Montgomery County sentinel. [volume] (Rockville, Md.) 1855-1974, 1895-01-04
THE ON AND NEW YEAR,

A ~ NI~N "A ~ ~ AVE- W \ HI"a
Before this issue Of the SENTINEL shall
have reached the Preside Of its patrons, the
curtain will have fallen, and slowly and
duly through the hush OF the midnight air
the deep mouthed clangor and the sweet
silvery chimes from mighty cathedral and
humble chapel will have sounded on in IN
broken circle around the world-iron strokes
that dealt out the merciless passage Of time,
sbadowy bells that echoed mournfully over
the waters, wild beating cadences, now lost,
now heard, dinly finging in waves Of sound
upon the silence, telling of the death Of the
Old and proclaiming the birth Of the New
one went TO rest in the black and endless
waste Of the ocean Of obscuritY-whilst
softly as the fu;ter Of an angels wing, the
very melody Of silence, the new born like
a mighty monarch strobe forth to contest
the Empire of Earth.
The old year is dead Like giant loco.
motive dashiDg through the heart Of the
midnight come lis ponderous and startling
reflections. The old mirror was never made
by human hands which, if all the images ii
has in its time reflected, could pass across
its surface again would fail 10 reveal some
deep emotion Of sorrow-to disclose a past
laden with bitter memories and Swallowed
by regret.
Yes, the fond old year is with the past
How its recolections cluster around the
shattered vase like broken flowers under
storm, and still moist with the dew Of
death What jeweled joys it brought What
hours freighted with love it gave? What
golden opportunities serene and slvered
with promise il offered Into what quiet
and beautiful paths lringed with flowers
and filled with the music Of birds it led us
On how these treasured moments come
back to us like the sweet and lingering
smiles on dying lips in voiceless and eternal
farewell 10 all they have loved and blessed
how their quiet murmurs steal way down
into the soft corners Of our hearts like the
rays OF setting sun falling in crimson waves
over the foliage, the brown rolling woods,
and the rivers yellow with the dead leaves
of the water-liies
The old year is gone If it brought many
happy and bright hours, it was also laden
with many dark and gloomy ones--many
black spots. What hopes it has blasted
What aspirations swelling with promise
has il buried in the darkness Of the night
sunk in the deeps? How many heart has
itfung with the agony OF remOrse-yet never
furnished the delirium Of release What
tpiiaphs has it written and how many
nameess graves has ii made on which the
grass has grown aud rotted and which is
now covered with a maAtle Of snow
How mutely eloquent the old arm chair
now vacant and resting idly in a favored
cnme the smile of some sainted wife and
mother resting over US like benodiction
alter prayer How much Of glorious and
rounded manhood has it seen drifting down
the waters oi lorgetluness, the vsriest play.
thing Of the wind and waves wrecked all
along lis checkered course, and how many
does il leave resting on the pedestal Of de.
bauchery, mere husks Of humanity looking
with tired eyes down the road that leads TO
death and oblivion How many little banks
that started on it, white and whirling sea,
ireighted with love and dewy with sweet
ness, has il dismanted and wrecked
Now that the fond old year is lost 10 the
great lathomless gulf of Time, we feel, keenly
feel, how deeply 1t has been wronged. lit
brought sickness, death and affection. if it
has wrecked love, hope, aspiration and en-.
terprise, IL at tho same time offered rs pre
cious gifts hint might have added to us
treasures beyond price. 1t brought us sage
counsels from It's fathers, pointed us to bripb,
examples of stead(ast virtue and purpose
bnt in vain. MANY times in the isolation of
A Quiet moment il gave us pure and holy
thoughts that rocked on the bosom until
they were consumed by the fl res of deadly
and bitter passion. MANY times the hun
gered and rooHess have stood at our doors
asking for bread-we gave them but A
under the winds-unJer the starlsss skies
Many times a poor outcast, homeless and
dishonored. dwelling in the atmospbere Of
shame. steeped with the guilt of a great ain
with soiled aud ta,tered garments. has made
her way To our homes through the murkev
and floating shadows of the night while in
the stillness ,here onlv hroLe tho s;oh;,o or
the winds the echo of the church hollis and
begged for help, for pitty-we gave no AZ.
sis,apce To the errinp and abandoned How
many times have we been led IN the door oC
the miserable and afflicted. vet we com.
forted them no, We have turned coldly
AWAY from these golden opportunities Of ex.
tending any aid or sympathy.
The radiant. the painted and bedizened
bar maids the soualid miserable carousipp
bacchanals each with the brand of Cai, nm
his hardened brow men brutalized women
unsexed children prev in iniop;,v and who