The Wheeling daily intelligencer. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1865-1903, 1871-07-11

Irving once said. "NeyCr need mn
American look beyond his own country
for the sublime and beautiful In natural
scenery lthas always been matter Of
great surprise to me, why people jAded
and worn out by the Ceaseless toll of bust.
ness life should endeavOr TO find the 70.
Taxation they stand In need of in the con.
tinual whirl of excitement and unnatural
pleasure Of our fashionable watering
places, Common sense should suggest,
methinks, a retreat for II season away
from the Toll aud tumult OF the city, or the
forced and giddy life Of Cape May and
Long Branch, to the grand old hills which
surround lis.
To the right of the National Road,
about three.quartGrs of q mile northwest
Of Bridgeport, on nearly the highest point
Of the hill that runs parallel for halfmile
with the pike, the green shrubbery around
1t contrasting favorably with the clouds
which bound the horizon with golden
band, house whose sombre but rich ton.
ing that age alone can give when its slow
penCilllngs are never disturbed by the
rude intrusion of the painters brush
Is Eagles Nest!'
A struggling, narrow road, almost
screened from the rays Of the sun by the
dense foliage which surrounds It, leads
from Bridgeport to this nest in the clouds
and after thirty minutes Of toilsome as.
cent, weary, but not dispirited, We en-.
tered the Nest in triumph, and gazed out
on the vast panorama Of fields, forests
and waters. Immediately before us Is
the city Of Wheeling, and we can sec over
the hills which In the distance, dotted
alternately with green and yellow spots
corn and whcaD, surround II. To our
left the Ohio, sparkling like q string Of
pearls set in an emerald wreath, passes
Martins Ferry, whose church spires rise
In the distance, surrounds Wheeling Is.
land, which, with iLs orchards and the
varigated color of It's cottages, resembles
huge bouquet In vase OF water, and Is
finally lost TO sight by the hill which
shuts off the view toward tho South.
Westward, ST. Clairsvile can Just be seen
and the white dusty pike looks like q
huge snake beside the tiny silver thread
which widens into Indian Creek and
empties into the Ohio at Bridgeport.
Orchards TO the right Orchards 10 the
left and the white cottages Of the we'll.
to.do gardeners cleaning through the
tangled tborny hedge which slopes to the
waters edge, the well cultivated fields,
and the spires that lii 10 the skies, make
up q very pretty picture.
The sun sank beyond the horizon, and
It's light died softly away. The clear,
CLASSY Ohio reflected the green copse that
stood on It's shore, and the high hills which
sloped gradually toward the water. How
beautiful There Is something In this
quiet scenery that brings 10 me far greater
pleasure than rumbling, seethinG cata.
racts, with their dashing spray. The
stormy emotions Of the soul gradually
sink into sweet tranquility, as II drinks In
the gentle beauty Of the scene, and thought
flows on in pure and pleasant reverie.
A slight shower made the air cool and
balmy, and crowned the shrubs and flow.
ers with cOronet Of dlamondA When
the fire.hles were dancing through tho air
like shower Of meteors, we turned our
faces toward the droning hum Of the busy
city, through the quiet beauty Of green
fields and variegated blossoms-oi lowing
herds and winged melodeons of the air.
soothed by all sounds, from the hum Of
insects Ia. the cav Of crOws-satished, with
Cowper
Nor Rural sights alone, but rural sounds,
kXhllarate the spirit and restore
The tone Of Anguid nature"
Wheeling, JUiy 10. LAIN