Ashtabula weekly telegraph. [volume] (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1853-1873, 1861-06-22
From the Springfield Republican.
RUMINATIONS:
A Series OF Essays upon Human Life.
By TIMOTHY TTTCoMB.
CHATTER X.

have been watching family o! kittens,
engaged in their exquisitely graceful play.
Near them lay their mother, stretched at
her length upon the tagging, taking her
morning nap and warming herself in the
sun She had eaten her breakfast, (pro.
vided by no care of her own, but at my ex-
pense, had seen her little family fed, and
having nothing further to attend to, had
gone off into q doze. What q blessed
freedom from care Think Of family of
four children, with no frocks to be made
for them, no hair to brush, no shoes to
provide, no socks to knit and mend, no
schoolbooks to buy, aud no nurse Think
Of living being with the love of offspring
iu her bosom ard u multitude of marvellous
instincts in her nature, yet knowing nothing
Of God, thinking not of the future, without
a hope or an expectation, or doubt or a
fear, passing straight on to annihilation
At the threshold of this destiny the little
kittens were carelessly playing and they
are doubtless still playing while | write.
They have no lessons to learn, they do not
have TO go Sunday school, they entertain
no peGjudice except against dogs which
occasionally dodge into the yard and
judge by the familiar way in which they
play with their mothers ears and pounce
upon her tail tina they are not in any degree
oppressed by sense of the respect due TO
parent. Cat and kittens will eat aud frolc
and sleep, through their brief life, aud they
will curl up in some dark corner aud die.
Here and there, one of their race, | suppose,
finds brief immortality in a fddle.string,
but as cats are not among those who Idle
with all the music in them" it is doubtful
whether they would care to live their lives
over again in the hands of the ordinary
run of fddlers.
remember that one Of the late Mr.. JOS
eph Meals Charcoal Sketches" he puts
into the mouth of very sad and seedy
Ioafer the expression of wish that he were
| a pig, and a statement of the reasons for
the wish These reasons, as l recall them,
related to the freedom Of the pig from the
peculiar trials and troublesk kof humanity.
Pigs do not have TO work for a living
they undertake no enterprise, and of course
fail in none they eat aud sleep through
period of months, and then come the knife
aud grunt, and that is the last Of them.
Now suppose this thought of Mr. NearS
loafer has been shared by millions of men.
Not that everybody has at some time 10 his
life wished he were pig, but that nearly
everybody who has had his share of the
troubles and responsibilities of life, has look
ed upon simple animal careessness and con-
tent with certain degree of envy. 1t is
not necessary to go among brutes for in.
stances of this animal content. 1t can be
found among men. Who does not know
| bo. ell
will work all day in the field, whistle all
The way homeward, eat hugely of coarse
food, sleep like logs, and take no more in
terst in the great questions which agitate
the most Of US than the pigs they feed, and
that in return, feed them Who has not
sighed as he has seen how easily the simple
wants of certain simple natures are suppli-
ed l remembered an old man who quite
Unexpectedly was drafted into the grand
jury, which sat in the county town less
than ten miles distant from his home and
this was the great event Of his life. He
never tired of talking about it ; (neyer tir.
ed himself, mean, and stranger could
not carry on conversation with him for
five minutes without hearing of something
which occurred when-"I was in Blaketown,
j. IL
Napoleon ever contemplated victory with
the complacent satisfaction that filled my
old friend when he alluded 10 his connection
with "the grand jury" and emphasized the
adjective which magnifed the jury aud
glorifed him.
confess that when l pass through a
rural town, and see the iaborers among
the corn, and the boys driving their cattle,
and the girls busy in the dairies, and life
passing away quietly, cannot avoid q
twinge Of regret that it would be impossible
for me to be content with the kind of life
that see around me, especially as know
that there is one kind fpleasure--uegatiye
perhaps, rather than positive-which that
kind Of life enjoys, and in which can never |
share. Relief from great responsibilities,
aud conlentment with humble clothing.
humble fare, humble society, humble aims
and ambitions, humble means and humble
labors-ah how many weary, overloaded
men--hoW many disappointed hearts-haVe |
sighed for such boon, and sighed know
ing they could never receive it.
1t has been the habit Of poets to surround
simple pleasures and pursuits with the gol |
den atmosphere of romance because
they would enjoy such pleasures and pur-
suits at all, but rather because they are
forever beyound their possession A poet
is always reaching toward the unattainable
and he may reach forward to the perfec,
tions Of life Of which the best that be sees
around him is ON Intimation, or backward
to the animal content Of life as yet undis.
turbed by the intimatiOn of something bet
ter. Bucolies are very sweet, but their
writers do not believe in them. "A nut,
brown maid with bare unconscious feet
aud anceS, is very pretty in picture, but
the man who painted her ascertained that
she was green. aud not the most entertain
ing of companions. The truth is that when
we have got along so far that we can per-
ceiVe that which is poetical and picturesque
in the simplest form of rustic life, We have
got too far along TO enjoy it.
! suppose that much of the charm which
simple animal content has for us is connect
ed with the memories Of childhood We
can oil recall a period Of our lives when
there was JOY in the consciousness of living
when animal life, in its spontaneous over.
6ow, flooded all over careless hours with its
own peculiar pleasure. The light was pleas.