Feliciana sentinel. [volume] (St. Francisville, La.) 1877-1892, 1877-11-03
POVERTY.


famine to the savage in the wilds; it is
hardships to tho laborcr in the cottage.
lit is disgrace to the proud and to the mi
ser despair. 1t is a spectre which with
dread OF fchange perpIexes' him who lives
ut case. Such are its aspects, but what
is it 1t is a deficiency of the comforts
ofife,-a deficiency present and to come.
1t involves many other things; but this
is what it is. lis it then worth all the ap.
prehension anllgrief it occasions Is it
an adequate: cnuse for the gloom of the
merchant, tho discomfort of the artisan,
| the foreboding sigls of the mother, the
ghastly dreams which haunt the ayari-
! cious, the conscious debasement of the
subcrvient,' tho hemiliation of the proud
These are severe sufferings; are they au-
thorized by the nature of poverty Cer-
| tainly not, if poverty induced no adventi-
! tious evils, involved nothing but q defc-
iency of the comforts of life, leaving life
| itself unimpaired. ''The life is more than
| food and tho body than railncnt;" and the
lntimely extinction of the life itself
would not be worth the pangs which APP
prehend poverty eNcites But poverty
| involves woes which, in their sum, are
far greater than itself. To the multitude
| 1T is the loss of a pursuit which they have
! yet to learn will be certainly supplied.
For such alienation or compensation is
in store in the rising up of new objects,
| and the creation of fresh hopes. The i'm
| poverishcd merchant, who may no longer
| look out for his argosies, may yet be in
gee when he finds it "a rare dropping
morning for the early coewort." To an
other multitude, poverty involves loss of
rank,-a letting down among strangers
whose manners are ungenial, and their
thoughts unflmiar. For these there may
DC solace in retirement, or the evil may
fall short of its threats. The reduced
| gcntlewoman may live in patient solitude
or may grow into sympathy with her
ncighbors, by raising some Of them up to
herself: and by warming her heart at the
great central fire Of Humanity, which
| burns OH uudcr the crust of manners, rs
| rough as the storms of the tropics, or as
frigid as polar SHOWS. Tho avar:cious
are out of the pale Of peace already, and
at all events. Poverty is most seriously
an evil to sous and daughters, who sec
| their parents stripped of comfort, at an
| age when comfort is almost one with life
! itself; and to parents who watch the mar
rowing OF the capacities of their children
by the pressure of poverty, the impairing
OF their promise, the blotting out of their
| prospects. To sucli mourning children
there is little comfort. but in contempla-
| IN 20 VIII;
and, Git may be hoped) the happier one
which stretches before their parents, on
the other side the postern oflifc. If there
is sunshine on the two grand reaches of
their path, the shadow which lies in the
midst is necessarily hut temporary
gloom. The mothers eyes may swim as
she hears her little daughter sing her
baby brother to sleep on the cottage
| threshold, her eyes may swim at the
thought how those wild and moving tones
might have been exalted by art Such
art would have been in itself a good but
| wonll this child then have been, as now
! about her Fathers business, which, in
mistcring to one of his little ones, she is
as surely as the archangel who suspends
| new systems of worlds in the filrthest
void7 Her occupation is now earnest
and holy: and what need the true mother
wish for morc9
| What is poverty to those who arc not
thus set in families? What is it to the
| solitary, OF to the husband and wife who
have faith in each others strength If
they have pluckcd out the stinYs of pride
and seltishncss, and purified their vision
by faith, what is there to drcad9 What
is their casc7 They have life, without
certainty how it is to be nourshed. They
do without certainty, like ":thc young
ravens which cry,' and work for and
enjoy the subsistence of the day, leaving
| the morrow to take care of what concerns
it. Ifliving III the drcaricst abodcs of a
town, the light from within shines in the
dark place, and, dispelling the mists of
worldly care, guides to the blessing of
tending the sick, and sharing the food of
to-day with the orphan, and him VIII has
no help but in them. If the philosopher
! goes into such retreats with his liant crn,
there may be best fined tho generous; and
the bravc.-If, instead of the alleys Of a
city, they live under the sky, they are
yet lighter under their poverty. There,
however blank the future maylie before
them, they have to-day the living reality
of lawns and woods, and flocl1s in stho
green pasture and beside the still watcrs.''
which silently remind thcm of the Shep-
herd, under whom they shall not want
any real good thing. The quiet of the
shady lane is theirs, and the beauty of
the blossoncing thorn above the pool.
Delight soaals through them with the