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��SOCIAL CHANGES IN NEW HAMPSHIRE.
��The people then settled their ministers by vote of the town. The clergy in that day literally indoctrinated their people. Religious periodicals were unknown. Societies for the diffusion of useful or re- ligious knowledge were very rare. Dog- matic theology was more diligently, and, to use an old term, "painfully " preached than at present. The church edifices were built " on every high hill." The custom arose, it is said, from the attacks of the Indians in Puritan times. From these lofty eminences the enemy could be watched during divine service. These places of worship were large, barn- shaped buildings with a " porch " at each en,d, without warmth in winter, or venti- lation in summer, except from bi'oken panes of glass.* Public lectures were unknown. I well remember when Ab- ner Kneeland proclaimed his atheistical doctrines, in Boston, a thrill of horror ran through every thoughtful mind in New England. Since that day, under the specious name of " philosophy ," the same pantheistic doctrines have been trundled on rails into every large village and city in the country, and have been kindly received, as a sugar-coated alter- ative for the common mind, from the lips of Theodore Parker and others. Such theories were not discussed in the news- papers of the day, fifty years ago. The atheist, infidel or universalist was obliged to have a special organ to repre- sent his peculiar sentiments. Such were " then " the people of New Hampshire in practice and theory. They worked hard to subdue an uncongenial soil and re- ceived but limited returns for their labor. A boy of ten or twelve years of age was expected to do half aman's work, besides a multitude of ' chores' 1 in the morning and evening. Three months of the year
��* About 1710, the parishioners of Rev. Timothy Edwards, father of Jonathan, agitated the subject of building a new church at Windsor. Conn. A parishioner wrote a poem— here is a part.
" One other reason yet there is
Tne which I will unfold, How many of us suffer much
Both by the heat and cold.
It is almost four milds
Which some of lis do go, Upon God's holy Sabbath day,
In times of frost and snow."
��were given to the district school ; and one reader, v with the New Testament, one arithmetic and one grammar consti- tuted the boy's library. Now, the vari- ous series of books, with new studies, in- crease the number of text-books ten-fold, without materially increasing the knowl- edge of the learner. Work, hard, ex- hausting work, was the law of the farm boy's life, and play the rare exception. The ends of my fingers, even now, seem to tingle from the u wear and tear" of stone-picking during cold April days, when I worked alone with no friend near but my little dog.
That discipline was my salvation. La- bor and study occupied all my time. I was thus guarded against temptation, evil companionship and reckless prodi- gality. Work, my young friends, work with your own hands, if you would se- cure a sound mind in a sound body, and enjoy the highest fruits of the best edu- cation. Work, young ladies, with your own hands if you would grow old grace- fully.
" How to be beautiful when old?
I can tell you, maiden fair — Not by lotions, dyes and pigments,
Not by washes for your hair.
While you're young, be pure and gentle, Keep your passions well controlled;
Walk and work and do your duty, You'll be handsome when you're old."
I know that the current of fashion rnns counter to this advice, for since my boy- hood society has undergone a complete social revolution. The w r orld moves. Where is the world in which I was born? With increased wealth have come its con- stant attendants, luxury and indolence. Boys in the first families live for play, girls for show, and the parents for pleas- ure. Farm labor, the most useful, healthful and moral on earth, has been exchanged for the more exciting em- ployments of the shop, the factory and the railroad. In the rural districts of our State which the railroads have not reached, the old homesteads are fast fall- ing into decay ! Labor in the kitchen has become unfashionable. Spining and weaving are obsolete ideas. The piano has usurped the place of the wheel, and worsted work has supplanted the loom. " It is undeniable," says Prentice, " that
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