Burlington free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1827-1865, 1844-09-06
From the Christian Citizen.
THE NATURAL BRIDGE.
OR ONE NICHE THE HIGHEST

IHE NATURAL BKIUuE.
OR ONE NICHE THE HIGHEST.
The scene opens with a view of the grca,
Natural Bridge in Virginia. There are three
or four lads standing in the channel below,
looking up with awe to that vast arch of I'M
hewn rocks, which the Almighty bridgcd
over those everlasting butments I" when the
morning stars sang together" The little
piece OF sky spanning those measureless
piers, is full of stars, though it is midday.
1t is almost five hundred feet from where
they stand, up those perpendicular bulwarks
of limestone, to the key rock Of that vast
arch, which appears to them only of the size
of "A mans hand. The silence of death is
rendered more impressive by the little stream
that falls from rock to rock down the chan
mel. The sun is darkcncd, and the boys
have unconsciously uncovered their heads,
as if standing in the presence Of the Majesty
of the whole earth. AT last, this feeling be-
gins to wear away /; they begin to look
around them; they find that others have
been there before them. They see the
names of hundreds cut in the limestone but
ments. A new feeling comes over their
young hearts, and their knives were in their
hands in an instant. "What man has done,
man may d." is their watchword, while
they draw themselves up and carve their
names a foot above those of IA hundred full
grown men who have been there before
them.
They are all satisfied al this feat of phys
lcal exertion, except one, whose example il
l~ustratcs perfectly the forgotten truth, that
there is no royal road to intellectual emi-
nence. This ambitious youth sees "A name
Just above his reach, a name that will be
green in the memory of the world, when
those ofsAlexandcr. Cesar, and Bonapartc
shall TO. in oblivion. 1t was the name of
Washington. Before he marched with Brad
dock to that fatal field, he had been there,
and left his name a foot above all his prede-
cessors. 1t was a glorious thought of the
boy, to write his name a foot above that OF
the great father of his country. He grasps
his knife with IA irmer hand and, %clinging
to IA little jutting crag, ne cuts again into the
limestone, about a foot above where lie
stands; he then reaches up and cuts another
for his hands. Ills "A dangerous adventure ::
but as he puts his feet and hands into those
gains, and draws himself up carefully to his
full length, he finds himself a foot above
every name chronicled in that mighty wall.
While his companions are regarding him
with much concern and admiration, he cuts
his name in rude capitals, large and deep,
into that ilinty album. His knife is still IN
his hand, and strength in his slnews and a
new created aspiration in his heart. Again
he cuts another niche, and again he carvcs
his name in large capitals.-This is not
enough. Needless or the entreaties of his
companions, he cuts and climbs again. The
graduation of his ascending scale is now wi
der apart. lie measures his length at every
gain he cuts. The voices of his friends wax
weaker and weaker, ill their words are f.
nally lost on his ear. He now for the first
time casts a look beneath him. Had that
glance lasted a moment. that moment would
have been his last. lie clings with IA con-
vulslve shudder to his little niche in the rock.
An awful abyss awaits his almost certain
fall. lie is faint with severe exerlion, and
trembling from the sudden view of the
dreadful destruction to which he is exposed.
His knife is worn half way TO the haft. He
can hear the voices, but moi the words, of
his terror-stricken companions below. What
a moment! What a meagre chance to cs-
cape destructian There is no retracing his
steps. 1t is impossible to put his hands into
the same niche with his feet, and retain his
slender hold a moment. His companions
instantly perceive this new and fearful d.
lemma, and await his fall with emotions tina,
" freeze their young blood" He is too
high, too faint, to ask for his father and
mother, his brothers and sisters, TO come and
witness or avert his destruction. But one of
his companions anticipates his desire. Swift
as the wind, he bounds down the channel,
and the situation Of the fated boy is told on
his fathers hearth.stone.
Minutes of almost eternal length roll on
and there are hundreds standing in that rocky
channel, and hundreds on the bridge above,
all holding their breath, and awaiting the
fearful catastrophe. The poor boy hears the
hum of new and numerous voices both above
and below.-He can just distinguish the tones
Of his father who is shouting with all the en-
ergy of despair, William! William!
Don't look DORM! YOm mother, and Hen
ry, and Harriet are all here, praying for
you! Don't look down Keep your eye to-
wards the top ~ His eye is fixed like a
flint towards Heaven, and his young heart on
him who reigns there. He erasps again his
knife. He cuts another Mich, and another
foot is added to the hundreds that remove
him from the reach of human help from be-
low. How carefully he uses his wasting
blade! How anxiously he selects the soflest
places in that vast pier! How he avoids
every flinty grain How he economises his
physical powers !-resting a moment at each
gam he cuts.-How every motion is watch
ed from below There stands his father,
mother, brother and sister, on the very spot
where, if he falls, he will not fall alone.
The sun is now half way down the west.