Sentinel of the valley. [volume] (Woodstock, Va) 1841-1848, 1842-07-14

all ln6 outward QlSlTeSS vi poNSit) It's
hunger and cold and pTivation-there
is work wrought upon the spirit by
its hard necessities, which occasions
suffering far keener than the body may
feel or know. No one who has rot felt
or narrowly observed the process OF
poverty-the perpetual lettering of de
sire, the pinehing, abstinent calculation,
the daily smothering in the heart of finn
pulses irresistibly strong-a duty not
the less painful than it is silent'and ha-
bitual-no one who has not looked up
on the unallevIated and accomplishing
misery Of the poor, pressing down
with whitening and leaden closeness,
every nerve capable Of sensation or en-
loyment-no one who has not watch
ed their self-denylng and unbroken la
Dor, continued when the strength is
faint and the heart is sick, and seen
them when released at the extreme mo-
ment, meeting, with the apathy Of ex-
haustion, the caresses and comforts of
their wretched home-no one who has
not seen all this, and compelled him
self to conque:r his ayerted eye, and
look upon it with the steady gaze of
sympathy, can have any idea of their
intolerable misery-any adequate con-
ception of its degrading, deadening,
influence upon the spirit and temper of
humanity. And this is not merely a
temporary forgetfulness of their natural
capacities-not cloud that darkens
for an hour but may pass by. 1t is a
gradual and final shutting out Of light
from the mind. 1t is the reding one by
one of the exquisite fbres Qflife-divl-
ding, with an edge keener than steel,
affections nourished in youth, and
wound about the heart with inexpressi-
bic tenderness. 1t is the pressing for
ever upon the eye images of dismal
want, and upon the mind a sick con-
sciousness that will not be put by, of
deperate, irremediable wretchedness.
We are not il this country familiar
with such poverty as this, but the effect
extends proportionally TO every degree
of want. Wherever it is felt daily, it
subdues the spirit, and shuts up in the
mind its own ever-present image, and
kills like mildew the delicate fbres
of refinement and feeling. And what
is the remedy? The circle of common
pleasure is invisible to the poor, for
they have not its talisman of gold !! 1t
has no medicine for "those who have no
money!" and no "wine and milk with
out price" The beauty and fragrance
and cheerful music of nature-gifts not
for the rich alone or the powerful-are
lost upon senses deadened by inward
care. They all come in their proper
seasons, and pass through their beauti-
full changes, but the poor have no heart
to enjoy them. And is this alp Is
there no other remedy' Has the clear
seeing Providence of God left class Of
its creatures to the mercy of a chance
they cannot govern, which may bring
them at any time a blindness to the
common light of Heaven, and fetter
for every sense capable of joy9 Re-
ligion, as it is meant for all, so it is adj
apted to the necessities of all. 1t en-
ters alike the cottage of the peasant
and the hall of the noble, and brings
to both the same priceless gift; but to
the former it brings another and not a
trifing blessing. will not dwell up
on the progress Of its pure refinement
and its beautiful and certain elevation
of taste. will only direct your eye to
the poor within the ippits Of your own
walks of beneyolence, and ask the re-
suit. You may select the religious por-
ton of them without passing a thresh-
old. An invarlable neatness is about
their dwellings. The hunple vine
creeps over their door, and she flower
pot stands in the window, and the cur
tain that shuts out the intruding eve
from the low room is Of snowy white
ness. The child that plays at the door
is quiet and clean. The sound of la
Dor is not mingled with noisy voices
in the day time, and at evening the
psalm of the Sabbath service is heard,
or the mother sits quietly in the porch,
or reads by her faint lamp, the Book
wherein her trust is hidden. Enter her
cottage, and youwill find meek cheer
fulness in their manner, mild express
| sion in.her face, and tone, free at
least from the violence common to her
station, and if she has felt the heavier
affections Of sickness and death, often
subdued and touching. Win her con-
fdence, and she will tell you that il
refreshes her in severe labor to look
out upon the pleasant sun and remem-
Der Gods goodness, and that she finds
now and then passage in her Bible
which opens her eye to some common