The Wheeling daily intelligencer. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1865-1903, 1868-09-14
a wIsT VIRGINIA WOMAN IN NEW
HAMPSHIRE.
Vermont ana sIaIne-A New EnKInnt
Sabbath.

vermont and SIaIue-A New England
Sabbath.
How the Sun Rises and Sets fn the
| White Mountains.
Dear Intelhgencer:
The splendid victory in Vermont has
hardly moved the people OF this State.
1t was foregone conclusion, and the
Republicans take it as did Washing
toms mother at her sons elevation
| George was always good boy" So
Vermont rings always true to liberty.
| But it was indeed a brilliant opening
a clear gain of 1000 over last year. In
| Maine things are going the same way.
Both parties are at work in earnest.
Conventions are the order of the day.
Which, is to be the winning side let one
judge by the relative size of the rally
| ut these. The "Gre4t Democratic Con-
vention," heralded by flaming bills, u Ia
Dan Rice, showing forth the impend
ing ruin, and conjuring all patriots to
rally and hear Pendleton-this con-
vention had eight thousand Patriots by
liberal estimate, while tile Republicans
in the same week massed thirty thou
sand strong. The Republican majority
of Maine last year was over eleven
thousand, and they promise TO swell
this greatly the coming 18th of this
| month.
Let our Democrats at home there. ad-
| just their telescopes against that date,
and perhaps they will sec stars. One
should be charitable, but really this
Pendleton oratory put forth in New
| England, reminds me of the sad, mus
culnr fandangoes danced by beheSd-
ed chicken.
But to go from the ridiculous to the
sublime-a backward step, / will tell
a little of New England's crown jewell
her Sabbath. One sees it here in real
i Puritan eRrnestness. Think then, of
yesterday at early dawn. In the east
the color deepened, clouds grouped
and sailed like swans on IL golden sea.
Then the sun came nearer throwing
great rays'lilke crimson ribbons up to
the zenith. The swans still sailed but
with changed plumage, the sea grew
crimson, and the sun rose. My words
are weak 10 tell how beautiful is the
scene upon which his light shone.
| Hills bound the horizon, wooded and
grand; here dense forests of white pine
and against their lighter green, the
dark Normandy pine, stripping the
hills like malachite; naples with dashes
of scarlet and yellow in Them already;
and hanging over -homesteads, that
princeliest of trees, the elm.-swing in
the morning wind. There is a constant
signing in the air, here, from the pines,
and on a Sabbath IL is souorous-for
man is still, and it has full play.
Many of your readers have seen New
| England villages. They are unlike any
other. First the church-white and
large, with its spire, bell and weather
vaue. 1t stands fronting the common,
| long rows of sheds on either side for
the teams. Opposite is the academy,
and beside the chapel. 10 go up tho
street-for these villages have but one
street, though roads branch in every
directIon-to go up the street on Sab
| bath, one sees the houses with curtains
meekly dropped, like lowered eye lids.
The houses are mostly wooden, painted
white, with regulation green blinds.
Some of these houses, or mansions as
they are called, are very old and quite
stately, big doored and Widowed.
Others of the humber class of old time
houses, are squat and droll. One would
laugh at them but the dignity of age
bespeaks reverence, and tears would
come before smiles. Such have little
patchwork window glasses and are
painted dull yellow or red.
But must tell of the day. We break
fast; grnce of greater feryor is asked,
and then como prayers. Out from
the steeple the bell calls and the
hills bear the sound on to the
or spirits in the air. An hour,
and here come the people, in all kinds
of carriages, lone horse shays," Con-
cord wagons, jumpers. These are the
old time relics. The most are modern
and up with the times and, of course,
l
with high foreheads, as a class, and
earnest eyes, the young girls rosy and
serene, the little boys uncom Portable in
Sunday clothes. There is but one
church here and marvel how so many
| New Englanders can think one way,
or rather march together. 1t is novel
and beautiful to see sect merged in
greater considerations. AS we enter,
| not head is turned to gaze-all |
| regard the minister. He is in pulpit |
/ toll, 1f old I,
with stairs running up each side; it Is |
| like tower.
As in the olden times, he is the viii
lage patriarch, with his tall queer
black straw hat, and white dressed
neck, and to the people seems being |
set apart; and the organ plays and |
| the choir pour out the old tunes |
full and we'll, and the pas
tor speaks. His to burden is duty TO
| God and one another-and how we |
should put Christ's teachings to use in |
our every day life a thousand fold |
more than we do, and be indeed merci- |
| full and generous. If the Southern peo- |
pie could hear the Northern pulpit as |
hear it through New England they
would learn that the Higher Law, SO |
hated and jeered, is the law of kindness |
and justice. To go back when the |
choir sing the audience turn round to |
| face the music. Then comes prayer, |
all standing, and the blessing is given,
ana we go hOmeward, but very silent |
| ly. Then is the Sunday School whose |
scholars range from three to eighty |
years. On this day no dinner Is GOT
ouly lunch is eaten-and after il we |
gather to communion. The pastor is |
now below, standing before The table, |
on which shines the cup and lies the |
bread of remembrance. Forty years |
ago he came to them, and his hands are
tremulous as lie breaks the bread. /
There are very many commandments,
and white hands and bowed forms |
abound. There was stiffness, like the
| "hushing of hush" as the symbols |
went round. The minister spoke not of |
the agony nor the passion, but again
upon our duty, aye are my friends If
We do whatsoever 1 command" He
told us to help the weak and suffering,
and to lead the blind to light for Christie
sake. 1t was the most simple, the most
solemn communion 1 had ever had.
And it strengthens one for the ter
rible active war that RACES now fierce
ly, of evil and selfishness, against right.
Again we went to our homes to re-
assemble at fiYein The chapel for sing
ing, conversation and prayer. This
over, from out the sheds thsteams were
backed, and off on the many roads
went the farmers to their homes, the /
sun making slanting lines through the
trees, as they drove on. Then came
] the dnkle of milk pals, the voices of |