The Athens post. [volume] (Athens, Tenn.) 1848-1917, 1858-09-10
WHY LEFT THE ANVIL.
BY ELIHU BURRITT.

the whole story. was transposed sFo:. the
anvil to the editors chair by the genius OF
machinery. Don't smile, friend, it is even so.
had stood and looked for hours on those
thoughtless iron intellects, those iron-fnger-
ed, sober supple automatons, as they caught
up & bale of cotton and twirled it, in the
twinkling of an eye, into a whrlwind Of
whizzing shreds, and laid il at my feet in
folds of snow white cloth, ready for the use
of the most voluptuous. They were won
derfu things, those looms and spndles, but
they could not spin thoughts; tEere was no
attribute of divinity in them, and admired
them, nothing more. They were excessively
curious, but could estimate the whole COM
pass of their being and destiny in finger pow.
err so | went away and left them spinning
cotton.
One day | was tuning my anvil beneath a
hot iron, and busy with the thought that
there was as much intellectual philosophy in
my hammer rs in any enginery agoing in
modern times, when n most unearthly scream
reached my ears; | stepped to the door and
there it wns-the great iron horse. Yes, he
had come, looking for all the world like the
great dragon we have read of in Scripture,
harnessed to half living world, and just
landed on the earth, where he stood braving
with surprise and Indignation ut the "base
use" to which he had been turned. ! saw the
gigantic hexapod move with n power that
made the earth tremble for miles. saw the
army of human beings gliding with the velo-
city of wind over the iron track and droves
of cattle travelling in their stables, at the
rate of twenty miles an hour toward the city
slaughter house. 1t was wonderful. The
little busy-bee winged machinery of the cot
ton factory dwinded into insignifcNnce be-
fore it. Monstrous beast Of passage and bur
den! II devoured the intervening distance,
and welded the cities together! But for its
furnace heat and iron sinews, it was nothing
but beast, nm enormous aggregation of
horse power. And went back to the forge
with unimpared reverence for the intellectual
philosophy of my hammer.
Passing along the street one afternoon, |
heard noise in an old building, as of some
one putting pair of bellows. So, without
more ado, stepped in, and there, in a corner
of a room, saw the chef dGupre Of all ma
chinery that has ever been invented since the
birth of Tubal Cain. In its construction it
was as simple as cheese-presc. 1t went
with lever; with lever stronger than that
with which Archmedes promised to lift the
world.
at is printing press" said boy stand
ing by the ink trough, with n careless turban
of brown paper on his head. ga printing
press!" ! queried musingy to myself. "A
printing press; what do Won prinl!" ! asked.
"Print?" said the boy, staring at me doubt
fully, "why we print thoughts" "Print
hnu 0tO / oil lu taA oft ipn.
we stood looking at each other moment ir
mutual admiration: he in the absence of an
idea, and in pursuit Of one. But looked
at him the hardest, and he left another ink
spot on his forehead, with pathetic motion
of my meaning. "Why, yes," he reiterated
in tone OF forced confidence, as if passing
an idea, which though havirg been current
hundred years, might still be counterfeit, for
all he could show on the spot, tive print
thoughts, to be sure" "But my boy" ask
ed, in an honest soberness, "what are
thoughts, and how can you get hold Of them!"
"Thoughts are what come out Of peoples
minds" he replied. "Get hold Of them, in
deed. Why minds are nothing yon can get
hold of, or thoughts either All the minds
that ever Thought. and all the thoughts that
minds ever made, would not make n ball as
big rs your fist. Minds, they say, are just
like mir; you can't see them; they don't make
any noise, nor have any color; they don't
weigh anything. Bill Deepcut the sexton,
says n man just weighs as much when his
mind has gone out Of him rs he did before.
No, sir; all the minds that ever lived would
not weigh an ounce troy"
"lhen how do you print thoughtsf II
minds are as thin as air, and thoughts nre
still and make no noise, and have no sub
stance, shade, or color, and are like the winds,
and more than the winds, are anywhere in n
moment, sometimes in heaven, and sometimes
in earth, how can you see them when caught,
or show them to others"
Ezekel's eyes grew luminous with n new
idea, and pushing the ink roller proudly
across the metallic pages of the newspaper,
replied: "Thoughts work and walk in things
that make tricks; and we take them tracks
and stamp them on paper, or iron, wood,
stone, or what not. This is the way We print
thoughts. Do you understand"
The pressman let 90 the lever and looked
in!errogalively at Ezekiel, beginning at the
patch on his stringess brogans, and follow
ing up WITH his eye to the top Of the boys
brown paper bluff cap. Ezekiel at once com
pretended the felicity of his Illustration, and,
wiping his hand on his tow apron, gradually
assumed an attitude OF earnest opposition,
gave him an encouraging wink, and so he
went on.
"1houghts make tracks," he continued i'm
pressively, ns If involving a new phase of the
idea by repeating 1t slowly. Seeing we ns-
senied to this proposition ineriringly, he
stepped to the type case with his eve fixed
admonishingiy upon us. "Thoughts make
tracks," he repeated, arranging in his hands n
score or two metal slips; sand with these
here letters we can take the exact impress
sion of every thought that ever went out Of
the heart of human man; and We can print II,
too" giving the mixed form blow OF tri-
umph with his fist; sand we can print it, too,
give us paper enough, till the grent round
earth is bInnketed around with n coverlid Of
thoughts, ms much like the pattern ms two
peas" Ezekiel seemed to grow m inch at
every word, and the brawny pressman look
ed first at him and then at the press with evil
dent astonishment. "ralk about the minds
living forever" exclaimed the boy pointing
at the ground, as IL minds were
lying there incapable of Immortality, until
the printer reached them helping hand;
"why the world is brmful of live, bright, in
dusrious thoughts, which would have been
dead, dend as stone, IL II hadn't been for boys
like me who run ink rollers.
"Immortality indeed why peoples minds"
he continued with his Imagination climbing
into the profanely sublime, "people's minds
would not be immortal if il wasn't for the
printers; at any rnie, in this here planetary
burying ground. We ARE the chaps what
,,.noroctu,a immortalitv foy dend man" he