The Athens post. [volume] (Athens, Tenn.) 1848-1917, 1854-10-27
THE SECRET OF IT.

Let him who searches for tie secret of our
success and greatness, as people, look
among our hills and valleys, and behold it in
the intelligence, industry, and consequent in
dependence that sigualize every condition of
life, from the cheerful, hard-handed yeoman
guiding his plow, and the swarthy artizan at
his bench and forge fire, to the merchant
prince, whose "white sails of commerce" rus
tie on every ocean. There lies the secret of
Americas greatness, the more noble and glo.
rious, since hef children commenced their
life and nation in n wilderness, with only the
exile's inheritance, poverty, suffering and dam
ger before them. Yes, thank God they
started with little more-they had faith,
hope and endurance, and hence the mighty
transformation they have wrought, making
them in their sefy;youth the nicdel and mir
acle of nations
1t snot in armies and nayics, "strong walls
and moated battlements" that our hope,
strength and safety lie; our prestige as a
people, is cast upon higher principle than
physical force, though our armies and navies
have answered, and we trust ever will an
swer, for themselves, when the nation is as
sailed. Freedom lies at the bottom of our
greatncss-its palladium the spirit which
sought, and the integrity which maintains it,
and its Acropolis, the glorious institutions
warmed into life by its fire. Our march has
been one of moral and intellectual force, n
home growth and triumph, though our name
has been written by art, science, invention
and enterprise, upon the record of nations,
wherever the foot of travel or the wheels of
commerce could reach. We have put forth
and wherever the eye looks, from the ST.
Lawrence to the Detas of the Mississippi, or
from the Atlantic TO the Pacific, it beholds
our prosperity.
We are great on the right rincipe-great
in and of ourselves. Great, because we can
govern, feed and clothe ourselves, and keep n
surplus in the granary, and in land and cot
tage room for nations that ask our charity
abroad, or exiles who seek, and do not abuse
our hospitality, at home. The splendor Of
America arises altogether from the conquest
the American people have made over their
soil, their circumstances and themselves; tri.
umphing thus, there is no enemy too strong
for them-they are capable Of any conquest.
Self-conquest, too, has been double one
with us; for, achieving greatness within our
selves, we have sent the influence of exam
pie and ideas abroad, to work silently and
nightly for us in all the world.
Yes, there lies the secret of our success
and greatness, among our hills and valleys
We have no castles with their hammered keeps
to answer for the peace and plenty which
pervades the nation. Anarchy and disorder
are kept aloof by no serried ranks save ranks
of quiet people armed with simplicity, intel
igence and truth. Our only walls and bat
Elements are strong, true hearts, bound to-
gether by common faith in Freedom and
God, and beating in unison through the cities
thronging our oceans, bays and river forks;
the villages that glisten like clusters of jew
els over our boundless landscape, and the
white cottage crowning our green farm'helds
like bouquets of domestic bliss. While
these cities, villages and cottages exist, ami
mated by the same strong, true heart, and
and school.houses, scarcely out of sight OF
each other, and churches smiling from spire
to spire, continue to intersect and encircle
the land, diifusing their light and blessing to
all, we shall need no Gordon of steel or stone
to uphold our greatness and glory.
OF The Toledo Blade tells a good story
of n Mrs. Mullane, who was taken with the
cholera and died in six hours, leaving an
empty whisky bottle at the head of her bed.
Her relatives and particular friends held
"wake" over the body Matters went on
very well; but at midnight, when the fun
grew fast and furious suddenly there came
tapping on the coffin lid. Then the hairs OF
each individual stuck out as stiff MS wires.
The watchers were breathless; but the voice
of the dead broke out shrili and angrily:
"Pat! ye baste git over t'yer your own side
of the bed There's niver bit OF room tor
ia l.. LII, al