The Donaldsonville chief. [volume] (Donaldsonville, La.) 1871-current, 1882-01-07

are those experiences, each OF us vii
confess. when we note the blending lik,
the prismntic colors Of joy, pain, hope
cheerful expectancy, bitterness, sharI
disappointment, love, repulsion and al
the sum Of human emotions which make
up the most unheroic and humble life
Philosophers tell us that there is nt
actual present, strictly speaking, that AZ
soon as we are conscious of thinking a
thought or undergoing the slightest ex
perience, it becomes past thought ant
past experience. Be that as it may il
scientific parlancc and acceptatioll, YET
we do know that there are memories in
finitely more potent and events belong.
ing to the sepnlchled past more really
present with us than what is called ac-
tual and of the present. For there are
sentiments that must live perenniulIy il
our hearts, intense feelings and thoughts
and convictions that took their rise in
some far away fountain Of the distant
past, and have broadened and deepened
into the swell Of u swift-rushing river
What triflcs are sometimes pivots Of our
lives! Think how altered, how totally
different tho whole course of our lives
would have been, if some selected day or
hour we're struck out, fsome apparently
insignificant action or circumstance were
omitted or changed. We often speak of
luck attending this or that fortunate
person, but it docs not seem as if fortui-
tous circumstances really shaped the
life, but a wise and far-reacl,ing designer.
After all, the smallest things make up
the grand total Of a life's JOY and sorrow,
and apparently the most trivial canses
combine to the formation of character,
good or bad, strong OF weak. Carlyle
calls childhood tho still creation days
Of mans whole after life," and iii
taking a backward glance towards the
fields and meadows from which our feet
have long since wandered, we may
tloughtfnlly and solennly trace the
dcep-rooted convictions Of n maturer
wisdom, and conditions that fix aud
govern our lives, to q wliim, q caprice or
passing fancy, d sudden turn, all airy
resolve, an unsettled plan or purpose III
the care-free, irresponsible days when
wo~ chased butterflies aud gathered
buttercups and daisies i'll the green
fresh meadows of childhood. Thus do
circumstances mould character, and
create new and altogether different
spirit within IFS.
You will say Lam not in very merry
mood to-day, and indeed l do feel more
serious than ID. my wont. The bright
sunshine secmsaso mock the death bed q
the old year; it would seem more in
accordance with the solelnnity of the
occasion if nature clanted q requiem
and walled her adien, as at other times
within my recollection.
The future has been appropriately
termed the Isis whose veil no mortal
can raise" nor do caro- to lift it. With
apprehensions and awe await the to-
morrow, with loving reverence and
yearning fondness lay the pail over
the dead yesterdays and reluctantly,
tearfully, sadly consign them to the
sealed sepulchre of the grim and shadowy
past. Surely tits distance lends enchant-
ment to tho view, and the dead and
gone joys and hopes seem SO much
brighter aud more desirable than any
that are living, even as the faces Of dear
ones iu heaven arc glorified by the
light VIC may not yet behold, that we
mourn them far more now than we ever
priced them wl,ilo present with us.
Life often seems to us a dream, and
what we see and touch and handle
more unreal than What is unseen and
intangible, aud today when the old
wear is about to recede forever into tho
everlasting Stiffness" it is with a
peculiarly distinct and vivid feeling
that we retrace our steps down the
vaulted aislcs of time and knock at the
chambers Of memory. But those dark
halls are thronging with shadows only
and here aud there beautiful ghosts peep
out upon US, and alas hideous faces as
we'll taunt US III accusing voices with
wrong-doing and an errorful life. 50, in
this ghost-peopled past all is not perfect
harmony and peace. Memory, though
a blessed comfort and solace, docs often
bring pain, and therefore it were better
for us that we live fairly and earnestly
in the conscious present, neither retrac-
ing our footsteps nor anticipating what
is before lis.
Each year opens, as it were, a new
epoch and inaugurates a new era, and
as we stand at the threshold of 1882, fired
with fresh purposes, filed with higher
aspirations, and pressing onward to the
great unknown, may we take such an
inventory of our blessings and the
manifold mercies vouc]lsafed us as te
.enable us to endure to the end, with
stout heart and hopeful inspiration.
Ring out the old, ring in the new,
The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.
Ring out the grief that saps the mind,
For those that here we see no more;
Ring out the feud of rich and poor,
Ring III redress to all mankind.
Ring out slowly dying cause.
And ancient forms of party strife;