Rutland weekly herald. [volume] (Rutland, Vt.) 1859-1877, 1870-12-22
"Reminiscences of Andoyer Life
BY MRS. PROF. r. D. C. ROBBINS.
SUNDAY

commencing with religious exercises
in school on Saturday morning, the An
dover Sabbath threw its shadow before it
For three long hours the old woman who
taught the "Hill children" in the little
brown school-house just back of the Brick
Academy. held us prisoners over Bible
lessons, or over the mystical pages of the
Westminster Shorter Catechism." Hymns
we learned, also, and sang. The quaver-
ing of our teachers thin, cracked voice
comes back to me through the years {;
comes back, joined with the slow striking
of twelve o'clock, from the chapel belfry.
With its last stroke, we were free, and
Saturday afternoon on Andover Hill was
reckless, merry time, as gay and blithe-
some there as anywhere else perhaps
even more SO, for it was in contrast with
40 much that seemed to press us down
and hem us in.
All the swift moving hours now, until
the sun shot its last rays from the long,
low, mountain bound horizon were ours
but the moment its disk dropped below
the hills, the time was Gods, sacred of
course. Remember the Sabbath day to
keep it holy" was written, often in letters
of purple and gold, and over the western
sky.
No matter where we were, or what do.
ing, the least infringement upon this
Sabbatical time was a sin, and treated as
such.
"Be home at sunset" The words come
ringing down to me now, stern and COM
handing as they sounded then.
There was remarkable similarity in
the family habits and customs of the
Seminary Faculty. We cherished the
| feeling that we were one, and were sep.
| Grated from the rest of the world. On
Saturday night, unless in cases of sick
| ness, not light burned in dwelling af.
ter nine. 1t was preparation for the day
OF rest, and on Sabbath morning one bell
| could have summoned us all to our early
breakfast. At nearly the same moment
when up from the family affairs the pro
| onged prayers, and in precisely the same
| way the solemn Sabbath stiffness, which
followed the "Amen," settled down over
| u.s. There came a Sunday hush upon
every young voice, a softening of the step,
smile for laugh, pent, scared feeling,
as If Satan in bodily shape was waiting
GEAR, to gobble up any poor unlucky sim
| ner who should venture ever so little way
from the straight and narrow path.
l doubt whether ever glimmering OF
| the great, beautiful truths the day was
| intended to shadow forth, dawned upon
is. Let me, however, make single ex-
| ception.
In summer we were allowed to pick
| a,wers, and carry them with us to church.
Under the drawing-room windows of my
'ather's house, grew some rare dam ask
40 IL
hey were in blossom he gathered and
gave them to us, always with some ap-
| preciative word, and one of his own beam
ing smiles. The fragrance of those roses
! is around me now, making June in my
| memory of those Andover Sabbath days
At nine in the morning we all left our
homes, vending our way across the bare,
open common, to the school-house. 1t
always seemed as if Sunday had gone be.
fore, crept in, taken possession of our
familiar sohool-room, and was waiting for
us there.
We children on Andover Hill had
fewer Of what are called religious privile.
ges than any other set of beings outside
heathendom. The band are scattered
now. Far more are In another world
than here, but those who remain will
bear testimony to the truth of my asser.
ton. ...
1t must be remembered that we are
not Legitimate part OF the secluded, re.
ligious literary life, to which we were at.
tached. The founders Of the Seminary
made no provision for this young growth,
that trust itself without leave into its
very midst. Pastorless, the life and heart
found only in an active, working church,
was wanting; we grew up with no per-
sonal interest in, or attachment to, our
chapel. The very Sabbath school failed
to reach and mold us as suoh an organiza-
ton should. Our t.aohers were students
belonging to the Seminary; the transit
toriness OF our connection with them,
weakening and partially destroying it.
The Rotations were brief; then, to the
slow tolling of the bell, we marched in q
procession along the road back Of theISem-
mary to the chapel, the superintendent
in front, we all following decorously, our
teachers by our sides.
The chapel Of those days did not look
as 1t does now. The walls were dingy
blue, the pews, gallery and desk, yellow
white, and between each Of the windows
furnished brass eandelabras swung out
long, thin, tallow dips.
A part of cushion in DR.. Porter's pew,
where the invalid professor sat, was, I
think, the only one there, and the floor