The Camden weekly journal. [volume] (Camden, South-Carolina) 1853-1861, 1853-09-13
Misleltanrors.
WHY LEFT THE ANVIL.
BY ELIHU BCR3I.T.

up the Quill, as member of your pr, fessiol.
/ win be honest now, and tell you the whole
story. Twas transported from the anvil to the
editors chair by the genius of machinery. DO
not smile, friends, it was even so. had stood
and looked for hours on those thoughllcss iron
inteilects, those iron fingered, sober, supple au-
tomatolis as they caught up a bale of cotton
ndtwirled It in the twinkEng of an eye into
vast whirlpool Of whizzing shreds, and laid at
my feet in folds Of snow white cloth. ready for
the of ourmost Holuptuous antpodes. They
we're wonderful things, those looms and spin
dies but. they could not spin thoughts; ; there
was no attribute Of Divinity in them, and adj
1nired them, nothing more. They were .exces-
siyely CURIOUS, butt could estimate the whole
compass of their doings and destiny in finger
power; SO came away and left, :sem sllpnihg
cotton. y -. 80. -. =. 4.
Z One day was tuning my anvil beleatil a hot
iron, and busy with the thought that there was.
as much Intellectual philosophy m my hammer
as in any Of the enginery a going IN modern
times, when most unearlhly screaming pierced
en1y.ears-; / stepped to the door. and there it
was, the great Iron Horse! Yes, he e'had come,
looking for all the world like the great Dragon
we read Of in Scripture, harnessed to halfa living
world, and just landed ON the earth, where he
stood braying in surprise and Indignation at the;
abase uses" to which lie had been turned. i
saw the array of human beings gliding with the
velocity of wind over the iron track, aud droves
of cattle in their stables travelling at the rate of
twenty miles an hour, towards The city slaughter
house. 1t was wonderful. The little busy bee
winged machinery of the cotton factory dwin'
dledsinto insiglifcance. before At. Monstrous
beast Of passage and burden it, devoured the
Intervening distance, and welded the cities to-
eether! But for its furnace heart aud iron
sinews, it was nothing but a beast, an enormous
aggrayation of-horse power. And L went
back to the forge with all unimpaired reverence
for the intellectual philosophy of my hammer:
Passing along the street one afternoon: heard
a noise in an old building as of some one putting
a pair of bellows. So wuhout1more ado step
ned in, and there in corner of a room, / saw
The chefd'euyre of the machinery that ever has
been invented since the birth of eTubal Cam. In
its construction it was as simple and unassumlng
as cheese-press 1t went with a iever-wItis
a lever longer, stronger than that with which
Archimedes promised to uplft the world.
:. III is printing press" said boy standing
BY the ink trough, with a cueless turban OF
brown paper on his head. -
"a printing press? what do you print" |
asked. -s,
"Print3" said the boy, staring at me doubtful
y, "why we print thoughts" >
"Print thoughts :" slowly repeated after
him, and we stood looking for a moment at
each other in mutual admiration; he in the abb
sence of an idea, and in the pursuit of one
But locked at him the hardest and he left an
other ink mark on his forehead, from a pathetic
motion OF bis, hand to quicken bis apprehension
ofmy meaning. .~ ~
"Why yes" he reiterated, in a tone Of forced
confidence, as if wasting an idea, which, though
having been current a hundred years, might
still be counterfeit, for all he could show on the
spot, "we print thoughts to be sure"
,.sBut, my boy" asked in honest soberness,
"what are thoughts, and how can you get hold
of them to print them"
Thoughts are what come out of peoples
minds" be replied.
sGet hold of them, indeed" Why minds
amt nothing you can get hold Of, nor thoughts
either. All the minds that ever thought, and
all the thoughts that minds ever made, wouldn't
make bali as big as your fist. Minds, they
say, are just like air; you can't see them; they
don't make any noise, nor have any color; they
don't weigh any thing. Bill Deepcut, the sex-
ton, says, that man weighs just as much when
his mind is gone out Of him, as he did before
No sir, all the minds that ever lived wouldn't
weigh an ounce troy"
-"Then how do you print thought 7" lthen
asked. "If minds are thin air, antthoughts are
thinner still, aud nake no noise, and have no
substance, shade or color, and are like the winds,
and move like the winds, any where in mo.
ment; sometimes in heaven, and sometimes on
earth, and in the water under the earth; how
can you get hold of them; how can you see them
when they are caught and show them to 9TH
ers?' s,- "a, .H...--
Ezekiers eyes grew luminous with a new idea,
and pushing his ink-roller across the metallic
page of the newspaper, he replied, "Thoughts
work and talk in things what make tracks; and
we make them tracks, and stamp them on paper
or iron, wood or stone, or what not. That is the
way we print thoughts. Don't you under
standT
The pressman let 90 the lever, and looked in
terrogatingly at Ezekiel, beginning at the patch
on his stringless brogans, and following up with
his eyes to the top of the boys brown paper bun
cap. Ezekiel comprehended the felicity OF his
illustration, and wiping his hands on his tow
apron, gradually assnmad an attitude OF earnest
exposition. gave him an encouraging wink
and so he went on.