Smyrna times., 1873-01-01
Growing Old.

The departure of youth manifests itself as
Enthusiastically in the habitudes OF the mind as in
the gray hair and failing strength. In youth
We live in the future. We see visions and
dream dreams. We build castles of enchant-
ment, which we furnish and people with vivid
Imagination We picture the fairest bride, the
fastest friends, and the most fowery of path
ways. Alas how does experience disappoint
us, and show us the vanity of human wishes,
as We find one idol after another rudely shat
tered or wisely withheld! Our thoughts are
now mainly in the past, and We are buster with
memories than with hopes. We dream not SO
much Of conquests to be achieved as of the
gOded opportunities now past beyond recall
of the rich treasures of time and talent We have
wasted We think less of our merry compan-
ions, and Of the favorable impressions We make
than we do of the cotempOrarles who are one
alter another passing away from us-less of our
cOnquests in love, now that smiles are scarcer
than kisses were then, than Of some whom we
have sighted in that older time. Have We
ever noticed, in forming one of an assembly OF
people in our youth, how every one seemed
mature compared with ourselves? Now, wher
we look around Us, how greatly do the young
seem to preponderatel When we remember
the rose tint of romance with which the fresh
ness AMI vivdness Of every new impression
tinged our early days, and now find that exist
ence is no longer a dream, but a reality, aDC
that there is so little to look forward to, Is
any wonder that we cast lingering look be
, hind? The character of our life is fixed, an
our occupation and associations promise to be
in the future, very much what they now arc
: Do we notice how much more rapidly each sue
ceeding year seems to pass away? Cannot W
| remember how in our childhood, the term {
year appeared interminable, and we though
] we could compress into that great space almO
r any amount of work and play? But as we g
5 older, how is it that, with all our industr!
. time seems too short for the work we take
J hand?
. We become 50 engrossed that holy days ar
holidays are alike invaded. And, after all
'l done, how much is left unfinished, how mar
= schemes remain untried? 1t is the sOleu
10 thought connected with middle life, " says Il
IS late eloquent f. W. Robertson, that life
e last business is begun in earnest; and it is tn
1T midway between the cradle and the grave
I'd that man begins to marvel that he let t
days Of youth go by so half enjoyed. 1t
r. the pensive autumn teeling-.it is the Sensati
ly of half Sadness-that we experience, when t
d. longest day Of the year is past, and every
1t that follows is shorter, and the light faint
ne and the feebler shadows tell that Nature is ha
It. ening with gigantic footsteps to her win
grave. So does man look back upon his you
OF When the first gray hairs become viSible-wf
IT. the unwelcOme truth fastenS itself upon
OF mind that a man is no longer going up hill,
ur down, and that the sun is always westering-
lis looks back on things behind. When we W
ur children We thought as children. But n
2 $ there lies before us manhood with its earn
he work, and then old age, and then the gra
ire and then home. There is second youth
ed man-better and holier than his frst-if he
look on, and not back. - Exchange.