The Kalida venture. [volume] (Kalida, Ohio) 1841-1865, 1845-04-04
Choice Passages.
BY L. y. L


All! the past is the true source Of conf
dence. We must recollect together before
we can confide.
The love which was restrained for the liv-
ing defes control when aroused for the
dead.
The living console themselves by the ho-
nors which they pay to the dead; aud yet
this selEdeceit is not all in vain. Every feel
ing that looks to the future elevates human
nature; for life is never so low or so little
as when il concentrates itself on the present.
The miserable wants, the small desires! and
the petty pleasures Of daily existence have
nothing in common with those mighty
dreams which, looking forward for uction
and actions reward, redeem the earth over
y which they walk with steps like those of an
angel, beneath which, spring up glorious and
immortal flowers. The Imagination is mans
noblesi and mos. spiritual faculty; and that
ever dwells OIL the to-come.
"Whom the gods love die young" is one
Of the truths taught by the old Greek poets
---ihoso poets half sage, half seer. And
methinks, that though teals are shed abun-
dainty when the coffin-lid presses down some
fair and bright head, we were wiser did we
keep those tears for the living. Let the
young perish in their hour of promise-how
much will they be spared!-passion, tha,
kindles but 10 consume the heart, and leaves
vacancy or regret, ruin or desert; amb.
ton, that only reaches lis goal TO find it
worthless when gained, or but the starting
place for another feverish race, doomed
again to end in disappointment; enemies
that cross us at every step, friends that de-
ceive-and what friends do not?-the blight
ed hopes, the imbttered feeling, the wasted
powers, the remorse, and the despair--all
these are spared by the merciful, the early
grave.
1t is n painful thing to think how the pu-
rest and dearest tie that can exist-that
which binds the parent 10 the child; and
the child TO the PARENTS doomed TO sever
by the very course of nature; that new and
vivid emotion will inevitably enter the heart
of youth-and before that emotion, how
cold and faint seems all that was held rre-
cious before! And yeiso in exircably blend
cd are happiness and sorrow on earth, that
fortunate, thrice fortunate, are they who have
such ties to sever.
The memory of what others have suffered
makes US tremblc for ourselves.
There is something in human nature that
shrinks from any great chaage, even though
that change be for the better Alas! all ex-
periencc shows us how little dare we trust
our fate.
It is said that the name of love is often
taken in vain, compelled to stand godfather
TO feelings with which he has nothing TO do.
and made answerable for all the faults and
folies which interest, vanity, and idlcness
commit while masquerading under such SEM
blance. Wit is just as much put upon
blamed for thousand impertinences over
which it would not have held for moment
its gliitering shield; it is like the radiant fai-
ry doomed TO wander over earth, concealed
and transformed, and only allowed on rare
occasions TO shine forth in its true and spark
ling form. II is well that wits an mpalpa-
BILE and ethereal substance, or it must long
since have evaporated in indignation at that
peculiarly wretched and mistaken race, lis
imtators.
Ofall The melancholy days consecrated 10
the memory of the dead, perhaps the most
mournful-the one jarring most Immediately
by strong contrast with its predecessors-is
the day when the coffin has been carried
from the house, and the light of heaven ad-
mitted through the recently darkened win
dows. Every object looks so unfamiliar
We have become accustomed to the dim at
mosphere and the long shadows,-they seem
ed TO sympathize with us. Now, the cheer
ful sun looks in mockingly; we rejoice not
in the face of day; it brings not hope, but
memory TO our minds; and we only watch
the gladdenng beams to think that they are
shining on the narrow grave.