Daily intelligencer. [volume] (Wheeling, Va. [W. Va.]) 1859-1865, 1861-03-18

S4uIultcu ~ ueT throughout tue trying
ordeal through which she has passed in
prosecuting it to successful and triumph
ant conclusion, demonstrated long ago that
she was nerved rather by sense of honor
and an undying devotion to the memory
of her mother, than by desire to gain
possession of the princely wealth to which
the decision entities her
We publish very interesting aud ro-
mantle article about the heroine, on our
first page, this morning.
Is THERE to be no end to all this bruit of
war and trouble2 Is there TO be no ccs-
satiou of ceaseless anxiety, no unbending
from the tcuse-strung vigilance of watch
ing for the death struggle OF peace and
liberty? allow long, ., how long" must
the heart be panied and the soul sickened
with the rumors that day by day fall upon
unwilling ears, and hang like lcaden clogs
upon the springs of throbBing hearts
Must these be always, or perhaps worse
than these? No days delights, nor nights
sweet slumbers; no gentleness nor lowell
ness in dreams, but only 'grim visaged"
frOwns no joys nor hOpefulness in our
waking hours. No time to indulge sad
sweet memories; no heart to make cx-
cursions after fanctCd bliss in the enchant-
ed dominiOns of the future. Nothing, day
after day, but the unfecling news, the cold
rehash Of "GrAdgrind's facts" the exhibit
tion of hrNrtlessness, fraud, deceit aud
ambition. And thus the days go by ''ltke
sorrows DER the heart and the towering
hours of night bring no healing on their
wings.
The seasons wax and wane, but men
change not. The winter has come and
gone without its accustomed festivities,
and has hidden us curt farewell like an
ill-treated guest, The spring, which we
used, in chubby boyhood, to sit on IL bench
and read about in Cobb. as beautiful
aud cheerful maiden, whose approach
spread gladness, and whose breath awoke
the early flowers, seems this time to prom
Use no freshness of spirit, no awakening of
pretty datFOdils and blue eyed violcts in
long dormant hearts. The continual drop
pings of hard realities are petrifying the
warm instincts of our nature. We are
growing cold and matter of fact, and need
something to restore u healthrul tone TO
the inner ideal vitality, which lives in
communion with the charms of Nature,
and with human affections. 1t will not be
long till Dame Nature will invite us to her
out door levecs. ~ few days of clustering
March, n few more of April showers and
sunshine, and the earth will put on her
livery She will spread her carpet of
flowers, set in verdNnt sod, and will
cover her furniture with dress of lincoln
green. The winds will dry up the super
abundant moisture, and the sun infuse a
genial life into the now colo clods. Then
the minHics and chubs in the creeks and
brooks will begin to ''bite,' aud the little
urchins, with pin hooks and sewing thread
lines, with helpless worms impaled, will
CndcNvor TO en,tre tue fiuuy deuizeus Of
the still waters from their natural element,
and with bare head and trowsers rolled
up, squatting ON rock and bank along the
Silvcry floods, will, to the extent of their
capacities, play mimic Isaac Nations
Aud then the urchins of larger growth
will "H"e to the mountains of Hepsidam, =
to FISH for trout in the quiet pools
of the mountain streams, with more or
less snccess-genernlIy less, getting no
bites, except under their tiles, and
making no rise except in the scale
of heal,hCul vigor. Aud then the tour
lists will begin to peregrinate, spend
ing their own to see the lands of others
The artists, too. will seek the tnvorite
hauuts where nature displays her lavish
beauties, and while all the working world
presses on and crops Written unto the har-
vest, the thinking world. the literary and
the stndious, relaxes with the genial sea-
son and unbeuds the long strung bow
Then comes the happy harvest, with the
anniversary of that Day. which witnessed
the Cementing of the Union and Iudspen.
dence that arc about being sundered Nv
the tire Of passion and ambition. The
harvest moon, with its ptcuics and long
moonlight evenings, With their stolen in.
terviews under the shadowy syramores, and
prOtraeted partings at the gate. Then the
autumn with its golden fruits, its qarnered
treasures, its GROWING gsOries of a plense-
Gus season; its merry ,aakings aud happy
reunions, all over the land.
-l'this Dot world soonrh 'arthsss"
Is i, not enough that the rolling year