Dodgeville chronicle. [volume] (Dodgeville, Wis.) 1862-current, 1875-08-13
A Hundred Years Hence!

4
rise in the morning, we go to bed at night,
we toll and toll, and sleep and sleep, and
then we die. The present alone is ours,
| the past dream, the future all unfathoma-
| ble On the brink of time stands man,
eating his way by moments, plodding un-
conscious of the waste within, the wear and
tear of that exquisite machine, the human
body. Proud of the intellectual and phys
ical achievements of the past, glorying in
the conscious sense of strength in the pres
ent, boastful of the finite power which
God has given him, yet oft forgetful of
the source from whence it sprung, man
lives his little span-grabbing, delving,
spinning, toiling, like the ant-a larger
ant, less wise withal, and grateful As he
stands in his matchless symmetry and
| strength, peering through the Godlike
light of reason into the unfathomable
abyss OF space, putting girdle round
about the earth, and digging deep into
Its bowels, thinking, dreaming, praying,
curslng, he knows not what a moment
may bring forth, or when in the decree
OF an all wise Providence his little lamp
shall cease to shine on earth.
Man for the future can butreason from the
past. In hundred years he has seen or
heard of many changes on this wondrous
globe he calls his home. Great souls have
come and gone, great souls will come
again; intellect has quickened the means
OF locomotion, lessened the Adamite curse
of toll; intellect will do so STILL so he
reasons, and so his logic rests upon the
past. One hundred years ago the world
travelled in luhlbering coaches, sailed the
seas in slow-going ships; to-day the IRON
horse goes tearing through the land and
steamers bridge the widest oceans Months
have changed to weeks and weeks to
hours. One hundred years ago the trav-
eler between New York and the Illinois
wilds would have made up his mind to a
three-weeks' trip, in numbering wagons,
sleepy.ferries and uncomfortable stages.
In the year of grace 1875, two days and
one night passed in ease and comfort see
him safe at his journeys end. When
His Majesty's troops sailed from the shores
OF England to give these Colonists les
son, they were Fortunate if three-weeks'
tossing on the broad Atlantic brought
them within sight of Newfoundland. To
day an eight-day passage is a matter of
course. Without multiplying illustra-
tons, it is not in the least degree unnatu-
raj that the man of the hour, peering into
the mists of dim futurity, should see, in
its dark and unfathomable depths, still
greater strides toward that goal which his
imagination pictures as the ultima thule
of inventive perfection. Electricity has
added its spark to creative Immortality.
What may not electricity bring forth :?
What motors fill the womb of pregnant
time? Do we behold in the fragile air
ship of to-day the engine that is to watt
our pOsterity, with unthOught-of speed,
from continent to continent? Are the
worlds to draw together ere the end, and
men to stride the air and guide their barks
through space? Shall tunnels bridge the
seas and steam go down before a higher
force? Who knows what is to be? AL
drous motors the busy brains of men are
at work. ACROSS the ocean in fifty
hours" so reads the latest tale-a life-beat
raised by gas and sailed by steam
A hundred years hence! Who that is
born to-day shall live to see it, and what, if
he does live, shall he sea- daily balloon to
London, an afternoon trip to Florida? Will
the docks now echoing to the hiss of steam
be filled by strange, unearthly shapes, with
wings and fans, and gaudy bags of gas !?
er, pass swiftly meath the sea, and parcels
dart like lightning round the world?
Stranger things than these have happened
in hundred years, and some may live to
see still greater wonders. And yet we
cannot change the face of nature. Man is
the same to-day he was a hundred years
ago; more restless, nervous and ambitious
butunchanged in feeling, passion thought
He was made in the image and likeness of
his Maker, and however he may darken
and Obliterate that image so shall he re-
main, and thes shall change not, neither
the dry land, at least to outward and un-
lettered sense, and the heavens shall tell
the glory of God until the inevitable hour
when all created things shall pass away
like a scroll, and the soul of man have
learned the truth of everlasting veal or
woe in the never-ending mansions of
eternity.-InterO Ocean.