Commerce, War, and Civilization [pp. 256-262]

COMMERCE, WAR AND CIVILIZATION.
outer wall that its great extent dawns upon one. The inner
door opens upon a beautiful little court, quadrangular in shape,
alive with a pretty fountain garnished with flowers and embayed beneath the leafy arms of two splendid shade-trees. The
rooms which overlook this are only one story high, and the
whole wears an air as unlike a bank, and as like a country
villa, as one can well imagine.
Trusting that you are pounding Radicalism down to a wholesome Andy Johnson foundation, I remain, truly yours,
CARTE BLANCHE.
ART. IV.-COMMERCE, WAR AND CIVILIZATION.
IT is needless, if not profane, to inquire as to the oritin of civilization. There is nothing in profane history to justify the conclusion
that any portion of the white race was ever savage. Onil the contrary, monumental history, the oldest and most reliable of all history, so far as this inquiry is concerned, carries us only back to a fardistant past, wherein taste and skill, art and industry exhibit achievements bolder in design and execution, more sublime, more elaborate
and more beautiful than any of the present day. Not so various, it
is true, but for that very reason more sublime, more elaborate, and
more beautiful. Human attention was not then divided and enfeebled
by the necessary observation of too many objects; human thought was
not broken in upon, perplexed and distracted by the necessity of
daily and hourly supplying a thousand artificial wants, dictated by
mere capricious fashion; the human mitid was not weakened and
frittered away by an endless variety of studies, and human industry
and energy were not hurried on to hasty, coarse, slovenly achievements by the insatiate cravings of a vulgar public, for mere novelty,
variety, and gaudy glare and glitter; men then had time to think,
to plan, and to execute. There was concentration and continuous
exertion of thought, taste, energy and industry on a few subjects, objects and pursuits; and the effects of this concentration and continuous exertion is strikingly and beautifully apparent in all the works
of ancient art. A man now has neither time to think, to write, nor
to act, unless he has the good fortune to get into jail, or to lose his
eyesight. (Or perhaps one may do equally well by coming out to
Camp Lee, near Richmond, where this is written, or going down to
Port Royal.) Our affections are pretty equally divided between these
two lovely spots, where the vulgar hum of industry is never heard,
where intrusive visitors seldom disturb, and where silence, peace and
quietude reign supreme. As our falnily is in Port Royal, we shall
soon have, we fear, to bid a final adieu to Camp Lee. Now, be patient, polite, kind and gentle readers, for we are firmly resolved to
let you know all about Port Royal and Camp Lee, ere very long,
and to render both places historic, if we can.
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