The Athens post. [volume] (Athens, Tenn.) 1848-1917, 1872-03-15
TIE INEVITABLE,


Rest, rest, REST. Is there such ;
thing for the human? There arc
beings so happily constituted as tc
possess a supcrluity Of buoyancy
such may struggle even through
midnight, and yet the few stars that
break through the blackncss 50 il
luminc their hearts, and souls, anC
faces, that the world calls then
"blcsscd." Then there are those de
fiant, stoical, sccptical beings, who
have been ground and ground till
the heart itself is a miIlstonc.-
Gloomy and solitary, hating sympa
thy, trusting none, expecting moth
ing, hoping nothing, scorning the
sunshine dolcd TO them in piitancc
and refusing to let others enjoy it
whcni it might be brilliant-thcyhug
their grimncss to their hearts, teach
ing themselves and the world to be-
lieve them dead to every impulse,
every desire for affection; dcspising
the voice that whispers "lorget,'
and yet not daring to raise up the
dead leaves Of the past, lest they
find a bright or a fadcless flower.
And surely this is but another form
Of serllom to the inevitable.
Then, again, there are those whose
sad eyes and white, worn faces
speak to Us ever of life oftcars and
bondage to grief; who. with a bur
den on their backs, wall on their
lips, take not even the sackcloth
from their hearts and live. BE the
few lines that creep through the
dark wool even 50 golden; be the
few ripplcs that sparkle above the
tidal woe even so shccny: be the
flowers that peep through the .jut-
ted cliff ever 50 peerless, and the
stars above so radiant, they sec all
through an Opaque glass.
Yet there come to all, times when
or eyes must follow the inevitable;
while the wheel rolls on heavy and
crushing. gathering burden after
burden, we are bound to open the
heart leaves, and read what bows
our heads low in the dust. There
comes to all, times when the heart
and soul grow weary and sick, when
the conviction is forced upon us
that nowhere can we find rest. Oh.
the uniathomablc mystery of life.
Know the world, comprehend the
human race; il is unbarring the
gate to the great highway of mnl
tiplied woes and pcrils. Seek knowl.
edge; it is but learning the secrets
Of evil and its concomitant suffer
ing it is taking the anguish bitter
ness Of sins dover TO us, not always
by experience, but in consciousness
that there exist that which we
would not.
And must this be? Is there no
remedy! Must We grasp the night
flower Of ignorance, or els bear
ever upon our brows the impress
Of pain! Must We be chained to
the flesh! Dare we not look on
evil. unless we err! Dare we not
know the toiblcs and inconvc-
nicncics Of the human race. unless
We stumbled Must we be held
helpless and powerless, lest, We ialK
Must walk we blindloldcd and mute.
lest we wade through the slough Of
wrong-human weakness Must
we be so welded to grief and Sor-
row, losses and crosses. that we
cannot raise our eyes to the cold.
radiant splcndor that CLEAN from
the far oil Isle Of Avalon! Is
there nothing higher, nothing no.
bier for Gods children! Yes! With
his guidance, and our own strength
OF soul, and will, and purpose, we
may bury the sorrow OF our
lives, and from its ashes and dead.
ness will spring rare and radiant
iloWerS, whose ever green leaf and
fragrant blossom turned heaven
ward will bear the impress of
peace.