There are pictures of childhood and manhood and old age; pictures of love and battle, and joy and sorrow; pictures of suc cess and failures, of struggles and peace; pictures of music and discord, of friends and enemies. I propose to talk about these pictures for a while, I don't know how long. You needn't listen unless you like; it won't hurt you to listen, and it may not make you any wiser; it may put you to sleep and that will be well, or it may help you to while away an hour when you have nothing better to do. There will be nothing wonderful about these pictures, for they will represent the move ments of an ordinary life and I am no great artist. I propose to divide these seventy years into Seven Decades and compare the importance and the work of each with the others. First, when the rod was not spared; Second, when the girl appeared; Third, when the wife was found; Fourth, when the voices of children were heard; Fifth, when the battle for bread was on, and the city lured; Sixth, when the footprints were on the mountain top andthe face was towards the sunset; Seventh when the yellow leaf was fluttering in the wintry winds and the snows began to fall and the time approached when, the silver cord was to be loosed, or the golden bowl was to be broken.
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