Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1872-12-18
The Better Part.
BY GAIL HAMILTON.

1t was the picture of a man twenty-five
years old The youthful face was fair,
fresh, guileless as a chid's, yet strong and
sieadiast, with all the promise of manhood.
Looking at the full, Grm outlines, at the
pure and vivid coloring, at the expression
singularly frank, simple, and engaging,
one found himself involuutarily saying
" Strength aud beauty are in his sanctu-
ary."
1t was the face Of young man smitten
down in his opening manhood to sudden
and cruel death. No disease mastered him
no imprudence or ignorance of his own
overlook him, no sacred cause demanded
the sacrifice of his young years. But an
incredible and most guilty carelessness on
the part of another sped the swift bullet
aud in moment, in the twinkling Of an
eye before love could even look upon him,
he was torn away from sweet life. All the
pleasure and the pains lavished on his two
and twenty years-mother's woe and moth.
er's love, the culture Of school and home,
paternal pride and trust, social joys, memo
ries and hopes of freside happiness--all
crushed beneath one bitter blow, all buried
in one untimely grave.
Opposite hargs another picture. 1t i
the face Of man one hundred and two
years old. The features are sharp, the
eyes sunken, aud with sort Of wis,Gal
eager, submissive sadness, as of eyes tha
have looked in vain" The whole face is
ploughed with flrrows, the form is shrunk.
en-, thin and bent 1t is a hundred and two
years old.
And | look back upon the sunny, swee
face opposite, immortal in its youth and
cannot ask which is the better fate ? In
stinctiyely feel through all my shudder.
ing soul that life may be more tragic than
death.
The hearthstone is cold every night and th'
table newly vacant each morning, and the
silence freshly and forever vital with loss
while we long with unspeakable longing anC
ceaseless pain, not for the conclusions o
philosophy, not--ah Heaven be kind =
not for the consultations of religion but
for the very face which we shall never see
for the ringing, merry, happy voice which
through all the long long, dreary, waiting
years shall not any more be heard.
For US who remain the loss is FINAL anC
fatal to be endured, not to be mitigated
But for him how fares it? All for him
even behind death, there is hope. If be
yond the grave is no existence, then nei.
ther affection availeth anything nor dis,
affection. Let US eat and drink, for wha
signifies aught? But if all our faith b,
not vain, if not in this life only have W.
hope in Christ, is it 60 sure that an evi
thing has happened even to him who was
summoned hence in his youth /? Doubles:
the Creator meant that we should desire
life and live many days, that we may sec
good yet not to the dead come silence anC
emptiness, aud the grief Of clay-colC
body for warmth and breath and beauty
All these he left in leaving life, and passed
on to another world to new surround
ings, to plans and purposes, to interests and
enjoyments as full, as keen, as absorbing AZ
those that engrossed him here to friend
ships not more tender, perhaps, but perhapl
more wise to companions and guardians
who shall not suppant the old. but whr
shall satisfy bis ycarnings and forefend thu
pangs of loneliness and heart-hunger, ant
a homesickness Of tho heavens. Out a
life he goes, but into life. The wicked
wanton belief could smite the earth with |
lasting sorrow, but it carried no disaster t.
the skies. The young eye grew dim, an,
the strong arm failed, and the right hand
lost its cunning; but, entering his ntv
world, no power was weakened, no keel
possibility was dulled not a charm wa
lost, not grace marrcd.
"0h! death, where is thy sting? Oh
grave, where is thy victory" Z"
But what is il to live hundred and tw'
yeais2 II is to dwell among the tombs
1t is to be the one living out Of all th'
dead the one as good as dead among th'
living. One after another they disappear
d-the friends Of childhood and Of youth
parents; then the past had vanished
brothers, sisters, the friends of middl
years ; then self sank out Of sight. Las
of all, children died also, and then life wa
gone. Between the active, glowing worl'
aud this sad survivor is great gulf fixed
and who can tell the horror of great dark
ness that falls upon him ? What wan year
stretch before him What waste places Ii
around him! What dim phantoms mocl
him out Of the distant past What twiigh
of the mind wells his future and deaden
his aspiration
"A little child playing among the butter
cups hundred years ago! Wasit he? Yout
and maiden-iair-haired, ruddy, shy, an
eager-where are the eyes that Stunned hi
glance Whose were the eyes that gazed
What was it that stirred him SO deeply !
that long ago ? What fever was in hi
blood, now 30 slow and cold 2 What mad
life then so rosy, that is now SO colorless
Oh vague torment of clouded soul
Weary conflict between feeble memories an
the wraiths of the present In vas
realm Of shadows is there any substance
Through this bell of passivities shines ther
I any CLEAN Of the Heaven Of activity