Puslapio vaizdai
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enraged at the complaints made of his ravenous appetite and ungovernable passions, fell upon Mr. Freeman and his companion and murdered them both. He was tried, and hanged for the crime the follow

ing year. It was upon this occasion

that Mr. Sutherland's services were sought.

At the time of Mr. Sutherland's ministry in Bath, the support of the church was part of the business of the town. Of the salary voted him in Town Meeting he never received more than three-fourths of the stipulated sum, as he declined. to take anything from those who favored other denominations than the Congregational, and from those who were unwilling or unable to pay. Indeed if it came to his ears that any had paid grudgingly, he actually returned to them the sums they had paid. If it had not been. for a small property brought to him by his wife, he declared he would have been reduced to absolute poverty. Yet when he had ministered in the town twenty years, he went into Town Meeting and asked to have his salary reduced, giving as his reason that as produce had fallen in value, it might not be convenient for many to pay the sums assessed upon them.

From 1833 to 1843 there were in Bath four churches, and all were well filled on Sundays. Christmas. was ignored as a relic of Popery, but on Fast Days and Thanksgivings every human being went to church. This deep interest in religion had not wholly passed in my own childhood. It seems to me now that the atmosphere at that time was composed of three elements-religion, education, and oxygen with an immense difference in stress-ponderously on the first; a little less on the second; and none at all on the third, which was furnished by nature, and to which no thought was given.

The highest civil office held by an

inhabitant of Bath was that of Member of Congress, two men having served in the House of Representatives-Mr. James H. Johnson,two terms, and Mr. Harry Hibbard, three terms. Mr. Hibbard was a lawyer prominent in his profession, and an intimate friend of Franklin Pierce. Upon the accession of Pierce to the Presidency, Mr. Hibbard was tendered several positions, including a seat on the Supreme Bench of the State-all of which he refused on account of ill health.

I well remember the visit paid to Mr. Hibbard by the ex-President. The great man attended church and bowed his head in prayer. A Puritan stands upright when he prays. Few, if any, in the little church had ever seen a head bowed, and the matter was discussed. Some were of the opinion that reverence held no part in the inclination, and that the visitor was simply overcome by a slight faintness from which he soon recovered.

The highest judicial office ever held by an inhabitant of Bath was that of Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of the State-an honor conferred upon Andrew Salter Woods, the first native of Bath to practice law.

The first physician came to Bath in 1790-Doctor Isaac Moore. Many others practised in the town for longer or shorter periods. Though all were successful, the most beloved and those who remained longest were Doctor John French, who came from Landaff in 1822; and William Child, a native of the town who died in 1918, aged eighty-four. Doctor Child served as surgeon in the Civil War, and witnessed the assasination of President Lincoln. Bath for many years was noted for the ability and number of its lawyers, at one time no less than thirteen dwelling within its limits.

The most prominent family in the village was that of Moses Paul

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was a classical scholar, and familiar. with the buildings of antiquity. He knew the Parthenon, every line in which, by actual measurement, is a curve. The expression of his taste is seen in the beautiful arched doors and central windows, the curves in the facade, the stairway, and interior partitions. Mrs. Payson was a woman of great personal beauty, charming in manner, and a gracious hostess. Of their five children only one reached middle life, and no lineal descendants are now living.

After the Paysons the next owner and occupant of the house Arthur Livermore, son of the fam


modern appliances, and building a porch around it. For nearly forty years after his family left it, the house was unoccupied. It has now been restored, and is used as a hotel.

Other interesting old buildings in Bath are the Brick Store, symmetrical in construction and formerly lighted by large windows, each containing sixty-four small square panes of glass, and the brick houses at The Upper Village in the English style of archecture. Two families prominent at The Upper Village for many years were the Hutchins and Goodall families. Of the (former, Arthur Hutchins was conspicuous

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revive is not to be expected. But the beautiful sites for cottages on all the roads leading out from the village, the lovely views, the springs of pure water on almost every hillside, the easy accessibility of all points of interest in the White

Mountains, and the hospitality of the inhabitants, lead to a not unreasonable expectation that the township in the near future will be the summer home of many people of moderate means.


By J. L. McLane, Jr.

(Charles MacVeagh Jr. was lost in a snow-storm on the
slopes of the Mountain, February Fourteenth, 1920.)

Oh brooding presence of unchanging rest,
Broad-shouldered Titan of primordial age,
With thrushes singing at your leafy breast
And hills and hamlets clustered at your knees-
Slow-sloping summit cloaked about with trees,
What portion have you in Time's heritage?
What fetters bind your giant limbs of stone,
Sinister Shadow, that you brood alone,
All unattended in your lonely state-
Sentinel of a realm inviolate?

Was it because he loved you that you drew
His spirit to you? Was it jealous pride
Of his fleet-footed beauty as he grew

Sweeter and stronger, that you called him hence,
Wounding our hearts with wonder when he died
In your unyielding snows dumb innocence?
I cannot think that it was otherwise

Than that you knew he loved you! Did you know
That he was wearied of life's gilded lies-
Earth's promises that cheat us as the dew
Gathered from cobwebs by the hands of Day?
Surely for this you called his heart away

Up to the slopes he loved, the heights he knew

Could bring him healing! For his hurt heart found

In that last silence, that white hush of snow,

A way to further, finer life...... Profound,

Dark to my searching eyes your shadows grow:
An ultimate enigma that will stay

Sure with his love, until Death calls away

A heart less noble and a soul less clear

Into those starry, pathless realms he entered without fear.

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