The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1902-10-22

.,me distant place one is not likely to
link great deal about his destina'
.;on in. during the early part Of the jour
Wv, Wv He is Interested in the scenery
Ib through which he is passing, in the
.omforts .n or discomforts that surround
him. him. in his fellow passengers, and in
,he progress that is made day by day.
All these things so occupy him that
10 has but little time to spare for
d1ellipg upon what he will find at
bis journeys end, or what he will do
.fter he arrives there. But as day
.fter day passes and the miles multi
nlv behind him his thoughts begin to
,uru to the future, and he dwells
more and more on the reception that
awaits him in the ssrange place with
er he is bound; what will be the man
ner Of his arrival, whom he will meet
there, if by chance there shall be any
of his former acquaintances or friends
70 bid him welcome, and of how much
value will be the credentials that he
is carrying with him into the new life
upon which he is so soon to enter.
The little incidents Of the journey do
not matter so much now that he has
these important subjects in his mind.
Sometimes he is confident and full Of
hope; at other times hia spirits sink at
the prospect Of what he must en-
counter and his thoughts turn back
with mournful longing to all the
pleasant things he is leaving behind,
to the dear friends from whom he
must part forever.
Not ipaptly does this exemplify the
feelings with which one passes through
life, so busy with the crowding Incl.
dents Of each day, and with the joys
and sorrows they bring, that he can
not spare time to think Of the end,
that end which in youth and health
seems SO very far off. Although we
daily see others who are not 50 old as
ourselves cut down by disease or acci-
dent, and dying before their prime,
we never really take it to ourselves
that such may also be our fate; we
have secret feeling that we shall be
spared to see ripe old age, and so
we do not trouble about the end of
life or about what lies beyond it for
us, except in very general way.
Even when we bring ourselves to speak
Of it we do so without any very deep
earnestness in what we are saying
and think Of it as remote contingen-
cy.
1t is wonderful how our views
change with regard to old age as we
advance in years. In boyhood we re-.
gard q as quite mature age and
sometimes foolishly long to reach that
period when we shall nominally be-
come our own master. When that
period arrives we look on man Of
40 as being old, and we have lost our
desire for time to hasten its fight go
as tc endcw Us With the mature pow.
ers that belong to that age. If we
reckon life by the Biblical measure
Of three score and ten, we have passed
the meridian when we reach 10; but
under favorable circumstances the
IRE OF life burns with IN Unfinished
vigor for several years longer, after
which it begins to slacken and grow
more and more feeble, until it finally
filckers out; or else is suddenly ex-
tluguished by strong gust Of wind,
In the form Of some sickness, which
we could easily have resisted in youth.
Old age does not come upon us sud-
denly. but is SO subtle in it's approach,
stealing on US with little furtive day
oy-day enoroachments that we hardly
notice it. until the fact that we are
growing old is forced upon us in some
unpleasant way. It may be difficult
Tor US to perceive any difference in
our feelings between the ages Of 45
and 30, but all the same the summit
OF our journey has been reached and
passed, and our pathway henceforth
trends downward to the end. 1t may
be near at hand, or still in the hazy
distance, but the diim portal we must
enter is somewhere before Us, and our
path leads through it to the unknown
land beyond.
Then, too, though we may not like
to recognize them, we have daily re.
mlnders Of our waning life. Not only
10 whitening locks aud deepening
lines bear their mute testimony, bbui
every sense, once so keen and alert,
commences to grow dull. We are fire..