The Ottawa free trader. [volume] (Ottawa, Ill.) 1843-1916, 1845-05-16
ron TuE OTTAWA FREE TRADER.
Our National Literature.

Onf Nutouni tJIcratutc.
History but records the tragic truth. that
nations like men have their ages-elas,c
youth, vigorous manhood, decriptude.
and final dissolution; that progressive
change and mortality are stamped on the
brow of all created things; that maturity
is not found in youth, or, if found, it can
be but sckly, fading precocity.
Circumstance gives vital action to the
intellect and passions. This is the power
that wakes the slumbcring energies of
MIND TO greatness and perfection If our
country cannot yet successfully vie with
the more mature nations of the old world
in literature, she may plead her youth
and the circumstances which have hither-
TO directed her attention to other subjects.
while she feels conscious of The noble ma
,erials which her early history affords, and
of mind that, feeling a giants powers
in infancy, will, at maturity, deveope it.
self to the admiration of all.
Far in the distance as the human eve
can reach, are dimly seen mountains,
which are shrouded in msls and darkness.
Thence, as from fountain, flows stream
through our vale, clothing II with springs
green robe, GROWING it with autumn's
lrults-and bears on lis bosom the luXu-
rles Of another cline. Those represen,
the past, and this the stream of history,
that brings back, full freighted with the
monuments Of geulus, the relics Of ancient
worth and greatness.
Men look back with reverence upon
antiquity. Antiquity There is a divi-
nifty in the word. 1t has a charm for the
cart rouses conscious pride and rapture
in the heart. To the past age men return
10 live on unreal eXistence-lo hold con-
verse with ancient and superior beings.
As hope induces belief and affection fat
tiers reality, beloved ancestry are clothed
with divinity. Their whole life and cir
cumstances arc seen in microscopic vision.
The common event swells to the crisis
that sways the fate of empire. Deiles
and mnistering spirits are round about
| N'N'H w 5uiuC anu piOItCt'
The past is eloquent. The soldier, as
he walks amid its relics and the tombs Of
his ancestors, hears the more than lrum-
pet-voce Of their sufIerugs and worth,
while he invokes their spirit TO warm his
heart with like devotion. 1t teaches the
statesman maxims of true wisdom. 1t
flies the poet with deeper inspiration than
is drawn from the sacred summit of Par
nassus, or the intoxicating draught Of
| IIelicon.
The past is the world of poetry. This,
though il be the lofliest sentiment Of the
soul, and be thought to parake Of divini-
ly-lhough it be elevated above our com.
mon llfe-speak in rapturous language,
and address our noble passions; yet it de-
lights 10 colhe itself in mystery.
There is time when the common
mind, shrouded in ignorance, filled with
marvel and credulity, turns in cold disgust
from reasons tanner walks, and hears with
rapture the more than syrcn voice of su
persllion. She tells of fairy land that
spirits are seen in the changing shadow of
the mountain mist; that they dance on
the meadow at twilight hour that demons
ride the tempes,uons storm and smile al
the wreck they make of human hope, and
weigh down with heavy doom the soul of
conscious wickedncss tina, the ghosts of
the dead, at midnight hour, break from
their sepulchral walls; that their fright
lul, haggard forms fit in solitary gloom
through the bowers and haunts of youth !;
that their means are heard in the sound.
ing pine and dashing waterfall, their
whispers in the gentle vesper's breath.
TO the eye Of superstition, the meteor
that burns across the heavens is porlent-
Gus, and the crested flames of the north
ern Aurora appear as spectral warriors in
'"ll panoply of arms, waglng fierce con-
tests in heaven-prescieat signals Of a
direfuI future.
Such is the age of poetry. 1t scorns
the bright beams of science, that wilher
the laurel wreath. Its material is the
event Of darker age, hallowed by time,
enlarged by tradition, and magnifed by
the eye OF the Imagination.
Like Millions grsly king, that, a. the
touch of lthuriel's spear, assumed his
own superior majesty, the simple momen.
to of the past, touched by the poets finger,
sweils TO grandeur and subimlly. Mar.
vel and creduli,y he cherishes, ill, as in
Grecian song, there is a deity in eve.
~ thing. Millions of invisible spirits
+ that dwell in mountain, grove, and stream