The watchman and southron. [volume] (Sumter, S.C.) 1881-1930, 1910-08-24
Reporting Progress from Beaufort.

SOIt VI TepOIt COHCeTniHB mySeH lOT
the enlightenment Of my Sumter
| friends and constituents; but really
| 1 have had no time to write. am
| down here in Beaufort, trying to fix
| up a decent home for rse in my old
age. For two weeks, I we been up
| to my eyes, so to say, in bricks, lime
| and mortar, overseeing two overseers
and some ten or fifteen colored labor
ers. One OF these days, you know, I
shall have to leave Sumter. No mat
| ter how many my friends nor great
the charms Of the place, aye and ad-
| vancing years will indicate that
| ought to get away. While my work
there has not been a failure, it Is yet
| fully possible for me to hang on to
1t too long, and undo much that
have done. The inability Of old men
to perceive things is pathetic. The
senses grow old along with the body,
and often become dull and percept-
ionless. Many an old man thinks he
| is ripe when really he is rotten. He
mistakes age for wisdom. His facul-
ties are dead, but he imagines he Is
just as able to do things as ever be-
fore in his life. The very sense by
| means Of which he detects his age is
the thing which has weakened, and
hence he has lost the power to know
his real condition. For this reason,
not a few preachers hang on to their
pastorates long enough to undo all
they haze done. The full congrega-
tion dwindles away to a handful, and
all the while, the old man is fiat
tering himself that he has just now
learned to preach. I know of places
in South Carolina where this condi-
tte ey shall never exist in Sumter.
Hence l am looking to the future in
my own interest and in the interest
of those l have been serving so long.
AS soon as my Sumter constituents
begin to call me "Old man Brown"
I intend to fold my tent like the
Arab, and silently steal away" I have
a lovely home down here by these
Beaufort waters. Right now as I
write, the tide water is scarcely a
hundred feet away from me. The
mullet are leaping up, the shrimp
are seeking the marshes, and the
borders of the river seem to be in
quite commotion. In my front, to
my rear and on the east, all is water,
water. water. To the south, for a
struction, and the winds from the sea
| come up to bless me almost the whole
day long. The entire prospect is
beautiful to look upon. It will be a
grand place for an old man to sit in
life's evening, to review the hallow-
ed past, and await the more hallowed
| future. So I am here getting ready
not that I have any purpose now of
leaving Sumter, but only to be ready
when the time comes, and the good
sense Of my friends indicates that
should get away. Sure, I can never
| find another place on earth which
| bristles so with friends-friends, too,
| Of the best kind, who know how to
condone my faults and bear with my
| rtcomings-friends who are not
| nf hr1t q
| of my whole life. Nothing could tear
me away from them, but a profound
| sense of duty and the deep convic-
| tion that when a pastor surrenders
| his pulpit, he should move away, and
| not hang around his old field to har-
| ass his successor, or, as is sometimes
So. my busy days down here go
| rapidly by. / have not had time to
waste in fishing or grabbing. Now
| and then the little family here slips
| out from our back door for dip
| in the tide and l go with them, but
beyond that ] am at work, and not
at play. My good friend, Deacon
Danner. has placed his beautiful gaso-
line boat at my disposal. but l have
| used it only once. However we have
set apart Thursday the 18th as the
day for a frolc, and a party of us
will go on a pilot boat to the black
| fish banks, outside the Port Royal en-
| trance. On our former visit to the
| banks, we caught more than thous-
and fish with lines-the nine Of us
who did the fishing. Once, however,
| We failed to reach the banks at all.
| ~ rough sea made navigation impos-
| sible. j have asked several Sumter
| friends to come down and join us on
| this present venture, but politics and