Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1891-07-08
Beautiful Old Age.
AN ELOQUENT TRIBUTE TO THE PERIOD OF
DECLINING STRENGTH.

DECLINING STRENGTH.
There is such thing as beautiful old
age. When the rosy color is all goae,
when the pretty dimples have become
wrinkles. and youths charming graces
have disappeared beneath the gnawing
tooth of time, then comes the period that
tries of what material the man or woman Is
made. Alas for the old age that has moth
ing left it but wrinkles and gray hairs.-
Nature takes a horrible revenge upon the
life that has been given over to selfish
pleasure-seeking first and selfish repining
afterward. There are few objects more
pitiful than an old, peevish, DISCONTINUED
man or woman, with life steadily going
out like the fame of burned-out candle,
and with nothing pleasant to dwell upon n
the past, nothing hopeful to look forwa' d
to in the future.
But lovely old age! Draw up the arm
chair, place the foot-stool before it, and
bring the young people to look upon this
perfect beauty that comes when the year
has been prosperous one and the shock is
fully ripe for the garner. There is no
other beauty like it; the beauty of ma.
tured, well-rounded, harmonious life,
ready and waiting for the change that will
come as softly as the closing in Of a sum
mer evening.
Blessed is the household that has an
armchair in it, where the closing of life is
filled with submission and hope, with
resignation and peace and trust. A figure
is in my mind while write-the figure of
an old lady whose hair is as white as a
snowdrift. What storms have passed over
that whitened head, I wonder? Along
what thorny paths has she been compelled
20 60? Doubtless, troubles have closed
around her many times, until it seemed
that there was no way of escape; but she
was led on, step by step, and there was al
ways the pillar of cloud by day, or fire by
night. She has come past all the thorny
ways at last, and rests on the shores of the
placid river. "What lovely face" is the
cry of every one who sees her, and people
turn and look after her lingeringly. "What
a lovely face!"
Blessed is the household that has an
armchair in it. Put the armchair in the
cheeriest corner. Let light and pleasant
conversation and genial laughter be about
it. If you haYe cares, keep them to your
self. The trembling form that sits in the
armchair has borne the burden for long
time, and now has the right to lay it down.
Some day there will be no use for the old
chair. The snowy hair will be smoothed
down for the last time; the wrinkIed face
will settle into profound repose. Keep
smiles and sunny warmth for trembling old
age while it is here.
When We come to occupy the old arm
chair how will it be with us, l wonder?
Perhaps we, too, will find that the tears
come easily, for SO many who started
through life with us have grown weary and
fallen by the wayside; perhaps we will
find that we did not fight our battles as
earnestly or unselfishly as we might have
done; perhaps feeble age and its enforced
inactivity will stir up all that is bitter and
rebell;ous in our nature. But, ah! let us
hope rot. Let US live so truly and nobly
that when sat the last shall come old age"
il shall crown us with the placid restfulness
that should come at the close of every well.
spent life, and may all our doubts and
struggles be answered when we journey
down to the tomb and find the stone rolled
away.-St. Louis Globe Democrat.