Portage sentinel. [volume] (Ravenna, Ohio) 1845-1854, 1853-05-04
A Ridiculous Assertion.

!
custom. "-BULwER.
/ Such language will do for Bulwer; he could in
vent no better when he wrote that. He was the
son of safety, the foster-brother of voluptuous
ness. A golden chalce was given him; he dis
| titled dew from the bitterest herbs that grew
ranky along his pathway, and filling his chalice
called it balm. He threw out his poison broad.
cast; sons and daughters; the sunny-haired ane
the white-browed; drank, obi too deeply drank
and-died death too horrible to mention; death
from which virtue fed shrieking.
'sThe deadliest foe to love is not change, but
CUSTOM" We love the being who gave us birth.
The last sweet name upon icy lips is Mother,
mother" Because we grow accustomed to her
gentle voice, do we therefore weary of her who
has made our path to manhood and womanhood as
light and beautiful as was in her power? Is Gus
tom there the deadliest foe to love?
In groups all over the world sit families togeth-
er; the father who has toiled and grown grey; the
matron whose life has been long labor of love;
the youth, the bold boy, the happy-hearted girl,
the son just on the threshold of manhood; the
maiden blooming into rpened beauty. There they
sit, caring for each other, living in each others
love. Mark how sickness enters; seizes the fairest
of the little flock. Look at the chamber where
they have laid her; how still and sheltered how
white the linens; how fresh the cool red flowers
that touch the feverish lips. The table is covered
with delicate porcelain all the vials are put out of
sight, and soft fingers press the flushed brow, and
smoothe back the damp locks, that they may not
lie too heavily against the throbbng temples.
Mark the silence of that household; see the
springing tears when little voices whisper "Min-
ME is sick" Now they glide like angels around
that couch. Carefully the massive door is swung
to when the father steps into the street; the bell
wire is loosened. Why should that father care if a
great shadow with awful portent stands on the
threshold! All her life has been accustomed to
the sweet ones smile; why does his cheek pale
when he returns, hardly daring to breathe, much
less to ask. SIS it we'll with the chld!" Has GUS
tom deadened love!
And why when the last change comes, and the
still plats of the shroud lie upon the little bosom,
do they all weep and moan, so that one would think
their hearts were every one breaking with the sor-
row? They were accustomed to the little one; !;
they knew every pulse of her character, and could
almost divine what her rosy lips opened to say to
them. Why did they not weary with the heart
survey-that sameness of kindness, and twining
of arms, and lisping love-words! Ifit was all so
common, why did they miss her SO!
Because true love never wearies of its objects,
be it mother, father or child, betrothed or welded.
Hand in hand go many couple through long.
long life loving at the first, loving at the last.
One by one the rough places are made smooth;
little defects of character which, alone, neither
would have sought to remedy, are brought into
harmony with the softer traits of the other. Beau
tiful union! who will say, that had reasonable
experience of happiness, that familiarity begets
contempt!
What all passion, the soul demands something
unexpressed, some vague recess to explore or to
marvel upon," says Bulwer. This sublimated
nonsense was written by one who was most
wretched example of connubial woe. Such things
from such sources, strike US as unpleasantly as
the bowling ofa dog on moonlight night. There's
no sense in them.-Oliue Branch.