The Literary echo, and Pawcatuck advertiser. [volume] (Westerly, R.I.) 1851-1854, 1853-12-22

desired object, the mind, from anticipa
ton and its own activity, may be pleas.
antly excited. But when the object is
gained, and mental activity declines,
there succeeds a state of oppressive dis
quietude. Selfshness, like the horse
leech S daughter, forever cries, fGive,
give" and forever remains unsatisied
In the possession of wealth, Edward
j fully believed happiness was to be
found. In seeking to gain wealth, he
had thought little of the interests Of 9th
ers. Not that he recklessly trampled on
his neighbors' rights, or wrested from
the weak what was lawfully their own
His mercantile pride--honor he would
have called it--prevented such lapseS
from integrity. But, as he moved on.
ward, with something like giant strides
conscious of his own strength, he had nc
sympathy for the less fortunate, and new
er once paused to lift fallen one, or to
aid feeble toiler on the way of life,
No generous principles belonged to the
code of ethics by which he was governed
Benevolence he accounted weakness,
and care for others interests the folly Of
a class, less to be commended than cen
sured. "Let every man mind his own
business, and every man take care of
HIMSELF" he would sometimes say.
"Help yourself" is the worlds best mot
to. This constant preaching up of be-
nrvolence and humanity only makes
idiers and dependants."
Edward j fully acted out his
principles. And so, for future enjoy
ment, he had only laid up wealth. In
all his business lite, there was not sin
gle green spot watered by the tears of
bsnevolence, or warmed by the sunshine
of gratitude, back to which thought could
90, and find delight in the remember
ance All was dull, dead blank of
money getting, the recollection of which
gave more pain than pleasure.
No wonder that, after the excitement
of removal, and the interested state of
mind attendant upon the fitting up of a
new home, the mind of Edward j
receded again to its state of disquietude,
or that the old shadows deepened once
more on his brow.
How broadly contrasted was the state
ly mansion he occupied with the humble
cottage in which his brother resided,
and to which, in self-wsariness, he often
repaired. Yet so selfshly did he love
his own, that never an impulse of gen.
erosity towards this brother stirred, even
for moment, the dead surface of hu-
manity's waters lying stagnant in his bo-
som. If he thought of his humble cir
cumstances at all, it was with something
of shame that one so nearly related,
should occupy so low position.
One morning, Edward called upon
William j, and with unusal anima-
ton, said
81 have just made valuable discov-
cry"
"Ah! What is it," enquired his
brother.
"You know the beautiful side slope of
land just beyond my meadow"
"Where Morgan livesi" said William.
eyes. There are some ten acres, fine
ly situated, exceedingly fertile, and in a
high state of cultivation"
"Welli" William looked, enquiringly,
at his brother.
"That piece of ground belongs, un-
questionably, to my estate"
"What!" The brother was startled at
this announcement; for he saw purpose
in Edwards mind to claim it as his own,
If he could prove that the right referred
10 did actauly exist.
That piece of ground is mine"
"Why do you say so'"
cit originally belonged to the proper
" | have purchased"
81 knew it did. But Morgan bought
I from the former owner more than IF
.oen years ago."
"But never met his payments, and
never got full title"
"How do you know that"
81 have the information from good au-
thority-the best l presume, in the
,ounty."
UErop, uboc,sv