USA > Maine > Oxford County > Bethel > History of Bethel : formerly Sudbury, Canada, Oxford County, Maine, 1768-1890, with a brief sketch of Hanover and family statistics > Part 30
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This day is an important event in the history of this town, and when the year of our Lord one thousand nine hundred and seventy- four rolls round, though scarcely a dwelling now existing may remain as a land-mark of the past, yet progress will be stamped all over its surface, and our names and the names of our fathers will be held in grateful remembrance by those who shall celebrate the next centennial of Bethel.
Mr. President, I want to live one century from to-day, and see what changes will have occurred in the world's progress. I want to see how this town will look at that time. I want to see what discoveries have been made in science, what inventions in the arts, what advancement in human culture, in virtue and happi- ness. Some present may yet have grandchildren who will witness and read the annals of a century yet unborn. It is a grand thought, on which we cannot expatiate, but must leave the problem of man's highest destiny to be wronght out by future generations.
Farewell to the great Past, and welcome to the great unknown Future ! May that kind Providence which has watched over our fathers still hover over their sons and daughters to remote generations.
Prof. Henry Leland Chapman of Bowdoin College then read the Centennial Poem as follows :
When Jacob, with his father's blessing crowned,
Went forth toward Haran-'mong whose flocks he found
That Rachel, for whose sake he patient wrought
Twice seven years and gained the love he sought- His steps upon a certain place did light, And tarried, so the Scripture saith, all night ; His heart, perchance, went forward in its quest, His feet were weary, and they needed rest. Wild was the spot the foot-sore pilgrim chose, Most fit to urge, but scarce to give repose ; Thick-strewn with stones, and frigid 'neath the reign Of utter silence, lay that eastern plain, Where mother earth so stern and cold did keep, How could she lull a tired child to sleep ? The shadows deepened, and the pilgrim lone Sought his hard couch, and, from the pillowing stone, Saw the slow step of night, and in the sky Her twinkling footprints as she glided by.
PROF. HENRY L. CHAPMAN.
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HISTORY OF BETHEL.
What though, indeed, the stones that formed his bed Gave little comfort to his weary head ! He saw the solemn beauty of the skies, And peace and rest fell on his closing eyes. And thus he slept ; when, lo ! a fairer sight Broke through the shadows of the silent night ; Floated his senses on a noiseless stream Touched with the radience of a heavenly dream.
A ladder rose, whose countless rounds of light Wearied the dreamer's upward-climbing sight ; From earth to heaven it stretched-a glorious way, From shades of night to realms of endless day. And angels walked thereon, whose shining feet Came tripping down in eager haste to greet The sleeping pilgrim, in whose quest of love The angel host did sympathize above. And where the mystic ladder pierced the sky, Shrouded in light, and clothed in majesty, Appeared the Lord of heaven and earth supreme, Whose gracious accents crowned the blissful dream. "Lo, I am with thee ! and my love shall trace The path that leads thee from thy resting-place ; Thy father's God am I, and Abraham knew My gracious guidance, and to Jacob, too, I promise all the riches of this land, And ceaseless blessings from my open hand. Yea, like the dust of earth thy seed shall be, In number countless ; and all eyes shall see It spread from North to South, from East to West, "Till all the families of the earth are blessed In thee, who takest here thy needed rest."
O mortals, weary with the cares That round your pathways throng, The hardest resting-place may be The fittest ground for song.
The feet that falter not, tho' faint, May reach, at setting sun, A spot more rugged than the road With which the day begun ;-
The head no softer pillow find Than the unyielding stone, The shadows gather round a soul That weary is, and lone ;
But heaven consoles whom earth afflicts, And opens wide its gates, To him, who, reckless of the road, On duty ever waits ;
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And ministers of love descend With healing on their wings, And in sweet visions of the night Reveal celestial things ;
And, best of all, the voice of God Falls on his ravished ear, And sleep grows sweeter at his words Of hope, and peace, and cheer.
When morning kissed the earth with lips of light, And won it from the cold embrace of night, Jacob, refreshed, arose, with heart serene, And eyes still radiant from the vision seen. And now his feet were eager to depart, But lingered at the prompting of his heart. The place was sacred ; he had known it not, Yet God was here, and graciously had wrought Such wonders, and to him such visions given, It seemed none other than the gate of heaven. The wilderness had blossomed ; and its name Henceforth was Bethel-chosen word to frame Its sacred memories.
Then, that other days Might read the glad memorial of his praise, He reared the stone on which his head had lain, And journeyed onward in his quest again.
So we, whose eyes have seen, whose ears have heard How here the desert blossomed, hail that word, And in this newer Bethel joyful raise A simple, heartfelt monument of praise To Him, whom Jacob saw, and whom we know, By all the wonders of his love below.
A hundred years ! Their light and shade A wondrous web have wrought ; The eyes that watched, through smiles and tears, The shuttle's flight in by-gone years, Perchance some glimpses caught, But tarried not, nor saw the plan That through the widening texture ran.
A hundred years ! The mellow ray Of history o'er us streams, Pierces the darkness, and displays The garnered light of vanished days ; As one, who, lost in dreams, Sees gleams of glory through the skies, And wonders whence they take their rise.
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HISTORY OF BETHEL.
A hundred years ! Their stately steps Fell on no mortal ear ; Yet, gathering in this honored place, The tell-tale footprints we can trace, That marked their progress here ; And here a monument we raise, In memory of departed days.
Our verses with our thoughts will chime, And wander to that distant time Which fills our fancy, flees our sight, Half-hidden in the hazy light That tells of day, but hints of night. In Sudbury Canada we stand ; Above us tower the stately trees, Which, stirred by every passing breeze, Make murmurous music thro' the land. Far from the thoroughfares of trade, Remote from all the noise of men, A spot of calm and sweet repose, Save where the gurgling streamlet flows Along some mossy-haunted glen That flickers with soft light and shade ; Or where the Androscoggin pours Its tide, impatient for the sea, Or, with a sound like minstrelsy, Loiters along its shaded shores. The forest, whose vast realms of shade Hide homes that to the birds belong, Spreads a green canopy o'erhead, All interlaced with threads of song ; Beneath the tiny wild-flower shows Its petals, moist with lingering dew, That trembling stays, and swiftly goes Whene'er the sunlight trickles through. And through the silence and the shade That hover o'er this sylvan scene, Among the giant trunks that show Long vistas of repose between, The timid hare fears not to take Its halting leaps, with awkward grace, Nor rifle shot presumes to wake The sleeping echoes of the place ; Only the red man's stealthy tread Falls noiseless on the yielding ground, Whose arrow to its mark hath sped Unerring, with no tell-tale sound. Here, Beauty dwells, and Silence sweet, In nature's undisturbed retreat.
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HISTORY OF BETHIEL.
The scene hath changed ; the white man's eyes Have rested on this lovely spot ; And lo ! his feet have tarried not To follow and possess the prize. With patient toil his arm doth wield The glittering axe, and where it falls The ancient trees unwilling yield, And form his rude but sheltering walls.
And day by day the sunlight looks Upon a slowly changing scene, And, searching out the hidden nooks, Of which, in other days, it sought A moment's glimpse, and gained it not, It lingers lovingly and late, And comes again-and while we wait To count its visits, lo, its sheen, Hath clothed the nooks with living green.
The sturdy pioneers, whose toil Doth thus transform the virgin soil, Dwell not, meanwhile, secure from fear ;
In every rustling leaf they hear The footstep of the stealthy foe ; In every storm that mutters low, In every gale that shrieks, and fills With nameless dread the gathering gloom,
They hear his war-cry, and their doom Re-echoed from the circling hills. A sense of danger broods around, And clothes with dread each slightest sound : Prompting the hearts that feel the stress Of danger, linked with loneliness, To seek the comfort and the aid That lie within a neighbor's hand ; And, straightway, through the forest shade, The conscious want a path hath planned, And notched the trees on either side- A simple, but unerring guide To him who seeks, in peace or war, A neighbor's house that stands afar. Along the lines. thus faintly traced, The postman rides, with ringing horn, Or Doctor, whose impatient haste Tells plainly, ere the day be passed, That some one will be dead-or born. Thus lives, 'mid changing hope and fear, The stalwart, steadfast pioneer. Slowly he conquers ; slowly yields The sullen wood to smiling fields ; But, dauntless still, he bides the fates, And patient works-and working waits.
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HISTORY OF BETHEL.
Again the scene hath changed ; and fair The meadows stretch ; with peace the air Is laden ; and the kind earth yields The bounty of her fruitful fields. Gone is the wilderness ! and where It stood, behold the homes of men, And bustle where repose hath been. But why this later change rehearse In cold and inexpressive verse ? Behold the beauties that before you rise, Bethel herself salutes your wondering eyes.
O ye, whose wandering feet retrace to-day The path that led you from these scenes away, Within whose breasts, wherever you may roam, The faith still lives, that points to childhood's home, We bid you hail ! The old-time charm still dwells Upon these meadows, in these shady dells ; The sunlight gilds, with all its ancient grace, The winsome beauties of your native place ; Still Bethel sits, a queen, in modest pride, And calls her willing subjects to her side.
We bow, most gracious sovereign, at thy feet ; Our loving lips thy garment's hem would greet- Our age renew the love that childhood gave, Our loyal hearts thy benediction crave, Our eyes thy crown of beauty view once more, That thrilled our senses in the days of yore ; And ere the setting sun bids us away, Our heartfelt wishes at thy feet we'd lay.
Long be thy reign among thy native hills ! The peace unbroken which thy valleys fills ; The river, rushing onward to the sea, Bring verdure on its dancing waves to thee ; The stately mountains, like grim sentries, stand To guard thy sunny fields on every hand ; Within the bosom of each wandering son The pride be steadfast which thy charms have won. Dwell thou in peace, secure of all our love, And crowned with countless blessings from above.
After the poem a blessing was invoked by the Rev. William Warren, D. D., and the great crowd repaired to the tables assigned to the different districts. Such a sight as was presented here was never before witnessed in Bethel. Every kind of food, of ancient and modern times, made the tables fairly groan with their burden. Everybody was invited to come and bring their friends with them. They all ate and were filled.
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HISTORY OF BETHEL.
Hon. Enoch Foster, toast master, read the following toasts :
"The State of Maine, ever true to her motto : May her sons and her daughters everywhere do honor to her principles by their industry, intelligence and virtue."
Responded to by Hon. Sidney Perham, ex-Governor of Maine.
Mr. President : I rise to respond to the sentiment just offered under more than ordinary embarrassment. It is always embarrass- ing to stand before an audience in a place that has been assigned to another, but for an ex-Governor-one who has been dropped from the calendar of living government-to attempt to fill the place of the real live one, is especially so. To this audience it will be like bringing out and attempting to adjust to one's person an old gar- ment that has been laid aside for years. It is old style-out of fashion-ill fitting, and can never be worn as satisfactorily as one made especially for the present time. It affords me great pleasure to meet so many of the sons and daughters of Bethel on this deeply interesting and very pleasant occasion. I congratulate you in the prosperity that has marked all the interests of the good town of Bethel since the first settlement within her borders. Many pleasant memories of Bethel rise before me whenever I visit your beautiful village.
Thirty-six years ago my parents sent me to the academy here, giving me twenty dollars to pay the cost of board, tuition, and in- cidental expenses for one term. This sum I found sufficient, though but little could be appropriated for incidentals. It costs more now, as those who have children to educate have occasion to know. I boarded in the family of Capt. Grout, who lived just this side of the present location of the depot. I have some vivid recollections of mince pies and doughnuts, of the apple tree in the little orchard near the house which I visited every night and morning, and of the ride I took one day on an island in your river on the back of a wild colt, and what came of it. I do not recollect so distinctly as to the progress made in my studies, though it was such that a school agent. in one of the adjoining towns offered me nine dollars a month to teach a winter school in an unfinished room of an old farm-house. But I am talking at random. I had almost forgotten that I was called to the stand to respond for the State of Maine. In common with this whole audience, I regret that our excellent Chief Magis- trate has been prevented by other duties from being present and speaking for the State, over whose interests he so acceptably presides.
What can I say of the State of Maine that is not known to every person in this large assemblage? I might point you to our rivers, that take their rise in our northern forests, and fed by immense lakes, whose waters can be used in time of need, and until mid- summer, by melting snow, furnish, in their descent to the ocean,. facilities for manufacturing operations unequalled in the country ;.
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to our safe and capacious harbors, sufficient to accommodate all the. commerce and the navies of the world ; to our extensive shipping interests ; to our forests of wood and timber; to our fisheries ; to our inexhaustible quarries of granite, slate and lime, yielding already a large income, which is rapidly increasing ; to our ice, which has become an important and profitable article of export ; and last, though not least, to our men and women, who honor not only the State of their birth, but every other State in the Union. To all these and many other reasons for honest pride in the State we love most of all, I might call your attention at length. But little of it would be new to you, and the time will be better occupied by those who will follow me.
We stand to-day amidst the scenes that mark the progress of a century from the settlement of your town. What changes have been wrought. What joys and sorrows have been experienced, what hopes and fears have been realized, what progress has been made in these hundred years, I will not attempt to recount. The occasion is opportune for a review of the past, and a glance at the possibilities of the future. But I must not longer occupy your time. The road over which the next hundred years will take us, is wisely covered with mist and shadows that intercept our vision. But, gathering wisdom from the experience of the past, let us apply it to. the duties of the present, and go forward in the hope that whatever vicissitudes await us, our pathway will lead us upward and nearer to the realization of our noblest aspiration.
"Our Elder Sister, Fryeburg: She cherished us in our infancy, and we honor her in her maturity."
Responded to by D. R. Hastings, Esq., of Fryeburg.
"The Clergy of Bethel : Like a good Mason they strive to lay a solid foundation on which to erect a superstructure that cannot be- easily shaken."
Responded to by Rev. Javan K. Mason of Thomaston.
Mr. President, ladies and gentlemen of Bethel, and of other towns and cities whom this occasion has brought hither : To decline speak- ing to such a sentiment as the one just uttered, I should be untrue to my own instincts. To be present "on my native heath again," environed by these hills, familiar to my boyhood's look and tread as- to any boyhoods' since ; overarched by the same sky that in my childhood I looked upon and wondered at so often. Thrilled by the memories which these faces and our historian of to-day have re- called, and remain silent, would involve a wrong to my instinctive promptings to be ashamed of forever. The clergy of Bethel have done good foundation work. Its Masonry will outlive time itself. The superstructure erected in institutions, industries, enterprises of different kinds, in the intelligence, taste and character everywhere.
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evinced, is a monument to be proud of. Incomplete, indeed, to-day, but rising higher, and rising ever ; to present more beautiful pro- portions until the glintings of yonder sun on these forest-clad mountain slopes shall cease ; the river fail of its winding way ; the sky become starless, and all this charm of nature sketched by artist, and admired by lovers of the beautiful, from city and town near and remote, yield to another fiat of creative power. The monument complete will then remain in all its chief essentials. Truth, princi- ples compacted, dovetailed by these "workmen needing not to be ashamed," will stand. The "lively stones" built thereon will be as enduring as eternity. To have had a succession of such ministers of religion as have lived and wrought here from the earliest settle- ment of the town, has been a blessing difficult to overestimate. Many of them liberally educated, and so prepared and earnest to care for the mental as well as the moral and spiritual welfare of the people. Our historian has just enumerated and characterized them, giving you an index of the kind, amount and success of the work they did. I may not, therefore, particularize to any extent, lest I seem to be invidious. Still, I love in fancy to run up the years of the century, and look in at the old steep-roofed mansion of " Priest Gould," (as "sinners" used to name the first settled minister), and see the youth, inspired by his love of letters, grappling with sturdy will, principles underlying all thorough education and mental disci- pline. That mansion known to me only as the home of "Dr. Grover," once a pupil in it-long time after, the owner of it-had for me a charm and commanded my boyhood's reverence as no other ever did. Not for the minister's sake who lived there long before I was born, but for the doctor's sake, who not only dealt out to me more physic than all other doctors, but did more to excite in me the desire for an education, and to help me .gratuitously in my incipient beginnings with Greek and Latin roots, than any other. I see him now, massive head, hair erect. face radiant with pleasure at my success, or frame shaking all through at my blunders in trans- lation, somehow, meanwhile awakening an enthusiasm in me, and my then classmate (Gov. Grover of Oregon), which, I trust, has experienced no abatement to this day. The "Parson's" influence on him and others lived and was perpetuated. Others of the clergy who succeeded were not slow to recognize the same need, and ineet it. Hence it has been that Bethel has sent out more educated men and women-many of them distinguished Christians, several minis- ters of different denominations,-than any other town in the county, and more than any other town in the State of equal population.
The times have changed ; the work of the clergy in its essentials is the same as always, yet more multiform and varied in its needful adaptations ; the men engaged in it to-day not a whit behind those of former years ; as indispensable to the uprearing superstructure as the earlier to the laying of good foundations. That you appre- ciate the sentiment, I have no doubt. That the Bible you have been taught to cherish in your homes and in your hearts ; whose principles your children have been nursing with their mother's milk ;
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whose influence underlies all good government ; secures the purity and safety of society ; sanctifies every home that is worthy the name of home ; and whose light makes the pathway of life plain, and reveals glimpses of the great beyond that cheer amid many a trial and conflict, heightening, too, many a joy by the way ; that this old Bible, dear, precious, God-given, is and is to be talismanic, not only in its power to protect from evil, but to bless with positive good, you have learned to believe with all your heart.
The century from which we step into the coming to-day, and desire to leave here in these services and festivities, our latest track, has been one of great changes in church and State; in letters and science ; in practicalizing theories and utilizing forces. The march has been onward, not backward and downward, as some misan- thropes have thought and insisted, and so preached that nothing but a miracle could turn the current ; nothing but the Omnipotent hand by sheer, sovereign act, could arrest and turn back the de- structive drift of human kind. The march has been onward and upward. The years have been rolling up new or increased light, and the day is brightening. The sun, some of whose rays the prophets saw, and which in his rising the shepherds of Bethlehem rejoiced at the sight of, has been ascending toward the zenith, flood- ing the earth more and more, sending his blessings into dark places and despairing hearts, assuring the already believing, and convinc- ing the skeptical that the promise is on the eve of fulfilment when "the earth shall be filled with His glory as the waters fill the sea." That croaking that sees nothing good but in the past, that sees nothing but premonitions of a coming destruction in these upheavals in society ; these clamorings of philosophy and developments of science ; these utilization of all natural forces seemingly shaped toward material ends, may do for a raven's maw, or swell the melody of an owlet's song, but they shall not disturb us here to-day. Ours is a faith that looks before and reaches its hand to one that leads and lifts to clearer visions and purer joys. Old truths remain, affecting and underlying every relation and every hope, but these shall brighten and others be seen clustering about them, adding brilliancy, beauty and glory, until we shall see that God's plan universal, is one grand, symmetric whole, and that the accomplish- ment of it is as benevolent and wise as it is certain.
When invited a few weeks ago by your committee to prepare the historic address for this occasion, I considered myself honored as I have seldom been, since a young man, I went out from you to the battle of life. The honor of the invitation I appreciated, but the honor of standing here as your historian, I was obliged to decline, because it rightfully belonged to another. No man could do it as gracefully and well as he. No other man, with my consent, should deprive him of the honor. No other could have earned and worn so rightfully the laurels with which you crown him to-day. True-born, a True man ! skilled in historic lore as well as scientific research ; an educating chief, whom Bethel will never forget nor her sons and daughters, near or afar, cease to remember with love and respect.
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Friends, this is the last time. The old century has faded, and with it many dear to you and me have faded and fallen and they sleep among the silent. Peace be to their ashes! The future is hastening up, bidding us, too-"make haste,"-gird well for the conflict ! there is battle ahead ! Earnest, and achieving work for the world we live in ! "The night cometh !" Some of you are already at the sunset hour ! One more effort ; one more look of faith ; one more inspiration of hope, and the reward shall come ! Some of us will have a little longer, and some have just begun-are in life's morning.
To such let me say, regard you the sentiment uttered here just now by our worthy ex-Governor, "religion, education and labor are at the foundation of all good government, and of all local and indi- vidual prosperity." The sentiment is true. The world has come to believe it. Twenty nations of Europe, by their representatives, and as many States of our own have incorporated it as a principle into their platform of penal reform. In that Congress of Nations, in the city of London in 1872, to which your honorable Governor sent me a commissioner, the sentiment was discussed and urged in its broadest scope and minutest bearings, and incorporated in the special platform by unanimous vote. So the nations are beginning to "see eye to eye." The forces are concentrating. Old differ- ences are vanishing. Opinions and purposes in regard to vital achievements and reforms are harmonizing. And it is true, thank God it is true, that instruments like this I now lift in your sight, a sword that did service in the war of the revolution, resulting in our national independence, will be "beat into plowshares and spears into pruning hooks." May you and I be co-operators in the work that shall result in such a consummation ! Now, let me say, Fare- well ! citizens, friends, all. Let your future, as your past, show that you are not unmindful of the foundations, or those working at them, or the superstructure that is erecting. A good masonry is needed all the way up, until the top stone with shouting is secure.
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