The Potter journal. [volume] (Coudersport, Pa.) 1857-1872, 1860-08-02


man, His was brilliant and powerful
mind The beauty of his form was only
excelled by his nobleness, integrity, and
moral worth. He was adored by his
friends and relatives, honored by his fel.
low citizens, and respected by all. His
was a bright promise for the future. The
eloquent, the noble, the gifted, and the
true, lies there That mind is in ruins
Pillar after pillar has been undermined
by the subtle stream, until there is scarce.
ly enough left to show the once classic
beauty Of the structure A fortune has
vanished like the morning mist. A love-
ly wife has gone to the grave broker
hearted, with the babe destroyed by a
brutal band, sleeping on her bosom. Her
old father and mother have gone down in
sorrow to their rest. A sister, with a de-
votion which never wavcred, clung to her
only brother, until blow from that broth
er struck her down, and she sits dream
ing lunatic in the asylum. See you no
destruction of property here? The elo-
queuce which thrilled in the Senate Of his
State, and that wisdom which gave dig
nifty to her councils, has been troddcn
down. The orator and the statesman !;
the amiable husband and the upright cit
izen, lives lower than the beast, in the
common drunkery. Every hope IN life is
blasted, and with a mind reeling on the
verge of madness, the poor benighted
wanderer stumbles on to premature and
dishonored grave.
/" Great God how thickly such sketch
es are upon the record of the past. We
ueed not disturb the dust which has long
gathered, or leave our own shores There
was poor Poe; what mind what mine
of wealth to him and to the world of let
ters but destroyed. There was the gift
ed DR.. Lofand There was the warm-
hearted Mcconnell. There was the high
minded Dromgoole, of Virginia, There
but the catalogue is endless. Take the
wealth Of one drunkard's mind, and look
with awe upon its waste, and then, with
the wide grasp Of thought, gather in the
Iinnumerable hosts which have passed from
the fields Of life, and you have destruc-
tion of property, from the contemplation
of which the mind turns shuddering away.
! There is no resurrection from the wide
waste Of ruins. Here are whole temples
of genius, where everything that Is intel
lectuaI and god like in humanity is buried
beneath that lava-tide which has SO long
swept on its course.
AYE, the property Of the mind. Leave
US that, though all else perish Let us
grapplo with poverty and want, but leave
US that Let US struggle with life's deep
est, btterest SORROWS, but leave US that.
Let every friend pass from earth, and We
die away from our kindred; let disease
exhaust the fountains Of life by drops,
but leave US our mind. Even when the
body crumbes away, and the shadows Of
the night of death shut out a brief day Of
life, the mind unbroken looks unmoved
over the material waste, and with a smile
rises to Him who placed it in the tene,
ment Of clay. x
"There is still another reason why l
abhor the rum traffic 1t spares neither
age nor sex. It's trophies are more TO be
dreaded than those at the red mans belt,
snatched from the throbbing brows of in
nocence The system is cruel, merciIeSs-
ly cruel. 1t wars upon the defenceless-
upon women and children. Its most des
olating strife is at the freside. We exc
crate it fer its oowardice, as we'll as its in
justice and cruelty. Those who are new
er seen abroad, and who never lifted u
hand or voice against the seller, are crush
! ed down with remorseless coolneSs. If
men alone were destroyed, without wiring
ing the hearts that are linked with them,
it would not seem SO damnab.e. But why
should Christian government and a
| Christian people war upon the happiness
of the household? Why should woe and
want be carried into our homes Why
should ourmothers, and wives, and daugh-
ters be scourged until they weep drops Of
blood? Why should children be turned
out with no inheritance but orphanagc
and disgrace? Why should the props
and pride of old hearts be snatched away
and broken? Why-in Gods name tell
US in this land Of plenty, where our
! fields groan under the harvests which roll
like golden oceans to the kiss Of the sun
beams, and where an ever-kind Proyi-
dence has scattered his blessings on every
hand, should women and children 90 hun
cry for bread? Why should our sons be
turned out to be drawn into the whirl-
pool of crime, and our daughters to forget
all that's womanly, and sink into vice for
their daily bread +? Is this Ciiristianlike?
Is it like freemen? Why should our
homes be transformed into hells, and the
husba ard father into a demon, TO tor
tture and kill? Why must those whom
] al |, ] r.