Portage sentinel. [volume] (Ravenna, Ohio) 1845-1854, 1845-06-19

. e't8A NUMbEh ONtis A1+@"r% ENr"h -
This delightful spring.time has suggested
the words Of my text: and have concluded
to preach upon this occasion from the follow.
ing: 80 W.T. '2 eiS' ~ flsA Aaasa 7.asp'
Fri What rs loUe? s11s
MY hearers-although this Is subject thar
has engaged the attention Of the gEeateat
minds; and one too, over which the mosE
gifted heads have; poured their snblimesss
strains, ever since the birth Of Eye; still it re-
mains profound enigma. It is Q something,
wide as immensity, beautiful and terrible, and
like all other magnets, cannot be compre>
hended. 1t is a wild ,ungoyerpable passion,
and ives like the rude child. Of the forest,
tameless, untamed. 1t is the glorious ,ebuli-
tion of our immortal nature--alf the warm,
wild symoathies of the human heart, concen-
trated and poured out, in one bold and una,
batting stream. Beware lest you get entan7
gled in its meshes. You may fall in love just
as easily as man falls down stairs; Or AZ
slick as your heels will fly of a frosty MORN
ing-and it will stick to you like the shirts Of
Nessus; or wax on warm day. II has led
captive minds that have shook the world. II
has caused pretty girls to weep until their
eyes were red as topers noses-and soap
locked dandies to commit suicide, or what is
worse get drunk. If all the sighs il has
caused we're gathered, and uttered in one long,
sorrowful, piteous, thunder-moan, it would
shake down the Andes. My frieuds--it will
make you romantic, and you will see more
beauty, and oveliness i'll all nature. You
will love TO wander by the pale light of the
moon-to listen to the murmurs of rivulets---
and watch I'll stars, as they perform their
eternal dances in the sky. No other passion
is any more to be compared to it, than the
feebest taper to those tall fires that blaze, on.
unconsuIned, in the heavens--or the dullest
hours, TO the rapture green eighteen feels
with his Ducinea hugged SO close to hin that
you could not get a knife blade bets cen them,
1t is only expressed in the language Of Poesy.
1t is known and felt by every refined, right
thinking woman-it lives in the imagination
and dreams of men, but is seldom evinced in
his actions. Ithas made glad the misetablese
hovel-and cheered the log hut of the nouns
taineer-followed the convict in exile--and
wiped the cold sweat from the brow of death
and made greenshorns sick as a dose Of
calome. 1t is that eternal chain, that grid,
less the world: and binds every warm heart, in
which has been kindled the fires of religion,
and freedom. in one imperishable bond Of
sympathy, tigh. as Sails corset. Ny dear
friends-you may be told by those who are
sick Of the worldwide, with faces as long as
rainbow, wander, fretful, sorrowful, and
melancholy, in the gloomy Wales Of despon-
dency-by the hypochondrac, the nun, :hs
misanthrope, and the anchoret-that there is,
no such thing as love. But such sentiments
are the offspring of dseaeeed minds. Nature
never made such .animals-they have been,
transformed by the insipldity of the heartless,
splen etc world; OF else by their own Stiffness.
envy not the man who can stand unmoved
on Thermopyl@, Bunkerhill, or the Alamo, OF,
any other place consecrated by, brave, yirtuous
and GLORIOUS actions. Far less do. ! envy the,
man whose heart is impervious to the. arrows,
of the blind baby -god-he must, have q, heart,
with no more feeling than his boot. heel.
But my friends-I trust you will not endorse,
such unphllosophcal sentiments, SO long, as :
the memory ofa fathers blessing, another =,
kindness, or a sisters love-. awakes a single
emotion within you-never whilst you cherish
the scenes of childhood, or love the green,
spot Of your birth--never whilst,you recollectt
when you pressed the idol of your soul to
your bosom; how, your heart jumped II your,
breast, like a rat in an empty barrel. There
is harmony, and friendship, and love, in. all
nature; in every thing tha, greets the senses
on the wide world--in every blade Of gIass--t
in every green thing under heaven. We, see
it in the lurid blaze oSthe lightning; and the
tail ofthe FREELY. We hear it in tho ripping
stream, and the wild, profound, eternal, bass,
of the great ocean-in. every noise from the
smallest, perceptible by the ali, to the coarse
thunde1-voice, Of God in the sky,. without it
the world would be dull, monotonous, hateful,
worldwide desert without a single green
spot, big enoughto pasture goose There
is love in the zephyr, ass Il leaves the fevered
brow. with its breath sweet as the gales Of
Eden, and softas the CHI eek Of the maiden
that has only felt the delightful breezesof'
le SUNNI ers. Now il whispers 70 the ear in
tones sweet as an Eollan harp p--and anon in .
voice touching as The, wall Of p broken
heart. We hear it in the glad songs of,theeI
birds; and borne upon the car ofimsggipation,
we can listen to itas it rings forth from tho !,
silver harps Of the redeemed. i burns In the
bosom Of God--it glories in the breast,ofy
Angcls-and warma the heart of man, So
mnte II he DOW In