Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1875-11-10
Nafrhman &c guurnai.
WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 10, 1875.
Brief Notes Of My Vacation.

men, who can submit to the hard experience
Of our new settlements, and be content with
the common lot Of their patrons, are, really
the want Of this country. 1t would seem by
the starving professionals (using the term
In It's better sense) cooped up in our cities,
that our country affords very poor prospects
for educated talents. But the trouble is,
these people had rather starve in the cities
than thrive in the back wood or on our yir-
gin prairies. The cultured Mistocracies of
bur ambitious classical schools, court physi-
cal effeminacy that units their students for
the rugged ways Of tho world. Then, the
increase in number and variety Of the pro-
fessions requires adaptation in education, to
give requisite knowledge to engineers, chem
lists, miners, commercial secretaries, and cor
respondents to say nothing of the class Of
editors and reporters who grow up into
their situations. Colleges must be sup
ported, and the men who have accumu-
lated wealth by a severe devotion to
special calling, generally fail Of seeing util-
ity in an education having no reference TO
plans and aims of life. Whatever may be
the wishea of masters in our schools Of
thought, the necessities Of the times and Of
the country will dictate the curriculum Of
studies in our colleges and schools.
THE WILLS RIVER RAILROAD
affords convenient facility Of travel from
Montpelier to the White Mountains, which
it was my privilege TO improve. 1t is inter
esting to think of those olden times, when
the White Mountains were reached only by
private team, or the stage coach, and visit
there was the enterprise Of a lifetime Now
in palace car we go to the very base OF
these mountains, and find transient home
in one Of the magnificent hotels, nestled in
the glens between their foot hills. The re-
Gently erected Fabyan House is as a palace
in the wilderness affording accommodations
for over four hundred guests. 1t is well kept,
and its visitors will be likely to remember
the care and hospitalities Of its kindly hosts.
Among the guests was pointed out to me
Charles Francis Adans. Though have been
an admirer Of his craftsmanship, his patriot
ism, and his learning and intelligence, all
my life, his habits aud manners seem so re-
served should scarcely have dared to make
his acquaintance, even il had had a mutual
friend to give me an introduction. There
seems to be nothing in his nature in common
with the cosmopolitan sympathies Of tour
ist Ii we are to possess ourselves Of the
treasures Of his mind and heart, we can only
hope to realize this through his published
speeches and writings. If we are asked
why Mr.. Adams recently failed Of a nomina
ton for the office of Governor OF Massachu
setts, the answer is, that the masses do not
know If he possess a kind and congenial ma
turc, like Henry Wilson. Hence, while they
do not doubt his possession Of the highest
qualities of craftsmanship, they vote, as
crusty bachelors say the women would vote
by the dictates of their sympathies and feel
iHgs 1t is probably the misfortune Of Mr.
Adams, in his relation to American politics
that he has spent so many years of his life IN
very able diplomatic foreign servicei that he
was educated in foreign schools, and actec
as secretary OF legation in very early life; his
manners and his habits Of Intercourse witt
men became more foreign than American
while no man ever doubted his republican
principles
MOUNT wAsHiNGTON.
While scarcely one day in the week afford
I Al u. .es.rr
ton. majority of visitors, like ourselves, ar
disappointed though we had some magnifi
cent landscape views during the descent
The wind blew gale on the top of tn
mountain, moving at the rate of sixty mile
an hour, while we remained at the summit
the rain fell in torrents, while a thousan'
feet down the mountain were neither cloud
nor rain.
OUR EARLY HOME.
From the White Mountains we came t.
my native town, in Windsor county. 1h
hills and the old homestead were there, am
some of the old farmsteads in the neighboI
hood had scarcely changed. But where wer
the people Most of them who in ouryoutt
full days were the stay and support Of CON
munity, in their sturdy manhood, have foun
rest from their rural tolls in the homes O
|
once familiar scenes thoughts crowd upo
the mind with suggestions, whose intel
change with some old valued friend woul
) afford feast Of reason or affection but the
comes a sad reminder that that friend is n
more. So with the changes of life and tn
work Of death, the soul can but sing the n
frain of earth's fading memories and depar
. ing years. The blithesome melodies OF on
I Young days have charms for other heart
than ours. The very instincts OF our natul
+ constrain us TO treasure up the memorials {
\ the buried past. Under such influence "
Z are constrained to seek the memorials of OF
departed friends and OF those whose nam'
+ have come down TO us in the traditions {
! our fathers. SO influenced, sought for IL
7 first time in my life, the grave OF one wi
I. preceded my mother in the interests OF n
e fathers domestic home. In an outway plac
4. in wild pasture land, | found a little hi
y lock filed with the nameless graves of Il
Z earliest settlers of the town. But three
Z these graves were marked with humb
y headstones. One was at the grave | sougf
n with this inscription" Grace s., wife
{. Paul s., died February 9th, 1902, aged
e years" This is now all of her written hi
!, tory. Tradition in the household has, ho'
! ever, told us that she left her first born chill
y few days old, to the care of strangers b
!, | who shall tell us now of the joyous hop
v that crowned her bridal days. her int
'e est in summer flowers; her deep wrong
A, sympathies, inspired by autumn scent
= = and the sad and desolate presentiments
Ie her winter grave No heart now throbs
ID life that sympathized with the joys or sc
y rows of her maiden days No one can t
si us now if she were child of Jesus; if q
a. stars shining down at night into the lit
es clearing in this, then forest land, inspir
he her reverence for Him aboue the stars, who
& inspiration is the light of life-who liy
le above the clouds, and reigns and bless
~ man forevermore.
n So the memories Of the dead depart vi
IL the diving, and oblivion becomes the blal
ns ns page in the chronicles of humble life.
le, The mound of earth SO nicely raised oy
70 this precious dust, and so nicely sodded, h
q fallen in below the grass plot round it. +
seventy years this spot has scarcely be
visited. If flowers were planted there, tn
have long since faded, and left no trace
.. beauty or ornaments of the bed of death.
But the silent dead of far-gone yea
teach us of the vanities of life; of the fri
ties of human hopes, centering in this worl
.. of the fate of our plans of day and
utter oblivion that will blot out our recc
of fancied distinction. In a single cent?
the humble masses die out from the recC
4, Of time How vain is our pride in {
names, our lives or our ancestry, ii we h'
a. n 4