Bohemian Society | Page 2

men, young
maidens, happy matrons and rosy children assembled together in their
quaint old fashioned dress, simple in the extreme, listening to the
teaching of their minister.
Their amusement and pleasures were simple with no unnatural craving
after excitement. The ever changing sky and clouds; the mists on the
mountain top; the purple hills and yellow waving grain; the running
brook; all these were sources of pleasure and amusement. To a few, the
world out side the valley, the numerous conjectures as to the people
who inhabited it, gave food for thought.
At eventide the sun is setting, throwing a golden glow over the valley,
from a cottage near is heard the cradle song of some happy mother
lulling her child to sleep; in the distance can be heard the tinkling cow
bell, and on the purple hill side the sheep have lain down to rest. The
sun has gone down a little lower and the shadows of the mountains
have lengthened until they stretch almost across the valley; the sounds
of life have almost ceased; the child is asleep and the lullaby ended; the
tinkling of the bells is scarcely heard; the birds have gone to their nests,
and up from the valley has risen a white mist that has hidden and
completely covered the last sign of life. Surely a beautiful covering for
such a valley, a fitting mantle for so pure a people.
* * * * *
The morning broke dull and cloudy over the last happy day of the
peaceful valley.
A stranger from the outer world, about which they had speculated so
much, appeared in their midst. Seeking a number of young men he soon
engaged them in earnest conversation, arousing their curiosity by
telling them of the strange and wonderful things which transpired in the
world beyond the mountains; telling them of the wonderful discoveries
of science; the fame of many brilliant men and women, telling them of
the advantages of communication with the outer world, of the
uselessness and folly of spending their lives in so simple a manner,
ridiculing their simplicity, telling them that the mere youths of his

country could teach the venerable grandsires of the valley things of
which they had never dreamed, telling of the advantages of extended
thought and education. After many days spent in persuasion, he gained
the consent of some to erect a large college which was immediately
begun. Some of the older ones shook their heads and asked each other
the question, "Were we not happy? What more can be required?" Thus
the first seeds of discord were sown where all had been harmony.
Laborers came from afar to aid in the erection of the college, and day
by day the work progressed and children stood and gazed in open-eyed
wonder at the place where they were to gain a world of information.
The work was finished; teachers came from foreign lands, masters of
languages, teachers of science, and metaphysicians to puzzle the heads
of the old and weary the brain of the young. Teachers of music with
massive organs for the music rooms of the college arrived, teachers of
piano and harp, all of which were a revelation to these simple people,
who could not conceive of any sweeter music than the song of the birds,
their mothers evening hymn or the soft sweet notes of the happy wife
as she crooned her babe to sleep. The children were sent to the college
and and in a short time the strife began, each one trying to excel the
other. No more time to study the effect of the misty mountain tops, no
more time to listen to the songs of the birds, for here within these four
walls were to be found and learned stranger things than they had ever
thought of. After a few years the youths who went to the old church
could scarcely be recognized. The same sweet welcome was given by
the old church bell but how changed were the people who assembled
together! Where all had been love and faith before, there was now
doubt and discord. For had they not dabbled in science? Some of the
more learned ones even whispered that the old clergyman should be
replaced by a younger man, one more advanced in culture and training.
True his head was bent and very grey, his hands shook and voice
trembled and at times it was almost difficult to understand him, his
prayer was so weak and broken. But at the bed-side of the sick he was
always welcome, the infirmities of age were forgotten there. For over
half a century he had held himself in readiness to attend the bedside of
all who might call upon him to speak cheering, hopeful words to the
dying.