Grand River times. [volume] (Grand Haven, Mich.) 1851-18??, 1852-04-28
For the Grand River Times.
AN ECHO

buried my neart IL neart ever nad, WIN
her loved; buried too every human feeling,
and almost every human action. lost such
feelings then, and since, have not heard the
voice of friendship; neither do | wish to hear
it. look down on all around, and wonder why
they, shun me. Then think knowledge of
myself is wanting. Is not my form human (?
what my Maker made it? Why then do many
start, as does the schoolboy in the tents Of
beasts for exhibition, when the hyena raises its
bristled back and hiss forth its unbridled venom.
Am fend then! Perhaps | am; if human
kind are right, surely am. For almost all are
unlike me, or am unlike them. A fiend yes,
l must be, for have called the aid of fends !;
what but fiend would stoop to help me if I'm
wrong; and if I'm right, they sure would not.
There must be but one opinion that is ours,
one will and that is ours. o, for whip of
scorpions to lash the rascas round the world"
unless they yield to our dictation. Our, | said !;
l, here, is our, as our is often |. am not Gle
gions," but more than one. have strong aid.
There are those that lend helping hand, clad in
garments that i'll become them, who speak to
me the medium" and as did the servant of
old Balam, proclaim the message | buried
there my heart. If they have buried theirs who
help me- know not when or where, or whether
hearts were ever theirs, know not. If they
possess human soul, do. Yet their acts do
not portray it. 1t sure must be of little mo-
ment, too Insignificant to elicit much attention,
and all the care required will be like that be-
slowed on beasts and reptiles. | surely have
the power of recollection left. can even now
hear, though far away in remembrance, the thrill
ing music of the cider mill. How oft in ecstacy
have sat and listened to its heavenly music,
and drank its sweets until swallowed up by its
happy influence, and surrounding objects joined
me in transports Of JOY and gladness. The for
est danced reel, the sun jig, the stars crossed
over right and left, the moon went down the
middle, and earth too seemed to balance up
ward to share the recreation. Delicious seasons
those; often try for their return. No modern
music is half so sweet to me. But recollection
does not prove a soul. The OWL the hawk and
raven recollect where they feed. They have
not hearts! Perhaps l never had one but in
its stead my Maker gave me what he gave the
hawk and raven.
Thus do | oloquize-moodily and msera-
bly,. But I'll arise and shake off the filth gath.
ering round me, and return to deeds of man.
hood, from where have wandered. I'll have an
aim hereafter. My hopes, though blasted, will
return in all their freshness if encouraged
Crushed feelings yet may sprout and grow, and
for aught know bring forth small fruit abund.
antly. I'll not despise the day of small things
though in wooden vessel it is handed me-
I'll not make use of others "paws" to stir the
"coals" for me. I'll cast aside my scavengers
and do "my dirty work" myself I'll tell them
not to scorn their friends or bite the hand that
feeds them. I'll strip the garment from the
wolf, and show him naked in his lair I'll tell
him when few more years have made their
tally on his brow, he then will feel too young
to fill the post Of censor, his prowling spirit
would feign assume.
have now done with Janus dealing.