The Tipton advertiser. [volume] (Tipton, Cedar Co., Iowa) 1856-1962, 1856-02-02

oitlon ana legend TO our aldi Tradition
and legend, which in their vivid bu, ir-
regular details. remind us iorcibly Of the
crude style of battle which young Wash.
ington so fruitlessly commended to the
notice OF the regular general, on the bat
tie day Of Monongahela.
Learn, then, the manner cf Young
Washlng,on's communion with nature
and with Gud. But frs, learn and know
by heart the scenes Ia which his boyhood
passed away.
Over tumultuous torrent, high in the
upper air, there hangs bridge OF rock,
fashioned by the hand of Nature, with
the peaks of granite mountains for its
horizon. Two hundred feet above the
foaming waves you behold the arch,
which in Its very ruggedness, looks grace.
lui as floating scarf Over the wave
looking through the arck, you catch Vi
SION OF colossal cliffs, with a glimpse oi
smiling sky. Advance to the parapet ot
this bridge - cling to the shrubs that grow
.here--look below! Your hear, grows
slck-your brain reels.
Stand in the shadow of the arch aud
look above. How beautiful While the
torrent sparkles a. your feet. yonder in
the very heaven, the Arch Roc fills
your eye, and spans the abyss, with gan
trees upon its brow.
TO the Natural Bridge, Washington,
the young pilgrim came. lie stood by
the waves at sunset--he drank in the
rugged sublimlty of the scene. A nd when
the morning came, with an unialterlng
step, and hand that never shook, no, for
an instant, with one pulse of fear, he
climbed the awful height he wrote his
name upon the summit, beneath the tall
pine, ard saw the church OF. day among
the mountains
Who shall picture his emotions in tia,
hour?
And his unfaltering hand traced the
name upon the rock, did he dream of tie
day wAan that name should be stamped
upon the history Of the country, and writ
ten, not In stone, but in throbs Of living
hearts?
AS he stood upon the arch an1 saw
the torrent sparkle dimly far below, while
the kiss Of light was glittering over the
mountain tops, did no vision OF the battle
field, no shadowy presentment OF glory,
gleam awiulls before his flashing eyss2
Again; another scene OF Washington s
education.
There is river which spaihies beau
utully among It's lcaiy banks-gldes on
As smoothly Is the dream oi slnless sium-
Der but even as you gaze upon It's glus-
sy waves, II rushes RON your s.ghl. II
ghtes over a bed OF ocks, and thea thro
a yawn,ng abyss sinks with one sullen
plunge III the bosom Of tie earth. On
enc side you behold its smooth waters;
a. your ieet the abyss; yonder, an uudu-
atlng meadow. ie, where should be
the course o. the river, you behold slopes
Of grass and flowers.
Ii tls simply called the LIST River.
1T fills you with nexpIlcable emotion
10 see this beautiful stream, now flashing
In the sun light, now ere you can count
one, lost in dismal cayerns, with flowers
growing upon lis grave.
Here Washington, the pilgrim, wan
dered of,entime, and gazed with a ull
heart apou the mysterious river.
Shai, my lie be like taat OF river I!
Gliding smoothly on--sAinlng in sun
hight, only to plunge withou, moments $
warning, into night aud eternity
Did no thought like this cross the
young pilgrims souIa In that wonder
Gus river he beLe.i symbol OF brave
life suddenly plunged IN darkness. r,
only TO rise more beautiful and s.Icng,
after the night was over and the dal =
ness was go4e. For after three mics oi
darkness tAe Lost River comes sparkling
INTO the open air.
Amid scenes like this the youth oil
Washington was passed. He grew to
manhood amid tie glorious Images OF un-
polluted nature. Now, pausing near the
mountain top, he saw tne valleys OF Nlr-
mia iadu tar away, IN one long smile oil
verdGre and sunshine, with the Potion &C
like silver thread Ia the distance Now
battling l,r life, amid hunger snow Ind
savage foes, he makes his bed Ia tie ho-
low Of rock, or sets his destiny uhoai
amid the wav and ice OF winter river.
There is picture IN the lie OF Wa ang
ton the boy, which has ever Impressed
my soul.
1t is not SO much tina, picture Of youag
Washington seated at the feet Of his WI
doNed mother, gazing into her face,
drinking tie iatnoaltess affection ol TIER
mid eyes, and ior acl sake reuoancms
the gltterlns prospect OF an ocean lie.
aud aureIs gathered from the CORY
waves.
This picture in It's simplicity IS very
beautiful
But il is another picture which en-
chaius me- Behold il.
By the side Of lonely stream, in the
depth Of green woodland, sits a 10y oil
| tourteen-shut out from the world, alone
with his heart-his finger laid upon an
opened volume, while his large gray
eye gazes vacantly into TIE deep waters
And that volume is the old Family
Bible, marked with the name Of his an.
cestor John Washington, ard from it.
large letters look forth the Prophet of Is
rael, and f m It's pages, printed ID az.
,lque style, the face Of Jesus smiles il
upon tie soul Of the dreaming boy.