The Morristown gazette. [volume] (Morristown, Tenn.) 1867-1920, 1880-01-14
PERSONAL.
PASSING THOUGHTS.

To the Editor of The Morristown Gazette:
How uncertain is human life Il! We
busy ourselves with the vain things OF
this life, which we are daily and hourly
coming in contact with; we strive for
fame, riches and every thing else that
will stand the highest and shine the
brightest in the eyes of man or in the
estimation of the public generally. Each
and every one of us are trying to do
| something little better than the other
all making steps toward that great
and wonderful ladder-so called popu-
larity-and now, if we can only reach
| the topmost round that is all we care for.
The greatest object of our life we have
! gained. Many years have sped by and
gone, the plough of time is fast making
| it's burrows upon our brow; our locks are
becoming frosted by many winters, and
! leaves us IN pursuit of that amazing
| prize-fame Pause right here, gentle
reader, and reflect. Do we know that
there is but one beat of the heart and
but one breath of air betWiXt this world
and the next? Then, how uncertain is
human life. Let US draw closer to each
other, in this discourse. Remember a
blow at your home is a blow at mine,
and one throughout the land. We are
united together by many ties, and death
with his icy fingers is continually break
ing them-not only in the distant lands,
but right here in our midst. Let US
cross over the well-wOrn thresholds of
our dear homes, and call the roll of 1879,
and then compare it with the roll of
1880. We will find some loved ones who
have ceased to answer. Their ears are
deaf to our cries; we haYe been lucky
enough to step from the rugged wave of
the past year, into this one, but others
have failed. They were with us for awhile
enjoying the pleasures of this life and
sharing troubles and trials, but now
they are dead So, to-day, you may be
looking upon my corpse; and tomorrow,
some one else may be looking upon
yours. Oh, how sad is the reflection
Those who have been our idols-thOse
whom we have Worshipped are now
mouldering in their gravesl Hands that
we have so often shaken are now food for
the grave worm Smiles that have
lifted the tolls and cares from our path
way and lit the lamp of bright future
and happiness-they have banished
Dust and stone has hid them from our
sight. Lips that have so often pierced
our hearts with words of kindness we
hear no more. Then let Us look TO yOn
Durlal place, anu survey Inc sFdft VI INC
holy name-woman We associate
every soft, tender and delicate affection.
We think of her as the young and bash
full virgin, with eyes sparkling, and with
cheeks crimsoned with each impassioned |
feeling of the heart, as the chaste and
Virtuous matrop tried by the follies of |
the world, and preparing for the gave |
into which she must soon descend. Oh |
there is something in contemplating the |
character of a woman that raises the /
soul far above the level of society. She |
is formed 10 adorn and humanize man
kind; to soOthe bic cares and strew his
path with flowers in A04rs Of distress.
She is the rock on which he leans for
support, and when fate calls him from
existence, her tears bedew his grave.
IN conclusion, we expect to pass through
his world but once, when the glis-
ening rays of to-day's SUN have faded in
he west, and night with its dark wings
If silent repose hoVeFs oyer Us, should
he chariot of death upon its moqFning
wheels of grief and sorrow drawn by the
teed of eternity pass by our bedside will
re be ready. r. NJ. r.