The Union and journal. [volume] (Biddeford, Me.) 1858-1882, 1869-02-12
TIE shortne.s or Time.

Live as long as you may, the first
twenty years Of your life is the Longest
half of it'--this was said by one OF our
modern writer's, and doubt whether any
thing more true was ever said by any
man.
Don't you ilnd-you that have reached
middle life, and you that are approaching
middle life-that time passes much more
quickly than Ii used to pass? Don't you
find when the evening comes and the days
work Is over. that Ii seems only few
moments since the days work began'
You may have been very busy; but when
you return home to your children 1t ap-
pears very short time since you left
them In the morning. or course there
are exceptional seasons, rs when health
Is bad, or when heavy grief presses on
you; but, on the whole, Is IL not now a
subject of constant remark that the days
pass with Incredible rapiditys
Aud don't you remember when the
case was very different? Don't you re
member how long the days used to be-
when you yourself were child, what
crowd Of delightful interests multiplied
and diversified the hours, and how extern
sive the prospect was when you looked
toward the ia tureS The fact Is, you and
your children are living lives Of different
lengths in the same space Of time. The
day is far longer to them than to you,
They feel as If time would never end,
You feel, when you think Of 1t, as II Its
beginning and ending were almost the
same. When they lay their little heads
on TIE pillow, weary with their twelve
hours play, their toys broken, their ex-
element about trifles ut an end, their mer-
ry laugh, their eager quarrels, at length
brought to a pause, those twelve hours
have made, to them, very large period
In their existence. Your toys, TOO, per-
haps, are broken, you too may have been
occupied with trihes, your laughter may
have been thoughtless, your quarrels In
considerable, but your longer, your more
responsible day, has been far shorter than
theirs.
II might not be very difficult TO explain
this. Our sense of the lapse Of time does
not depend entirely, or even chiefly, on
the duration of time itself. When impress
sions are vivid, forcible and fresh, the
time seems long. When the events OF our
lives are monotonous and uniform, II on
" meanwhile we are in diligent occupa-
ton, the time seems short. Any man
may test this for himself by comparing
passages In his own experience. The
first few days spent In new place are
longer than those that succeed them; but
soon the novelty Is past; and then the
stream moves on quietly and rapidly as
before. And no one, on the other side,
needs to be reminded that days of anxiety
and watching, when the mind Is constant
" on the stretch, are frightftilly long. AT
the battle of Waterloo, for instance, can
you not imagine, II you remember the cir
cumstanccs Of that engagement, how dif'
ferent was the length of that summer day
to the great captain, on the one hand, on
whom all the suspense and responsibility
and to some private soldier in the ranks
OH the other, actively occupied, and will
nothing to think of but to be prompt ant
To obey.
How desirable then to make sure OF do
Ing something In the present which reail!
will bear good fruit In the future!
"Ah me.
There Is no rest
Our Time Il heetingi
What rim can curb our heaAslrOng hours!
They post away they pass, We know not h0"'
Our Nov L. gone before We can say Nowi
Time past aud futurs's q Ours-
That hath ss yet M being,
Apd this hath casei TO be;
what IL, Is only ours how short time have we :"