The Caldwell tribune. [volume] (Caldwell, Idaho Territory [Idaho]) 1883-1928, 1884-10-11
NO. 43.

we may, by thoughtful care and wise
precaution,. so alter, repair and
strengthen this foundation as to enable
us to erect thereon a safe and beauti-
full edifice, but it must be entirely the
work of our hands. We cannot build
it by contract.
If the foundation be firm and sound
we can build with confidence and safe
ty. but we should scrupulously assure
ourselves that the materials for the
| building-our actions-are free from
blemish or imperfection, and that they
be skillfully and securely placed in
J position, to the end that the completed
structure may withstand the ravages
of time, the variations of temperature,
the storms of adversity, and forever re-
| main an object of grace and beauty.
There comes to all of us moments of
retrospection wherein we unfold men,
| ory's chronicle and review the records
| of the past, realizing, when too late to
profit by the knowledge, how largely
our antecedent lives have shaped and
influenced for good or for evil our
whole subsequent existence. We see,
drawn up in startling array, the long
train of evil deeds, the vices that had
ensnared us, the errors into which we
had been lured or driven, the follies
that. all too easily, had beguiled us,
the good that we might have done, but
did not, the helping hand that,
so often, we had failed to eX-
tend to those in need, tho promises
broken, the trust betrayed, the reck-
less indulgence of our desires and ap-
petites and our selfishness and uachar-
itableness, with here and there ghost
ly semblance of virtue dimly shadowed
amid the tainted atmosphere that, like
a dense cloud, heavily hung about us,
and we vainly try to appease upbraid-
ing conscience with special pleas and
plausible promises, or to compromise
with the recording angel by substitute
ing good resolutions for past delin-
quencies.
In our anxiety to pacify the goading
spirit within, we overlook the simple
but significant truth that opportunities
once lost cannot be recalled at will, and
forget that in our eagerness to taste of
the alluring pleasures so temptingly
spread before us, we had failed to util-
ize our opportunities, and now that they
had gone from us, we must reap the
harvest of our needless sowings. In
eXorable conscience refuses to be ap-
peased and we are forced to drink the
cup that we had so improvidently pre-
pared. This from the sadder leaves.
But hopefully we turn to the brighter
pages and there see faithfully penciled
the forms of the friends of our child
hood and youth, around whom cluster
tuch happy, hallowed remembrances,
the loving face of sainted mother
whose gentle words of wisdom and in
struction, long forgotten, come back to
us now with augmented force and
we hear our fathers voice
in kindly advice or mild correction and
look upon the bright happy features of
dear brothers and sisters, the partners
in our pleasures, the partakers of our
stead hidden among the trees over
shadowing its ivy crowned gables and
joyously mingling in the in
nocent amusements and simple pas
lines of childhood, riding the horses to
water, with old Dick as our guardian
angel, helping to drive up the COWS,
eed the poultry and hunt the eggs,
naring the artless rabbit, gathering
stores of nuts and apples, picking the
weet wild berries, and all of the other
,uileless diversions of childhood. We
zee our little sweetheart, glance from
whose tender eyes would cause such
in our bosom, and
remor in our limbs and voices, and
whose smile could charm away our
most passionate griefs. We see the old
tone church, with its moss-grownr roof,
IS narrow, diamond-paned windows,
IS broad aisles and high-backed pews,
5here we restlessly sat and listlessly
earkened to the services, so long and
Iearisome to our childish impatience,
ut the old rector is no longer there,
nth the softened sunshine stealing
trough the stained window panes and
amid his thin white hair,
S he reverently read the lessons for
lie day, or told of the gentle Jesus.
lis loving labors have long ceased, and
e softly sleeps in the quiet churchyard
le sleep OF the just. We see the old
I'LL, its huge wheel fast wearing with
ge, below which we used to fish and
vim, and over whose dust-whitened
oors we used to play among the meal
nd flour bags, or sit upon the shaded
oop and drowsily listen to the melan-
loly creaking of the moaning ma
linery. We see all this and more,
Id for brief space we are young
rain.
Here are the debit and credit sides of
'e's ledger; who dare strike the bal
lce? And now, with the record open
fore us, with all of the recollections
brings to our view, what would we
1t give to retrace our steps and live
er our lives? How we could grasp
II opportunities, avoid the evil and
ing to the good.
Such retrospection is profitable, if the
ssons thence drawn be faithfully APP
led, in encouraging and stimulating
a better and nobler life; but indeed