Martinsburg gazette. [volume] (Martinsburg, Va. [W. Va.]) 1833-1855, 1842-06-16
NEUTRALITY-SUSPICIOUS.
From The Federick (Md Herald.
THE POETRY OF HUMBLE LIFE.

| THE POETkr OF HUMBLE LIFE.
How few and there are few, VIII,
are contented to live tranquilly--to NOV,
through life with moderate and equabl,
motion. And this is not because they ar,
either dull of apprehension, slaggish il
their thoughts, or incapable OF leeling.-
But sensitive and quick, they not only
see and hear, but feel all that is arounC
them. Blcst with an inherent love o
truth, they are able to discern the truly
valuable in all things however great oil
mean in others eyes. And q calm con.
serva,ive power within them, the child o.
cheerful faith and humble hope arms them
effectually against all that breathes the
spirit Of malice toward their happiness.
Fixed thus IN the quiet home Of free and
Joyous thought-thought, joyful in its own
actvity-the agents Of The mind are ever
on the alert to range abroad and gather
into the Srore.house OF Life, all tina, is
bright and lovely. Unsurfeited by sud
den feas,s but seated ever in the midst
Of congenial plenty, the soul with contin.
ual OBSERVATION-DISCLOSURES in, and nssimi-
a,es to herself, by her own unstimulated
energy, all these elements Of life and Joy
and beauty. Thus the spirits plastic
power, heavenward bent, gradually com.
pletes and harmonzes, strengthens and
consolldates the wonderful and fearful
structure OF the soul and melIows and
deepens her tones as she advances
through time, until in Paradise she stands
before her God, a vast, redeemed, and
living organ. Before her keys Eternity
sits down, and with rapid hand, sum-
mons from her Utmost pipes the lightly
strains of praise which echo loud through
the golden temple ofthe New Jerusalem.
But the many, fascinated in youth with
the pleasures Of exhilara,ed feeling, con-
yer, the body irto little less than steam
locomotive, in which the soul is to dash
along the track OF time with the swiltness
Of an arrow. Despising the things which
lie about and near her, as being common
and unclean, she deserts her native ele.
ment, and speeds from cline to cline TO
gather in whatever breathes the air OF
foreign greatness, in order TO kindle high
er and still higher the propelling, passion
fires Of this car. prosti,uted imagina.
lion is dispatched in every direction like
a purveyor to provide exquisite delights
and powerful stimulants which shall shar
pen her blunted senses, provoke her pam-
pered appe.ites, and rouse her deadened,
over-strained feelings to tho required
pitch Of intensity. The soul sits down
4 nd n IA
raj feas,s, in greedy haste, until her ener-
gies are surfeited and absolutely refuse 10
act. Rap,ured emoli ons, too big for in
FAINT nature rush in, in dizzying whirls oil
novelty, whose tremendous pu'sations dis
Joint the mind and shake the body, until
il sinks, diseased and swollen, broken
down and dshonored into premature
grave.
To tho many readers of poetry, that
kind alone seems valuable which has the
peculiar power Of hurrying into a few
hours, the enjoymen, of years. That
which deals with present realities and their
natural relations, has no charm for them.
Distance from the present and real, must
lend to poetry its bewitchment or 1t is per-
fectly insipid. AT one time they must be
carried back into the past, where dimness
shadows forth objects in gigantic size
At another, they must be borne forward
into the future, where unchastened and
extravagant hope paints life in gorgeous
colors, and where the banquets OF drea-
my bliss, without the brow Of toll to give
them gustfulness, are spread by indulgen
Fate for selfish ease.--Agaln, they mus
be rapt away from earth, into the com
partnership Of distracted affections and
desires, wrought up into passions person.
fled by fairy knights and ladies. where
mutual commerce is unfettered by the re
lations and restraints of human lile,--ol
if, perchance, the present and localll,
on earth have lent to them a charm to VIII
a look and a smile, it is only when the up
braidngs of memory are drowned by TIT
din Of passion, foresight blinded by TIL
dust she raises, thought like children lalt
in the dust, and they are hurried like TIT
unthinking horse, into