Clarksville weekly chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 1873-1890, 1875-08-07
For the CHaosrcrr.
WILLIS WATERS.
CHAPTER xxvI.


CHAPTER XXvI.
'.scepterless, free, uncircumscribed.
unclassed, tribeless, nationless,
Exempt from awe, worship. decree; thu
Over himself"
Mystery, mystery, mystery all ii
mystery in this bewildering life. Il
has thrown over tie arch of the future
a pail sable and cruel and has envel.
oped Deity in its impenetrable mist
We have sketch book of eternity
that affords us some hints that we are
due another life, yet even from its un-
satisfactory pages we are held and
Knocked by mystery. For instance,
there is promise of bliss ''it we do NOT
weary in we'll doing !" but what prooa
have we, after years Of toll and devo-
ton, that itwiIlever be attained2 The
world is full Of marble sleepers and
we must some day join the silent band.
The Metropolis is the resting place Of
rich and poor. saint and sinner, and in
short time it must be our home. The
day of miracles is past and super
natural events are fables of antiquity.
We know that zoe must die. We are
waited into existence by breath of
destiny, we are wind-tossedand strick-
en- by the gale of fate. but We are hush
ed in death by an inevitable decree.
We may accomplish much during our
brief stay by exercising our divine
gifts of speech and reason, and man
has by perseverance and toll reached
results grand and God-like. 1t is at
mans mandate that science throws
across ourrushing streams her triumph
ant arches, yokes together with CYCLIC
pean architecture the everlasting hills.
and leads over their giddy SUBMITS
the busy train of commerce. But with
the advance of knowledge and science
mystery does not diminish. 1t is a
shadow in which We are doomed to
linger in the ceaseless revolutions of the
sun, the wheeling cycle of endless
years, never pausing, neither termin-
ating. There is something strange in
the glow of the cheek, the glitter of
the eye, and the wondrous meehan-
ism of the human body, which is said
to be casket Of clay for the jewel of
the soul, and if it be true that the
spirit "continueth forever" there is
something supremely mysterious in the
Creator of such. It is whispered there
will come time when doubt shall be
banished, and the soul thirsting for
divine knowledge shall at last be
taught the secrets. And how pray? !?
All! death must touch with chilling
wand the sable draperies of futurity to
reveal the shadowy images of things to
come. The stamp of dissolution must
be upon us and dread of the tomb.
Sorceries, witchcraft and cunning eyre
giously fail to paint one shadow of
eternity. Imagination, dreams and
speculation are all infinitely impotent.
It'is wanton mistress that wooes men
to her shrine. She first elates them
with success, and then sleeps them
deeper and deeper in the depths of
mystery. She toys with philosophy,
ana iauses aau sua at secrets .su ons Iii III the
house of oblivion. and it amuses
!. s. =. Yueen-ship to. watch our learned
Of earth vainly searching for the key.
The priceless wreath of metaphysics is
her most costly toy. and she wantons
with it at her will. There is wonder
full chaos stretching out between the
present and the dim ito come," an
universe of darkness across which an
angel could never wing its fiight-dark-
ness which hovers like veil over the
seas of unreality and spans immensity
with magnificent gloom. 1t is aregion
Of shadows where unwise mortals
would hang the star of revelation and
lift the dim drapery of the mysterious.
They would bridge the depths with an
arch of light and thereby shadow their
lives by forbidden knowledge, as
beautiful woman did in the palmy days
Of the beginning. They reck not the
Inconsistency; they do not weigh the
Ifit be true that Eek
pectancy" is the bijou of life, and that
realization falls limp and spiritless in
comparison, why not let the future
hold unmolested its coveted secrets ?
Why not build on the tame shore of
Hfe's castle, without the
to place it on the inaccessible
cliffs of the visionary? Why strive to
fit on the wings of fancy and science
to the shadowY chambers of the un-
assumed? 1t is held by some that the
expectation Of a. cherished hope is
sweetest pleasure, whilst the realiza-
ton of such is only grim mockery.
I refute the argument. Expectancyis
to the realization as the suns shadow
is to the light, the roses perfume is to
the honey extncted. a feeting moment
to sunny, gildd years, and barren re-
gret to replete fulfllment. One mo-
Ment of genuine joy is worth ten thou
sand years of hopeful waiting. One
star plucked fiom queen Fate's radiant
banner affordsmore pleasure than ages
of longing for is glitter. Is the hope
of Heaven 10 ield us more bliss than
the inheritane, of its divine splendor?
Will the songsof holy rapture die on
our lips echoles, because the melody
of expectancywas fraught with more
sweet? Bah what thought. The
fallacy of the argument is too beauti-
fully unveiledfor acceptance.
swell, woner of wonders. Willis
Waters is to e baptized tonight. A
sudden attackof solemnity. l presume.
Verify the al must be tainted with
the miasma o. have affected Miss