Litchfield enquirer., 1842-12-29
Ton THE ENQUIRER. THE RUINS OF MIND

The impartial finger of fate has inscribed mutabi. lity all things earthly. Even mind from the close connection which it maintains with these low grounds where sin and sorrow grows, has been subject to change. Wave follows wave in quick succession, each burying its predecessor, and destined in its turn to become tho grave of that which succeeds it. Az one generation bursis into existence utters for a moment on the bosom of time, then crowds the one in advance into the tomb, and sinks itself into oblivion; 90 all things oftempOral nature are doom. ed to spend their period of bloom and decay. The proudest monarch that ever yielded sceptrs over oriental millions has seen the day when hs yielded that sceptre for the last time. Nations whose fame has echoed and re-echoed from side to side of the blue vault of heaven, have bid an eternal adeu to all
 their greatness-but their works of industry and art still declare by their fragments what they once were
 Yes, Man is great. His productions manifest his power, even after they have been torn and shattered by the fitful storms of dssolaton. Antiquity boasts her carshnso "-A Pa.yrus .an:k es.s .suapss.a of adverse fortune have howled in end-like concert around these massive walls. yet few scattered r,- ins still remain to attest their former splendor-- Thebes and Balbec too, are still magnificent in the remnants of ancient glory. Upon those hoary mon- uments the traveller will ever love to dwell in rever- ential awe, and as he stoops to catch still more scrunzing glance at the records of the pass feels that he moves on hallowed gfound, and trembles at the sound of his own footsteps, fearing least some too incsutious tread might perchance awake the spi- Tit of other days. And are the ruins of mere matter thus grandl Are the fragments of material pride worthy the admiration of the wise and good of every Gho1l &h. o1,~aL L.o 1I~l .l. Eternal Truth has ordained that matter shall be con sumed? To what then shall it be conceded if not to matter? Can confer it on mind and is there such thing a ruined mind? Can it be that a spark of Divinity, fragment of Immortality, shall be ruined Bid humanity unroll her parchment and read myself the answer. Take a view of that dark catalogue of suicides, which in number as well as in crime, vies with the very lists of hell. Ask the wretch who dares plunge the dagger to his own bo- som-why so daring? Let his fevsred brain reply What are the various Lunatic Hospitals in our country but museums cabinets of curosities depo. sitores of the ruins of mind of mental antiquities oi kind most awfuly grand Startle not at the sound of madness. It will harm thee not. Fear not its cesses-examine its cells. Thy discoveries may wound thy delicate sensbiities but then thou wilt
 
 my soul! how that poor maniac writhes in anguish how his swollen ye-balls leap within their socketT while and anon his hollow fall upon the ear like distant shreks from tho caverns of despair
 His foolish smile, his convusiye groan, his fitful threat, but too plainly show that desolstOn reigns within. Here he stands victim of transgression, 6 monument of agony around whose summit the lightnngs of Almighty wrath sport in all the ven. gsance of Omnpotence. But yet he needs them not Even his former regard for the judgment of the deity has followed in the general wreck. See there shat delicate female sitting on that bed of straw clad in taters and shiverng in the cold embrace of winters icy arms. How heart-rending the thought, that hel own errors have doomed her thus to drag ost pain full existence in the very dregs of misery! knew her in her youth. Then. hope danced before heI captivated vision in the sunshine of coming prospe
 rity, and joyous anticipation painted in glowing col
 ours the veil of futurity. Of excellent parentage she was the pride of her friends the boast of her pa rsnts and the centre of attraction around which re yolyed the affections of all who had the honor of hel acquaintance If this world ever gave birth to one angelic spirits it was she. Her form was perfect her step light as that of the fairy queeR-her carriage as the movement of Venus, and her smile as benig nant as the blush of Aurora. Her miad was the sparkling gem set in golden corones. Here the graces loved to meet and hold sweet converse, and to the invocation of her soul the lent their ca ger ears. At her call they came sntranced. and caught new strains from her bewitching Tyre. Intel Iigence beamed from her eyes in all the effulgence of mind itse while the sweetness of her disposition joined to the most perfect amiabiity of character afforded shining mark for the keen oarts of envy But in an unlucky moment sis noble mind received