Bloomington herald. [volume] (Bloomington, I. T. [Iowa]) 1840-1849, 1841-07-23

My text for this occasion may be found
in the writings of Sir Samuel Garth, in
these words:
Discord ever haunts with hideous men
These dire abodes where Hymen once has BEEN
NV hearers-There is no sweet without
its bitter-no pleasure without its pain
and morally speaking no harmony without
its discord. In the midst of the worlds
most harmonious music the harsh tones of
discord CRATE upon the ear, and makes one
feel about as uncomfortable as does the
sound of a fire shovel when rubbed over
the gritty surface of stone hearth. 1t is
true there are a few habitations on this
crustaceous globe where the children of
Harmony reside, and from whence we are
greeted with dulcet strains, as smooth and
as oily as the silvery notes of an angels
Lutte but these, combined with the wretch
ed ianging of the world at large, make
music as hideous as EZRA Diavolo'' play
ed upon a tin whistle and accompanied
with string of sleigh bells. Many, who
pretend to be sharp sighted enough to see
through brick Dat in cloudy night, can>
not discover but that unison of feeling
and of motive bind man to his brother man
in all civilized and enlightened commune
ties but tell you, my friends, that self
ishness, ambition, and avarice have rusted
many Of the brightest links in the social
chain, and deadened the harmony of. its
reverbrations.
My dear friends-apart from the gene
raj conflicts that agitate the human family,
there is domestic discord, more disagree
able and more to be dreaded than any 9TH
err. 1t haunts the deserted castles OF love,
where Hymen once sang the songs of glad
ness and joy. 1t jars the happiness of
multitudes who are fastened firmly in the
matrimonial cage, and renders life to them
a series of perpIexities and wo. When
see two congenial hearts welded together
in feeling, sympathy, and love--two,souls
blended in one, like the calm meeting of
two peaceful streams in fowery vale
it does. really appear as though they new
er would be disturbed by any of the con-
ficting storms that sweep over the world
and beat in upon the domestic peace of
human families. All with them is ioy
and rapture. Not cloud mars the blue
heaven of their enjoyment-the atmos>
phere that surrounds them is scented with
kisses and cologne-every passing breeze
whispers of connubial love and while
one flower fades upon the bush of indul-
gence, two more are expanding in the
dews of reciprocal affection, and promise
gay blossoms for the morrow. But oh |!
my friends, how soon are these delightful
extravagances banished from the sight
What a change, TOO, frequently comes
over the scene even before the last horn Of
honey moon has disappeared; and such a
change, as Byron might remark--O night
and darkness, devour it up forever! What
was before all light and loneliness, is sud
denly changed to gloom and sorrow. That
which was harmony, has become discord,
and the downy pillow Of peace is crammed
full Of thorns of discomfort Earrings,
chickering's, frettings, seedlings and up-
braidings, make bedlam Of the bower Of
love, and frighten pleasure from beyond
Its precincts. With the unhappy couple
it is now-you will and you wont--you
shall and you shant--and you'll catch it if
you dInt, whereas but little while before
the one would wade through sea Of soap