Weekly Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1853-1861, 1855-06-14
Communicated

WILLIS talks POLITICALLY of the uncut leaves
of the mind, and gives us occasional read
lnSs from the bottom of the pages. 1t is
with some such feeling that send YOU clip
pings from old letters which have not the
heart to altogether destroy. They are with
out connection, and of little or no merit in
themselves, but if you think them worthy Of
place in yOur daily mosaic work. I can
make a private collection for my own salts
faction. You see that | am selfish in this
50 selfish that were it not for my contempt
Of personalities, should be tempted to send
you whole letters for publication / belong
to the common class of individuals who have
no right to attention, and it has always seemed /
to me in bad taste for the great to live upon
the house-tops. Even GEORGE SANDS, YOU
know, objected to having her daily life re-
ported. Her biographer very coolly rejoined
that he knew that there was little corner in
every woraan's heart that she did not wish
exposed but celebrities lived in transparent
houses, and must expect to pay the penalty
of greatness.
What a blessed lapse of time it was that
swallowed up the " memoirs - of HOMER and
SHAKESPEARE The gods have no vouth and
we cannot bear to know that those we have
exalted as such, had the common wants and
| infrmities of human nature with like suffer-
| lngs and-short comings of ourselves | have
allowed my pen to run widely estray from
its purpose The first letter | take up, was
written on the day CLAY's funeral honos
were observed in Baltimore,-written bv a
! friend who has also finished the weary march
Of life.
"The guardian spirit of CLAY seems 10
mourn in every toll of the bell, in every peal
of the muffled drum, and tremble of the sa-
bic pennOn. Even the day seems half shad-
owed in grief, half frightened with the lin
geringof his glory. The scene reminds me
of the poet where he tells how the mourners
60 about the street, as though the shadow of
Death rested upon them. Oh! is it not a
fearful truth, when we realize it, that the
heart which beat so late is still-the voice
that was even now ringing in our ears is
hushed and the hand whose grasp was so
eloquent with feeling is nerveless and cold
Nor breezy woods, nor birds, nor rusiling cous,.
Nor slophig hills with meadows green betwees.
Natures sweet balm can cure, but bids Us mosrn,
Her sunny joys but make shadows
As deeper gioom-as night from out the lghtnng's
gleam
lam but i'll at these numbers, for words
seem TO mock at what | wish to say. They
: are but bones-dead and ,iry-of the feel
ngs which bid them live
There is no such thing as inspiration now
a-days-whether there ever was is ques-
ton for Others to determine. For my part
think nothing good or great can be accom-
plished without hard labor"
have seen Mrs. SMITH again. She is a
glorious woman. | have met magnificent
women--some, one could not look steadily
p at, they were 20 beautiful but she realizes
my conception of perfect woman. not ex
actly after the WORDSWORTH style, more afte
the manner of SCHILLER. Honored bt
: woman" One can always imagine her NOV.
ing about with that regal air as if she wer,
= living on the mama of her own high thoughts
And such a voice. | never expect to hea
anything again so exquisite. Kept thinkin.
e of SHELLEY's lines to n sky-lark:
r Sound OF vernal showers
On the twnkling grass
i Rain-awakened flowers,
: All that
Joyous, and clear snd fresh, Thy music doth surpsss
9 There is very little reformation, at least ST
: far as We know, for the last six thousanC
o years. Mems passions burn out and the shell
exhibits cold dead appearance, which W,
n are pleased to call reformation-but tn
q change of the individual of his nature is rar
f indeed. Man will be Tomorrow what he i
4 to-day, and was many days before
p GO from me- vet feel that | shall stand
. HencefOrward in thy shadow. Never move
II Alone upon.the threshold Of my door
I OF individual life, shail command
The of my soul, nor lin my hand
Serenely In the sunshine before
8 Thy touch upon the palm. The pidesf land
Doom takes TO part as, feGUtS thy heart M
), UIth pulses which bear double. Whaf lido
.4ad NAat dram ineiHdes thee, as the soiHe
o -Masf taste OF sfs orR grapes And rheH sue
God for myself He h Grs that mans Of thine
, And sees rithin my eyes the tears Of fpO.