The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1868-06-11
Growing Old.


| Weperused an article in one of our exchanges
| the other day, under the above caption, in
which the writer lamented the inevitable de
cree that sets up the miiestoncs OF the years
! behind, and brings nearer to the silent
lcloSe ofour journey. To us the thought sug-
gested a different train of reflections. We do
not feel that it is a sad thing to grow
| old
AS we go forward and meet the years, each
Is messenger that tells us pleasant story OF
the land to which We have taken up our pill
grimage, and though we may not lay hands
upon them and detain them, yet they Undue
us with happy thoughts and pleasant memoir
les, which clothe each coming messenger in
halo-like garments Of smiles and beauty The
Tourney OF lite is but short, but it is long
enough to teach Us the idleness and littleness
OF things earthly, and that our earthly taber-
nacie Is far TO narrow to hold in thrall that
invisible fire Of immortality that pulses
through our being, or even permit ii to shine
lcfth in that brilliancy that IL SO much longs
for
Life is beautiful, but is is only beautiful as
a panorama that moves on TO the great and
final climax when the curtains of eternity are
drawn, and the marvellous beauty of the uni
verse opens with It's endless Yis1 as of glory up
On our enlarged sight, and the dreams of the
past are paied from view in the blaze of the
nGYer-endlng Present.-Ihe sword and the
toy make up the sum Of cur eXiS ,ence, for the
Odd and young are nearest heaven Prattling
childhood and silver age walk hand in hand,
aud laugh at the gamb0lling lambs, and ma e
pretty speeches TO the bright birds and but
TEXTILES, dor the veil of time is but amIst to the
right and TO the left OF mem, and Love and
innocence stand like cherubs by the cradle
aud the grave.
1t is only when we are among the tropical
clouds of the Middle Passage OF life that we
utterly forget the emblems of innocence and
turn the edge OF the sword against the unwar-
ring arlnieS of Beauty.-And this we do out of
very blindness, Tor when We pass the noun
ttit lSnmmit aud go down the gentle plain TO-
ward the gold and amethyst pillars of the
sunset, we cast the sword behind us and reach
forth Tor the flowers that wave and beckon us
onward.
There is nothing more touching and beauti-
ful than age. The beht form, the feeble, tot
terlng step, the dimmed eye and the childlike
confidence of the aged speak to every heart
not dead to every human emotion, with a
wonderful power and pathos We do not en-
Wy the feelings of that person who can say a
sighting word to or of the aged OF every con-
dltlon in life, and whose strong hand is not
held out to them at every rough corner and
every narrow crossing. Not many days since
we saw a bright and beautiful little girl hay
Ing almost the form and semblance of an an
gel, rudely jostle poor. decrepid old dame
on the sidewalk, and tell her in tones of petu-
lance to keep out of her way. That girls
bright eyes will yet be dim and lusterless, and
ner Ialf round shoulders bent with tbs weight
of years and the burdens of life and if her
life's sunset is cold and obscured with clouds
1t will be because she herself, in the bloom OF
youth, poisoned the chaIce with suicidal
hand OF all TO be loved aud cherished, and
kindly cared for the aged are first deserving,
forthey have borne their share OF burdens, and
their patient old eyes are only waiting to see
the gates lifted mp, when they will be closed
in an ecstacy Of love. We grow old, but only
that we may re-habiitate ourselves with the
garments OF an endless youth.-Cincir natl
Enquirer.