Herald and news. [volume] (West Randolph, Vt.) 1878-1943, 1894-12-27

great ocean of infnity. Another
trembling ray from mans life-sun has
been sent upon its mission through
measureless space. Another round has
been fashioned in the ladder of destiny
and before us is the new year. All
the mighty centuries, with their ag-
gregate creation of form from chaos,
have been built from these molecules
of time. AS the coral in the depths OF
the sea becomes the basic fragment OF
continent only when it has yielded
up the body in which it was sensate
organism. so our years, precious to US
thrilling with the emotions that mark
existence. become fragments Of the
worlds history only when we lose our
grasp of them and they are gone. They
become imperishable only when TO us
they have dropped petal by petal their
DAYS. and their color and fragrance
have departed.
Time is the most profound OF all
mysteries. the most unfathomable OF
ali secrets. Intangible yet potent,
coming whence who can tell, going
whittier who lznows2 Each year is an
epitome of all that has come and gone,
since the first indestructible atom Of
matter displaced the darkness of pri-
mordial emptiness, and wandering on
the wings of ether found an orbit, and
became the nucleus of universe. With
in the bosom of the years lies the
story of man from the cradle to the
grave. the unwritten history of unborn
nations; the rise and fall of empires,
systems and creeds; the riddle which
can never be read by mortal eyes. We
look at the past and strive to grasp its
meaning, to garner up few sheaves of
wisdom. We turn our eyes to the flu
ture. enraptured at the mirage Of wav-
ing fields Of untrod6en effort, ready for
the sickle of the mind, and looking
backward and forward the precious
present slips away and tomorrow be
comes yesterday.
A new year, Heir Of all the wealth
Of the old years, pulsing with possibil-
ity. great with promise tits well that
we bow the knee and lift the heart,
as the old passeth, and the new cometh
out of the door Of the storehouse Of
future centuries, surrounded by its
cycle of days, each bearing aloft its un-
lit torch awaiting the signal Of the
bridegroom.
Nations, like the planet upon which
they live, have their era of subsistence
and emergence, their tidal waves
and earthquakes, their glacial epoehs
and their periods Of teeming fertility
of thought and achievement as well as
of glory and prosperity. Now and
again they are shaken TO their center
and old forms give way to newer and
better. Thus is the miracle of creation
made recurrent. Looking upon the
life-chart of nations, as it lies spread
out before MS in history, we see here
and there an illumined mountain
peak, Mohammed, Christ, Luther or
Cromwell, and here and there burned
ont crater Of passion, a Waterloo. a
Flodden Field, Gettysburg, Noun
tain-peak and crater are part Of the
great scheme of humanity, abiding
places for the eternal sunlight guiding
men to loftier heights of patriotism
and purity, or warnings of the smol-
dering fires which keep the earth
throbbing with heat and vitality,
when prisoned, but unclaimed involve
It in ruin.
The year that has gone has been one
of regret and disappointment to us as a
people. Like the prophet of old we
have looked to the heavens for a sign
and found it not, and bowling our
hearts we have waited with what pa
thence we might for Time, the healer,
to cause us TO forget our wounds. All
that was in the old year, but the dawn
of new future shines upon us. As we
| gaze upon its first roseate ray we pic
ture to ourselves the qualification OF
hope deferred We hear in the tones
of the bell, still quivering with the
dirge Of the past, new strain. II
breathes Of hope, tells of strife soothed
to peace, hatred quenched in forgive.
ness We follow the ray and II leads
us TO the embers on the hearthstone OF
the old year. Looking closer, we find
it was kindled there. Amid the ashes
of shame and violence, fires Of patriot
| lsll anu hfpthtTlN love SUN uufntu
Dark indeed viii be the old year tina,
sees them quenched in cur land; darker
still the new year that gives no promise
of liberty under law and no respect for
the ideals of the mast.
Another year, would we linger in the
portals of the past. where we hav,
been garlanded with love and joy Of
where age has crowned us with frui
ton? Behind us the crowding centu
ries push like great army hurryins
in hot haste to the victory. Onwar,
they press, sweeping all before them
Alasl we may not pause Reluctant o.
willing, we are hurried forward towar,
those battlements. which. seen DIM
against the horizon, may be mist
shrouded and so near at hand that tn
ext step will bring us to the grin
gates which open but once to ever,
mortal, and behind which there is
mystery greater than that Of Time
Those trampling centuries, thunderinl
forward with "A tread lilo the r,,,,e;,. =,