear, long ere You are prepared for
the agonizins squeeze.
My dear hearers--anothar year has gone
CONC, forever like a rushing wave it
has burst upon the shore of earthly being,
and fed back into the eternal ocean Of
nothingncss from whence it sprang The
last echoes Of its expiring moans now
family echo upon the wintry air; and Ma
turo dons her mantle of mourning, while
frozen tcar-drops roll down her distorted
phiz. Yes, the old year lies now buried
in the charnel-yard Of hy-gono AGES; but
the lovely damsel Spring will soon strew
its grave with the budding blossoms Of
promise, and the lhorns Of future sorrow
and woe shall be covered by the sweetest
Of roses. But dear hearers, beware oil
} this witching dclusion. If You grab toe
hastily at the flowers Of anticipation, you
may stand a chance of getting your digits
scratched by the obtrnling briars Of reality
The purest objects Of this world are
merely gilded with beauty, Which vonishe:
with the first eager cmb7acc-aycn as the
artificial bloom which too many of oul
young ladies wear, is kissed away with tht
first rapturous smack of the lover. Tht
little space which is allotted to you all, be
tween this and your final jumping-of
place, can easily be surveyed by the watch
full eye of prudence and if you don
steer straight over mountain, meadow, bo;
and marsh, you will be likely to enter upol
the Threshold Of hereafter, with tori
trowscrs and wcathcr-beaten souls.
This, my friends, is time for solemn
reflection. Look back to the dawn Of til
burst up year, and see what changes, sine
f then, have taken place in the social world
Behold how the friends of your yout
have been stolen away-how many hav
: resigned lfe's cphcmcral brcath--ho,
many have shed their last tear of detection
=. and closed their dim peppers in the thic
darkness of death IT'S but few shol
: months since the late year rose as brigh
: as tin teapot on the happy, the carelcs
! and the blythe; but where arc they now
e They have ended life's pilgrimage ere
hos hardly commnnced. and are now sounC