The record-union., 1899-10-08
A BLESSING, OR A CURSE?
WHAT SHALL BE THE EVENING
OF OUR LIVES?
Address Delivered by HI. Weinstsck
at the Friday Services at
the Synagogue.


AT the services at the synagogue on
Friday evening H. Weinstock delivered
an address on: ''Old Age-Shall 1t BE
Blessing or a Curse?''
There comes before my mind said the
speaker the picture of an ola
man whose career is filled with many
remarkable events. AS a youth, he was
full of energy and the spirit of adven-
ture; full of hope and ambition. LeaV-
ing home at an early age he started
for the far West and, after months OF
toll and privatiOn, of hardship and
suffering, in crossing the plains with
his OK team, he reached the golden
shores of California and started out in
his search after dame fortune. Many
were the weary days spent midst for
ests and mountains prospecting for
the glittering metal which was to give
him wealth and ease, fortune and COM
fort; many were the days he spent toll
ing and moiling with nothing to sus-
tain life but scant bit of salt junk
and short ration of hard tack. Many
a night did he spend with naught but
Gods earth for a resting place, the
the howl of the wildcat for company.
Months of suffering passed, but the
search was fruitless and seemed utter
~ hopeless. Others, more faint hearted,
had long since given up the quest and,
dishearteped and disappointed, had re-
traced their steps back to civilization,
to engage in other pursuits
Not so with our adventurous friend
who hoped against hope and who never
despaired. Deeper and deeper did he
find his way into the great mountains
by which he was surrounded, until
finally, when hope was nearly gone,
when strength was nearly gone he
made a great discovery. He had struck
lead which proved one of the richest
yet found in the land of gold From
the direst poverty he was soon lifted
into affluence. From want and suffer-
ing he was soon raised to ease and
comfort He sold his find for a hand
some fortune and wearied of his rough
mountain experiences, hurried to the
metropolis where he could enjoy the
comforts of life and recuperate from
the hardships he had so long under
gone. His sagacity, his shrewdness and
his keen business judgment enabled
him to invest his good sized fortune so
that it brought him large and speedy
returns.
Everything he touched seemed to
turn into gold. His hundreds came
back to him as thousands, his thou
sands as hundreds of thousands and his
hundreds of thousands as millions
His lands and his cattle, his houses and
his lots, his bonds and his stocks, null
tiplied on him so rapidly that the prob
lem with him became how to reinVest
and how to care for his wonderfully in
creasing wealth. Men marveled at his
good fortune and looked on in wonder
as it daily waxed more fat His un-
rivaled prosperity filed him with ex-
allied notions of his own judgment and
of his mental and commercial genius.
He began to look upon the rest of the
world as far beneath him in power and
in ability. His great wealth seemed to
him to be self-evfdent proof of his su-
periOrity over his fellows. He soon
learned TO look upon himself as self
made and to adore his maker.
Being his own god, he made his own
moral laws, and they were the laws of
lust and of passion. Virtue grew tC
him to be nothing but myth; purity,
a thing to be laughed at; woman, a
plaything; and home, a place for in
valids and idiots. For years and years
he led the life of a libertine anu gave
himself up to the basest and lowest
passions. His great wealth enabled
him TO keep beyond the clutches of the
law for the commission of wrongs that
would have sent poorer men behind pris-
on walls. But in time there came a
turn in his affairs. The energy of mind
and sharpness of intellect which had
been undermined by years of licentious-
ness, began to give way. His COM
mercial shrewdness seemed to leave
him; bad years We're followed by bad
years. Droughts came: fires came;
calamities came; and the magnificent
fortune which had once been the envy
of men, began to grow less and less.
In order to meet great financial obli-
cations. money lenders had to be re-
sorted to who profited by their victim s
misfortunes and eXacted high rates of
interest until, in tottering old age and
near the verge of the grave the crisis
came, and all, all was swept away The
once great millionaire suddenly found
himself a beggar. with wife estranged
by his brutal conduct, with children
embittered by his disgraceful and inn
moral career. with those gone who
during his prosperous days, pretended
to be his friends.
After a life of three-score years and
ten. the greater part of which had been
spent in leading a thoroughly selfish
heartless. lustful career, years in which
he might have enjoyed life of purity
Of benevolence. of kindliness, of help
fulness, when his millions might have
been used for the betterment of man
kind, he found himself filed with de-
spair; hated, despised unloved afrj un-
loving, with wealth gone; health gone
friends gone: respect gone; with body
shriveled and heart corrupted.
Can any one picture a more wretched
a more dreadful old age? Is there any
living creature more to he pitied?
There comes to my mind yet another
picture; this time it is that of a fash
ionable church wedding The sacred