The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1866-04-17
wooDsFIELD MONROE COUNTY, OHIO. APRIL IL 1865.

home,a ,as ne passes BY, seems almost to turn
its CLASSY and sightless eyes upon him with
reproach, saying: "9ad you been one of
natures noblemen, worthy Of your man.
hood, never should have been here to
remind you Of what you once enjoyed"
Yet, do we reflect that we are strewing the
battle fields with forms that could, with
a little care on our part, still be preserv-
ed? The mangled forms of wounded
feelings, perhaps needlessly, carelessly
strewn with an unfceling hand-a heart
left to droop for the cup of kindness
which could be so easily given.
We are too selfish. We were not placed
here by the All-Wise Hand to accomplish
naught save our own unholy, selfish pur.
poses; to make the whole aim of life the
aggrandizement of one individual-I
We cannot live independently of each
other. Society is as indispensable as the
vital air we breathe; We were wisely 81
constituted, each being dependent upor
the other. Yet we need not select indis
criminately, for our associates. whoever
may give us an opportunity of making
friends of them. Many are the lives wreck
ed for time and for eternity, upon the
shoals of indiscrimination. We each
have an influence which has an effect, tc
far greater extent than wesuppose, uper
! the lives of those. with whom we are asso
ciated. We do not stop to consider wha
effect that littlo word, so small in itself
will have upon its auditors. A tiny pe6
BILE thrown on the mighty oceans bosom
sinks far down into its briny depths, ,amic
the coral groves of that watery world
So, many a word just as tiny as that peb
ble,. in our estimation, carelessly spoken
has sunk far down into the secret depths
of the heart, and as the pebble cast on th'
oceans bosom rests for a moment, ther
sinks, forming tiny waves which wider
until the eye canno longerfollow, SO thes'
unthoughtedly spoken words will not droE
noiselessly, remorselessly into the heart
but will influence the future life NOR,
than they had any thought Of their doing
aLife is realt Life is earnesti
And the grave is not its goal.
Dust thou ito dust rsturneth
Was not spoken of the soul.n
Life is real; yes, and earnest. We d.
not realize half its awful, solemn realities
as responsible beings, having to give al
account before God, for our every word
action or thought. Consider one moment
Do we act as we would if we were in th
presence of Him that sitteth upon tn
great White Throne? fear not; yet the
are no less open to Him because He
not visible tQ us; every little thought i
heard and recorded, for which some da.
we will have to account.
"Time is feeting" He sweeps by th
monarch Time, bearing in his hand hi
gemless scepter, and each covers beneatl
his sway, or mayhap, he softly comes lik
a thief in the night-His noiseless step
traced on the Patriarch's brow. w
young and gay dream not how closely h
tracks our way-he turns not backwar
in his onward course, nor tarries for ou
Islow and faltering steps. We must b
lup and doing, onward, striving with
will for any fate. Upward struggling t
the brighter world beyond.
Life is a dread, stern reality; passin
duty that must be performed. 1t is a
|exertion of every faculty that has bee
given us, mentally and physically.
"Dust thou art, to dust returneth,
Was not spoken of the soul"
/ Our immortal spirits are not to crumbl
into dust; they will live on, from age
]age, through all the endless ages of eter
nifty.
| "The grave is not its goal" Our bod
lies, fearfully and wonderfully formet
will moulder into dust, from which, W
Iare told in "Holy Writ" they were orig
finally taken; nor will the soul, throug
the endless cycles of the hereafter, ceas
to exist. Fi
i We each and all have our work to d,
because we are not doing work thu
will register our names ip the highes
pinnacle of the temple of worldly fam,
we need not sit supinely down and fol
, our hands. Let our work be ever /
small and Insignificant in the eyes of tt
world, if it is well performed, We shal
in the great day of receiving, receive
-Ijust reward for all our labors. How fea
full the responsibility How awful is Il
life which we spend 50 lightly, and eve
! weary of its short duratioui M
, Swiftly and silently We are passir
] away. Soon the brittle thread will
' broken, the silver cord loosed. The spa
of life is gently waning:
"Though we now are young, and -
D Our hearts are stout and brave, @
I'll Still like unified drums are beating