The spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1840-1844, 1840-10-16
THOUGHTS AND SENTIMENTS,
EXTRACTED FROM BuLwER's "GoDoLpHIN

The child may forget its mother, and the moth
er desert the child; but never, never, from a wo-
mans heart departs the memory of the first con-
fession of love from him whom she first loves e
Are not the blessings of the world like the en-
chanted bullets J that which perces our heart is
unit'd with the gift which our heart desired
The sons of the North are pre-eminently liable
to be affected by that romance of emotion which
the hushed aud starry aspect of night is calculated
TO excite. The long-unbrokcn, luxurious silence
that in their frozen climate, regns from the going
down of the sun TO its rise; the wandering and sud-
den meteors that dispor, as with an impsh life,
along the nOseess and solemn heaven the pecu-
liar radiance Of the star, and even the sterile and
severe features of the earth, which they light up
with their chill and ghoslly serenity serve to deep
en- the effect Of the wizard tales which are inslled
into the ear of childhood, and to connect the less
known and more visionary impulses of life with the
influences, or, at least, with the associations Of
Night and Heaven.
1t is dark and comfortess path, that of pre-
science and unearthy knowledge, save to the few
that walk it with gifted light and fearless soul.
II is not for women and children--nay, for few
among men: it wi,hers up the sap Of life, and
makes the hair gray before its time.
There is something in the quiet Of nature like
worship it is as if from the breaihless heart Of
things went up prayer or homage to the Arch
Creator. One feels subdued by stiffness so utter
and so august; ii extends itself to our own sensa-
tons, and deepens into an awe.
II is in sickness that we feel our true reliance on
others, especially il it is of that vague and not dam
gerous character when those around us are not
shamed or reused into attendance when the care,
and the vigilance are the result Of that sympathy
,yhirh trup and daen lnvp only feels
Life differs from the play only in this-it has no
plot all is vague, desultory, unconnected, till the
curtain drops with the mystery unsolved.
| Like the soul of the landscape is the gush of n
fresh stream it knows no sleep, no pause; il works
for ever-the life, the cause of life to all around
The great fame of nature may repose but the spIr-
| it of the waters rests not for moment. AS the
soul Of the landscape is the soul Of man, in ouI
deepest slumbers its course glides on, and works
unsent unslumbering, through its destined chan
mel.
There are certain moments when the time we
have been forgetting makes its march suddenly ap
parent to our own eyes; when the change we have
hitherto marked not stares upon US rude and alb
rupt; we almost fancy those lines, those wrinkle.
planted in single hour, so unperceived have the,
been before.
1t is the most common thing in the world that
when we have once wronged person, we go OF
in the wrong, from a certain soreness with which
conscience links the associations of the injured par
ty.
To be happy, we must render ourselves indepen
dent of others.
There is that in theatrical representation which
perpetually awakens whatever romance belongs Il
our character. The magic lights the pomp o
scene; 1.-The palace; the camp; the forest; the mid
night world; the image moonlight on the water
the melody of the tragic rythm the grace of tn
comic wit the strange art that gives such mean
ing TO the poets highest word the fair, false, ex
citing life that is detailed before us-crowding in
to some three little hours all that our most bus
ambition could desire-ove, enterprise war, glo
nv the kndng exaggeration Of the sentiments
which belongs to the stage-like our own in GU
boldest moments all these appeals to our fine
senses are not made in vain. Our taste for castle
building and visions deepens upon us; and W
chew mental opium, which stagnates all the 9th
er faculties, but wakens that ofthe ideal.