St. Landry democrat., 1890-11-22
Books.
The burning soul, the burdened mind,
In books alone companions find.

The burning soul, the burdened mind,
In books alone companions find.
The poets lament in saddest strains the
departure of the golden age of the worlds
history. The burden of their song, Dorne
afar on the breezes of heaven, is echoed
and re- echoed until every heart .vibrates
with the music of the sad refrain:
Friendship Is an empty name.
They tell US that constancy no longer
hath her abode where human foot can
follow Like to the fountain of perpetual
youth, the report of whose magic power
tempted Ponce de Leon to abandon home
! and friends and the enchanting beauty Of
sunny Spain, the search for constant and
faithful friend will continue fruitless un-
till the rim reaper shall have drawn his
scythe for the last time. But these are
only tue dreamy wanderings of poetical
imagination. In reality we are surrounded
by friends whose worth 'twere folly to
deny.
Priceless beyond compare are the good
books which Gods providence has placed
within our resch. He has implanted in
our natures longing for congenial com
partnership, and where can this craving be
more readily satisfied than in the COM
pany of a good book2 Noble and pure are
these friends of ours, companions whose
presence will never cause blush of shame
to mount to our brow. They are the de-
postories of the thoughts of genius. They
have received the confidence of the lowly
born as well as of the noblest of the land.
The worlds history lies imbedded in their
hearts and the worlds joys and sorrows
have found resting place in their bosoms.
No matter what our wants may be, our de-
mandS are never inOppOrtune
At our bidding time and space are ami
Inflated and the world passes before our
view like magnificent panorama. Scene
after scene goes shifting by whose beautl-
full minglings of light and shade afford the
keenest Intellectual enjoyment. In spirit
we wander through the nazes of the
hanging gardens of Seniramis and inhale
the delicious perfume of blossoms yet
heavy with dew. We gaze with pity ON
the beautiful queen of Palmyra as she
passes bound in golden chains, to the
loneliness of Roman prison. Behold US
present while the Trojan war RACES once
again. We stand on the rsmparts beside
the beautiful Helen and see, with distended
eyes, the flower of Grecian chivalry falling
meath the sword of the enemy.
Millions angels sing sweet praises of the
joys of paradise Bryants "Thanatopsis"
recalls images of the dread hour when
each shall take up his abode in the silent
halls of death We feel Juggling at our
heart strings when Longfellow, vita in
imitable pathos, relates the sad story of
sweet "Evangeline. Cardinal Manning
points out the -Four Great Evils of the
Day." and shows US how to avoid them.
And, lastly, Father Faber leads US to "The
Foot of the Cross" there to find all that
the heart OF man can crave.
Can we complain of the want of COM
panionship when we may select and keep
for a life time the most gifted of Gods
creatures-men gifted by nature and by
grace? They will never forsake US even
when all else fails; when friends grow
cold and fortune frowns and our hopes
melt away
Like snow falls on river,
One moment white then gone forever.
We turn to them for consolation when
the burdens of life seem greater than we
can bear, and they welcome US with out
stretched arms and whisper to our desc.
late hearts that they will never withhold
their sympathy and love. They rejoice
with US in gladness aud weep when they
bt hold the mourning veil of sorrow en-
shrouding our life. They comfort us by
showing that others have borne the same
heavy burdens of woe, but strong in their
confidence in Gods tender mercy and love,
have toiled on to the end and have won
the crown. In all truth be it said:
How much to be priced and esteemed is friend
On whom we can always with safety depend;
Our joys when extended are always increased,
Our griefs when divided are hushed into peace.
Men have lived on earth and have
proved burden, but a good book has
never yet failed to fulfill its mission -
Annie McKeney, in Old Homestead.