Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1883-01-09

On one Of those breathless and dre.mv
days of October. when nature seems to lie
entranced with delicious reverie, stood in
the dome of the capitol of the State of Maine.
at Augusta, and gazed upon a landsc,ne
peaceful and lovely enough to satisfy anv
ane outside of paradise.
The long clusters of DWELLINGS belov
peeped through the empowering rows ~
many-tinted trees that almost hid them
from sight In every direction. as far AZ
the eye could reach, spread away . piano.
rama Infinitely varied In the charm of roll
ing modulations, its endless interminol;no
OF bill and hollow, slope and level and curve
sprinkled everywhere with mills and mead.
ows and homesteads and lakes and stream.
while high over all the mighty dome Of
heaven silently held the blue eternity of it.
protection.
Behind me, on Winthrop Hill, under MANY
pillared monument and many a plain grave.
stone, slept the restful and oblivious dead.
Below, little way of. on the sw arded square
IN the busy heart of the city, stood the up-
lifted memorial of the martyred soldiery of
the Rebellion, its proud list of sculptured
names glistening in the sunlight, and its
marvellous bronze pictures of the enlistment
and departure from the rural home. of tn.
battle, and of the glorious but imperfect
return of the survivors, telling more power
fully than speech the whole story of that
sublime and awful crisis of the nation.
In front. the granite arsenal reposed on
the green lawn across the river between the
delicate tracery of earthly foliage beneath
and of heavenly cloud above. The sudden
boom OF the sunsetgun shook the ground
and startled all the echoes of the region. its
spectral wreaths of smoke curling slowly up
and fading away in the invisible air, while
the reverberations family undnlated to the
submits of the hills, and spilled over the
still rim Of the horizon into infnity.
In the rear. to the right. the TANKS of the
wide uplands, all clad with aboriginal forest
and ascending to the sky, lay exposed in the
full glory of the autumnal ripeness, the
gorgeous shower and blaze of hues and tints
seeming as if on the surface of that sylvan
sea wilderness of transfusing rainbows had
shed their scarfs as they passed, or as if in
that ocean of foliage millions of dolphins had
died and left their colors as they sank.
Farther in front, down the beautiful
bosom and bend of the valley, against the
crooking elbow of Hallowell, between the
farms and hamlets that cover its slopes on
either side and climb away far up toward
heaven from its banks, glided the silvery
Kennebec, seeing the sea,-the placid mirror
of its surface unruffled by a ripple, save
where fish jumped at a careless insect.
And this exquisite scene was the home of
liberty, fit setting for the lives of an intelli-
gent, prosperous, happy yeomanry, with no
wrongs or hardships imposed on them by
irresponsible power.
1t was an enhancing picture, an enchant-
ed hour, to be associated with the hottest
sentiments of natural piety and patrstic
devotion while memory lasts. For not only
do we grow tenderer and purer and deeper,
but we also become more pervaded with
faith and peace, as we gaze on the beauty Of
the world, and feel in the melodious vibra-
ton of the elemental chords of nature the
harmony of our personal being with univer-
sal being Register.