Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1891-01-01
For the Ellsworth American.
Influence. ...

What mysterious. indeHnable ethereal
essence is human life-too high for ma
terial grasp, too subtle for analysis, too
profound to fathom. With what Keen
and fitting sense of the marvellous has the
poet exclaimed What a mystery to man
is man" Every part is marve! of ex-
quisite workmanship, every organ an ex-
preston of inconceivabe power. every
sense, every feeling. every inspiration ,
struggling for expression Yet but partially
revealed; such variety of moral express
sions proceeding from uni; of spiritual
life concealed from sense and mental sight,
which like a tree whose variegated foil
age and delicious fruit ripen before the
eye while its roots lie packed unseen in the
nourishing soil beneath.
What fathomless unknown lies
Just below the known in man,
Forever goes on the noiseless music Of
the soul, save when it rises and breaks in
gentle ripple- on the surface of life. Every
voice of the universe whispers in the ear
of man and he catches its music and in
te' prets its meaning. Himself the mirror
and explanation of the universe and yet
appalled, at his own thought, surprised at
his own foot prints.
How widely and yet how silently his in
fuence is diTused through the great mass
of surrounding social life. We may know
best the motives and principles that gov
ern US, have the keenest insight into our
wants and aspirations. may best read with
intuitiye glance the feelings and emotions
that stir us. or the depth of those afec-
tons that move Us to love, or pity, or sym
patty, yet of that mysterious, invisible,
subtle essence called influence that pro-
ceeds from the partial expression of the
life within, like light from the sun, or
heat from the furnace. or electric force
from aerial hiding places, we know the
least of its power Without our cogni-
zance or consent the silent messenger goes
from US on its unerring errand, touching
hearts with sadness, chilling affections with
its frosty touch, or like the white-wnged
dove carrying the olive branch Of peace,
cheering some lone traveller along life's
highway with a kindly hope and interest,
melting some obdurate heart with its tea
der sweetness shaping and moulding some
character with its divine impress; or like
the deadly upas tree, filling the atmos-
phere with its arrows of death O, what
a blasting, blighting influence has the
cynic or chronic Pathfinder, What a
chill he sends through every feeble trust
ing heart; how his burning fingers scorch
the beauty of private character, and black
en- the scrolls of public honor, How
many hearts have bled, how many lives
have wthered in their tender usefulness,
how many first immature efforts to be have
persisted under the bitter, biting sarcasm
of the unfeeling, unguarded cynic! o,
the person who spends the best part of his
life in searching evil in Others, and feeds on
it with fiendsh delight, is the most loath-
some curse this earth holds up. While
he is applying the torch to other charac-
tiers, he is kindling the fire around his own
unselfish motive, every pure principle,
every noble impulse and feeling of which
he may have been the unworthy heir. He
who is discovering with pleasure the
faults of others and parading them before
the world, is surely advertising his own;
and he who aims the bitter darts of jeal-
ousy to wound friend is turning the
scorn and contempt of all noble natures
upon himself, and is greatly lessening his
chances in the race for life. 1t is not al
ways the mighty deeds that one achieves
that give tone and value and a lasting
glory to human life; but the pure, noble
purpose that runs like a golden thread
through human endeayors will shine with
impershable lusteF, when the deeds
of which it were the parent. have lost their
power to charm or delight. Alexander,
the mighty Grecian conqueror, who daz-
zled the world with his military achieve
ments, is only remembered as relentless
warrior, while the nations that he tram.
Piled in blood, and gorgeous cities that he
reduced to ashes, to satisfy the greed of
an unconquered ambition, hold up their
CHASTITY hands in eternal condemnation of
his infamous character! Alexander has
no place In the sacred memory of this peace
loving age of refined civilization.
OF all the bible characters in both the
old and the new testaments, prophets,
priests, kings and yeomanry, none are
more sweetly and tenderly spoken of and
remembered than the "widow who gave