Fremont journal. [volume] (Fremont, Sandusky County [Ohio]) 1853-1866, 1856-06-20

RURAL SCENES AND PLEASURES.

est, and most intelligent characters upon the
broad bosom of the liberal earth; in green
est leaves, in richest fruits, in beguiling and
delicate flowers. How much has the Gre
1ToR done for man! He has given him
home and surrounded it with all the objects
of sense and sentiment, which are tosupply
his physical and moral necessities. Birds
sing in the boughs above him, odors scent
the air, and fruits cover the earth with a
glory to which that of Solomon in all his
magnifcence, was vain and valuless. To
His hand we owe these fair groves-these
ranks Of majestic trees-these deep forests
these broad plains covered with verdure
--the mighty flood and dark flowing river.
fertilizing the soil, winding through and
beautifying nature with the loyliest inequal-
tiles.
Ungrateful man oftimes forgets the source
of all his blessings. How kind and benev-
olent was He to dedicate this great planta-
ton to the uses of the human family He
prepared mans home-supplied it with re-
sources-adorned it with every variety of
fruit and flower, and, cheekered with abund-
ance man is conducted within its pleasant
limits, and ordained under the very eye and
sanction of heaven. O! how beautiful is
earthl Its groves are instinct with life and
purity, and the blessed stars rise at night,
like jewels in the distance, to keep watch
over the consecrated interests OF man!
The elements mould our minds-loeali-
ties shape our souls. The great wide sea
makes the great-hearted sailor-the free
mountain air makes the liberty-loving noun
taineer. In the straight-streeted town we
grow pretty, prim and precise-in the wide,
open prairie we grow neglectful of personal
appearances. We wander forth amid rocks
and glens, by the brooklet's brink and by
the mighty rivers side, diyested Of all tho'ts
Of self; but absorbed in the inimitable scene
before us. To him who wanders forth
through Natures labratory, an ardent en-
thusiasm kindles along each fibre of his an
imated being; while the beaming eloquent
look of his soul-lit countenance is anunmis-
taxable exponent of the pleasureabIe emo
ti1uS of that gifted soul.
This seclusion is the home of thought
There IS little to interrupt the continuity of
reflection or to disturb the meanderings of
moditation-thought can change to dream
and dream to thought as quickly as the
light changes to night, and the darkness
wakes to day. Many things conspire to in
stmct us in the country, if we will but listen
to their teachings-the great, tall trees that
stand up from age to age in their quiet pa
tient strength, mingliDg with each other with
such seeming love, reprove our pevishness
and puny buster in an eloquent language.
The brothers of the forest family, the oak,
ash, elm, maple, beach and many others,
growing side by side, interlacing their roots,
interlocking their arms, INTERVIEWING their
branches, while they live all on the com
mon breast of their mother earth, might
well shame our individual antipathies an
ethnie prejudices.
There is much to please in unsubdued
nature, but natures children are sometimes
slow TO learn the lessons taught by their
cheerful, genial mother Men can be igno-
rent in the country. Although God has
written the great book of nature with such
skill, yet to one man the forest is only so
much fence and fuel, while another exclaims
in ecstacy,
"There is pleasure in the pathlcss poodse"
One man measures the earth in acres
another metes it out in lanscapes. One as
sesses the value of the rocks, the soil and
the groves, as the basis ofsale or taxation;
another,
By some secret gift of soul eye,
In every place beneath the smiling SUM-
Sees where the hidden springs ofpIeasure lie."
1t is this last and highest Interpretation of
nature that purifes and ennobles the soul,
and makes life in the country joy and
blessing.
Twas born in the country. By the banks of
Casanova Lake spent my early years.
Often at sunset have l stood on the beach,
while in the dim distance rose the domes of
the city, and the booming bell spoke with
its deep toned voice to my heart; the lofty
steeples lifting themselves into the soft light
of the evening sky, while below slumbered
the Lake, enshrining in its pure bosom the
subdued splendors of the mirrored heaven.
With emotions that recall the quick, Joy
Gus, radiant beams of boyhood, I reflect -
and every time 1 saunter forth into ro-
mantle, rural place it speaks to emotions by
a thousand affectionate remembrances.
ORLANDO.
Woodville, June 9th, 1856.
The Festival of Song closed in Cincinna-