The Planters' banner. [volume] (Franklin, Attakapas Co., Lou.) 1849-1872, 1853-06-02

LOCK MIN from our sight, and search
after difference between him and The
pauper at his side. So, it is done! Al
me! what an appalling spectacle hi
remains present to the astonished sight
A ghastly skeleton is all that is left, anc
even that cannot be recognized to have
belonged to so boastful being See
his bones are beginning 10 crumble
into dust, and then where will be the
proof that he existed on earth? None
none will then be found He will have
returned TO his mother earth, aud his
pride all forgotten.
The clownish ploughman will pass
by his grave unconscious of his great
ness, and whistle his lullaby at the
evening hour. A short space is allotted
to his relics in this solitary ground, and
the same circumference given to the
beggar who slumbers at his side. Miser-
able reflection for the proud man, but
alas! he cannot deny it. There in his
sight sleeps the skull which once was
tllled with as many Utopian dreams as
that which gazes with vacant stare
upon it. Heartrending idea to the proud
man He there views the state TO which
his own frame must be subjected, which
he now thinks is too good almost 10
tread the earth beneath him. Thus
sleeps great Caesar, and thus slumbers
Tarquin the proud. Their pride could
not retrieve their fall, and their boas-
ted superiority could not escape the
yawning jaws of the grave. Death is
no respecier of persons, but devours,
without remorse, his millions at one
meal and Stays youth, beauty, pride and
grandeur, ror casts single glance on
his lndiscrimnate choice. What rivers
of briny tears have swept their course
from the eyes of relatives, for the loss of
their dearest friends. Pride was car
rled away in the overwhelming deIuge,
and Its brother ambition sank at its
side. There is not single day swal-
lowed up in the votex of time that does
not carry with it to the vast labyrinth
of eternity the lives of about eighty
thousand of the human family Where
is pride in this deathly famine! Alas
it is destined 10 fill the famished nav
of death. The brilliant eye, the bloom
ing cheek. and the blushing lips of
beauty, before whom the great and the
grand have bowed down in alteration,
are all destined TO perish in the gloom
of the grave. How strong the admoni-
tlon TO improve the mind, and prepare
it for the enjoyment of supernal felicity
instead of lavishing on the frail body of
dust the CANDY trappings of earthly
vanity, which vanishes into nothing the
moment that death lays his cold hand
on the warm brow of beauty! Thus we
see that pride is unbecoming such frail
and when life comes to con-
clusiqn, we are convinced of its vanity.
Let not the proud critic say, as Vol
taire said of Rousseau, that give virtue
in words. and vice in deeds; for his
own reason will teach him tha, write
the truth, unyarnished with sophistry,
without the embellishments OF false
imagery, and unpoluted by the golden
gloss of fascinating fiction. Go ask the
ask the silent Slumberer
wrapped in his pale cold shroud-go
ask the mighty dead who once swayed
he mighty sceptre of the world, and
At whose nod the millions of mankind
and they shall tell, as with
he voice of inspiration, as with voice
If thunder, the vanity and insigniG-
,ance of all human pride.