Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1869-10-15
Saturday Afternoon.
by HARRIET pEEcnER STOWE.


IT is our opinion that every human be-
ing needs to have some one thing in which
he takes pleasure for itsdf aloaG-not as
work, not rs duty, but as diversion.
In old times, when children were strict
ly schoolcd and ruled, Saturday afternoon
was the children's pcrquisitc-their little
pcculium. Then they dill what they
pleased At all other times, they did as
they were bid. ,. ..,
Grown children need something CORE
spending to this. They need time when
they let off the strain of the dreadful MUST
something which they can do or leave
undone at pleasure but which they do for
the pure love of it. III
What this thing is varies with character.
With some it is pure Ioafng-sitting in a
state Of quiesccnt enjoyment of sunshine
and nature. Wordsworth calls it
1.-THE harvest of quiet eye
and sings verses in praise of it eloquent as
the murmur of brooks.
Poets, imaginative men, and sensitive
people of all kind arc given to silent,
brooding wanderings, lying under trees,
gazing listlessly into the sky, and letting
nature rock them as ina cradle. a,t9Fg
Such a person goes out into nature
neither as a botanist, a mineralogist, nor
scientist of any kind. There is lcOrk in all
these, and what he seeks is repose. The
glorifed patron saint of all loaiers the
divine Wordsworth, has settled this matter
for all his followers in two stanzas;
Content If he may but enjoy
rf.r.f The things that others understandn
What splendid loafing was done in all
that lake region, as he wandered in q sort
of Illuminated fog, trailing clouds Of glory
after him! How cool and fresh and deWy
he made the hot, slllry air Of, English 1T
erature, which had become dose and swell.
tcring with Byron birthstone!
No wonder men looked on his poetry as
q new evangel, and quoted it with tears in
their eyes, for there was in it the very rest
and rcpose which the hot, weary turbu-
lence of modern life made necessary 2
Wordsworth was and still is the poet Of
repose and peace, as needful now as when
he wrote. He is,t be sure, all essentially
English in his details. 1t is an English
landscape, English trees, and Englishilow-
ers he pTesents but thesspira Of his poet
ry applies equally well TO the bright skies
and rainbow woods of America, as to the
showery green regions ofthe English lakes.
Hawth0fneIwas follower Of Wordsworth
in spirit. His prose is essentially poetry,
and it is the poetic character OF his short
pieces that gives dhe neverdyingi charm
tothem, and will make them Immortal as
far as the English language is immortal.
DIR. Holmes has, in Elsie Nenner,' pas
sages which show that even his subtle,
mercIlrial temperament had felt the charm
OF this silent, quiescent state OF baptism
into nature. Brilliant as he Is in social
circles, it is evident, from some OF his
writings that he has been for many hours
OF his lifnl a hushtd and silent llstelier a ]
pupil, aipassivej receiver and believer OF
Wordsworth's doctrine;
"Nor less deem that there meIpovers
Which Of themselves 0nr minds impress,
That we can feed this mind Of ours
In a wise passiveness. ''E" "' 80
Think you In all this mighty sum -lfif..
or things forever speaking, fl % ami.
That nothing of itself will come,
But we must still be seekingf'
The resting grounds ofminds, however,
must be various but we think men and
women more and more wear out for want
of them. - fftD 800 "a
When, o busy friendi hot with the
Wall.street chase, when do yOu get
Saturday afternoon g-and where do you
play9 Where, poor, dear mother of
great family of boys and girls, In g6lR litte
comfortable play -groundY These noisy,
bright, romping, crOwding boys aud girls,
who, .e4ery Dhe oftheIp, press -npOn you
and leave you not a moment 10 yourself,
have they each flvorite little amusement
or lsolaee. Tina and Bessie have their
dolls and baby houses7r Tom, and Jack
their boats and railroad cars-yoUr cole.
gianlhk cigar aud his newsi,aper-yoar
daughter her embroidery and music. What
have you? Is there moment any where
sacred 10 your own private peculiar pleas