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MY PHILOSOPHY. Bright things can nerer die,
E'en though thi• y fade;
Deathless were made;
Silence the night 1
Learea us the light.
Kind words can nerer die,
Cherished and blest;
Stored In the breast-
Distant and near,
God knows bow dear.
Childhood can never die—
Wrecks of the past Float on tbe memory
E'en to the last. Many a happy thing. Many a daisied spring, Flew, on Time's ceaseless wfng.
Far, far away; Childhood can never die, Saith my philosophy; Wrecks of our Infancy,
Live on for aye.
Sweet fancies nerer die.
They leare behind Some fairy legacy
Stored in tbe mind,— Soma bappy thought or dream. Pore as day's earliest beam, KisMng the gentle stream,
In the lone gladeYet, though these things put by, Bsith my philosophy, Bnpbt things can nerer die,
E'en though they fade.
Mr G H. Hollister, of Litchfield, has completed ■> Hiiiorj of Connecticut, from the commeocew«t of the Colony, down to the adoption of the I constitution. It is now in the bauds of the rncitn ud will be issued in a few days. We^ ^ that he has been engaged npou this work ""Ij fourteen years.
0t« in about such a period of time, the citizens 'i Slue—eipecially of a republic whose peculiar OHihmiserve to equalize family importance— "ike to a full sense of their historic character.— attieseuisea, other topics of general interest, met'■'i^iki, politics, the natural sciences and the fine l"Mrelaida«ide,antl the petty details of antiquarian '"irrh, the drudgery of collecting dumb meinen
""'fheroic memory,are pursued with poetic enthu1 am and interest. The political and metaphysical Knjdl are mercurial—swift of motion, eager for *slla, radicB] ,D(j incautious, while the historic are -ulstwe,consolidating, couservaliveand refining, •■'■he farmer we are indebted for the germinal el5t»UofcW»ctcr,to the latter, for whatever of sublet «od ripeness is attained. The uniform suf'orityof tbe citizens of a Republic, over those J "T other form of government, depends main^fwtbo frequency and extent of these crises.
Whatever may be said of the general intelligence of the New England people it is certainly true, that ior the last twenty-five years, their pride of personal culture has not extended to a know ledge of their own state history. This has been felt by the historical student to be u very great educational defect, for we are indebted to a proper understanding of history for that conservative element of pure patriotism, that Blone can subdue the radical tendencies of republicanism and keep us affiliated in indissoluble bonds of union. The general w ant of interest, in this respect, grew out of the torpor that succeeded the feverish excitement of the two principal wars. But the lime has come for n reaction; the study of histnry is beginning to take the place of light reading, and especially the histnry of Ouk Own State, which, for bravery and herculean achievements is without a parallel, begins to be dear to the descendants of its actors. With this increasing interest comes the want of a 8tate history, and the appearance of such a work just at this lime, written by a gentleman of distinguished ability and scholarship, must be received by the State with becoming expressions of gratitude.
We have been favored with the perusal of some of the proof-sheets j>f Mr. Hollister's history, and we find him a very terse, concentrated writer. He expresses himself with the brevity and breadth at a poet; the subject has interested his moral perceptions; his heart has had a share in his words; and his book is as interesting as a story.
It was said of Gibbon, when his Rome first appeared, iu England, that he was ''too picturesque and didactic for a historian," but his subsequent reputation has showu that these qualities were virtues instead of faults iu his style. The historian is of no service to mankind, unless he is pre-eminently the preceptor, and he cannot serve iu this capacity until he has won the attention of his readers by the brilliancy and novelty of his pictures. Whether Mr. Hollister has had his eye on this distinguished author, or not, we cannot say, but there is much iu his grouping of incidents; in his reflections, and in the statement of bis views of men, that reminds us of him. We cheerfully recommend this work to the patronage of our readers.
We are permitted to publish the following extract —a brief statement of the character and public services of one of oar most distinguished men,
GOVERNOR JONATHAN TRUMBULL.
Pre-eminent»in the roll of our patriots and statesmen, stands the name of Jonathan Trumbull. His position as governor of the slate during the war, united with that rare combination of powers which made him second only to Washington in executive abilities, not second even to him in the maturity of his wisdom and the depth of his moral nature, and greatly his superior in intellectual culture, constituted him the principal character iu our colony and state during the period occupied by his administration. It is true of Trumbull, as of Washington, that the perfect symmetry of his character has induced many to lose sight of the vast scale on which it was constructed, and the elevation with which it towers above the level of other public nieu of that day.
At tin.' head of the little republic on the breaking out of the war, Trumbull was the only governor in all the colonies who had the courage and the firmness to make a stand against the tyranny of the British government. As before stated, he had indignantly refused to take an oath to execute the stamp act, or even to witness the degrading ceremony. During tbe period that transpired between
that day and the 19th of April, 1775, his convictions had been strengthened and his mind confirmed in the justice of the American cause. Hewasthepresiding genius of Connecticut during the whole conflict. Marshalling troops, providing munitions, superintending the financial department and the building of ships of war, perfecting the defences of the colony, purchasing cannon, muskets, clothing, and provisions for the army, sitting in council, advising with the General Assembly, writing letters to committees of safety, keeping up a constant correspondence with. Washington, composing state pupers, mastering the militia, listening tu the complaints of the soldiers us if they had been his children, and soothing them with soft words—in all departments, we fiud him the great central executive force to which Washington was drawn in the dark hours of that eight years' struggle. Did he need troops to swell the army at Cambridge, he called upon Trumbull; and reluctantly, and in spite of the solicitations of the people whom he governed, rather than disobey the commander-in-chief, he ordered the coa.stof Connecticut to be left unguarded, and the citizen soldiers to leave their homes to the mercy of the British invaders, and march into another colony. Did a British fleet threaten to invade New York, and tories boast that they would lay the city in ruins, Washington had only to write a letter to Trumbull, and troops were sent into the infected district, and the British ships were soon seen to spread their wings like scared birds of prey, and fly toward the south. Did thousands of British regulars at a later day, surround him, and seem about to overwhelm him? A requisition upon Trumbull brought to his aid fourteeu regiments of farmers, who obeyed the command of the chief magistrate whom they had themselves helped to elect, without a murmur, and returned, if they happened to survive, to vote for hiin agaiu. In still darker hours, when the genius of the American people drooped, and the hearts of the other colonies sank beneath the accumulated burden of severe campaigns, heavy taxes, and debts that had been piled on them like mountains; when even Washington doubted from what source another dollar could be raised to keep tbe army iu the field, he called upon Trumbull, and the siuews of war, strained till they were ready to crack, again recov ered their elasticity. Industrious, quiet, unselfish, trust-worthy—with a bead never giddy, however steep the precipiceupon which he stood, and a heart that kept all secrets confided to it as the deep wave holds the plummet that is dropped into its bosom— no wonder that Trumbull should have been selected by the first man of the world as his counselor nud companion, and no wonder that be called bim "brother."*
We are naturally led to inquire, what were the secret fountains that fed this pure life 1 They may be easily known by the bright verdure that springs up along their course as they wind through the quiet fields of unambitious boyhood. Long before he had ever turned his eye toward tbe high places of the world, before a war with England was dreamed of as a possible event, and while at Harvard, he was looking out upon life through that pleasant perspective glass, a young scholor's imagination, he was mature above bis years iu all that gives promise of future usefulness; and at the tender age when other boys are properly called children, and are occupied with sports that demand the exercise of little else than the blood that courses through their frame, tbe future statesman, iu company with a few kindred spirits, was framing a series of rules by which his moral nature and intellectual character might shape themselves into a mould of completeness that few men have ever attained, and a durability that is destined to defy the flight of years, as it resisted during his life time the temptations of the world.t
At that early day was laid the foundation of that gentleness and christian humility, that sweetness of temper, that serene confidence and cheerfulness in critical emergencies, and the unshaken purpose of soul, which marked hi in out as the fit man, and the only one, for tbe place of honor that was assigned him by his native state.
Trumbull's private character was no leas a model than his public life. His manners had none of the stiffness of official rank belonging to that day, but were sprightly, amiable, and unostentatious. He knew how to adapt himself to all classes of people, and always when at leisure had a lively, pleasant word to say to everybody who happened to be in his presence. He was remarkable for his quiet way of expressing his sentiments either in the council or in the drawing-room, and always spoke in a low tone.
In the midst of all his watchful cares, he never lost his love of letters, aud retained his knowledge of the dead languages with an unimpaired memory till he died. He habitually read the Bible in the original Hebrew and Greek, and never left ofl the studies of history and chronology, in which he particularly excelled. He was very regular and temperate in his habits, devoted to his family, and testified how much better he loved his home than he did any public station, by resigning his office as soon as the termination of the war allowed him to think of repose. He had another motive, too, for seeking retirement, which is touchingly expressed in his address to the General Assembly, wb/en he tendered to the people the office that he had held so long:
"Contemplating," he says, "with pleasing wonder and satisfaction, at the close of an arduons contest, the noble and enlarged scenes which now present themselves to my country's view; and reflecting at the same on my advanced stage of life—a life worn out, almost, in the constant cares of office —1 think it my duty to retire from the busy concern of public affairs; that at the evening of my days, I may sweeten their decline, by devoting myself with less avocation, and more attention to the duties of religion, the service of my God, and preparation for a future and happier state of existence; in which pleasing employment I shall not cease to remember my country, and to make it my ardent prayer, that heaven will not fail to bless her with its choicest favors."
The remainder of Trumbull's life was spent in exact accordance with the sentiments expressed in this passage. In the calm retreat where he had entertained princes and noblemen—where Washington sought him out to take counsel of him—in the circle of his family, and near the spot that he had selected for his grave, he awaited the flight of the friendly arrow that was to set him free. Though he watched it carefully, yet it came in secret, and at an unexpected hour. He was of such an even temperament and had such an excellent physical constitution, that his friends anticipated for him a lung life, ending in a slow and calm decline. But he was suddenly attacked by a fever, which might be said to be his first sickness and proved to be his last.— He died after an illness of about twelve days, during which he suffered much pain with a sweetness that made even death seem to be a protecting rather than a destroying angel. His reason was unclouded and his mind composed to the last. In the words of Mr. Ely, who preached bis fuueral sermon, "he had nothing to do but to die."
* The. term, "Brother Jonathan," was frequently applied by Washington to Governor Trumbull. "When be wanted houeat counsel and wise, be would say, 'let us consult Brother Jonathan.'" ctee Bushnell'a "Historical Eiti. mate," p. 34.
t On entering college, in 1724, young Trumbull Joined a religious society connected with the institution. Its character can be judged from the articles of agreement entered into by the members, which were substantially as toliowa:
1. That we will meet together twice a week for the worship of Qod.
2. That, being met together, we will, as God enables us, perform the several injunctions of the meeting.
3 That all manner of disagreeing, atriles or quarrelling with one another shall be suppn ssed,and that we will live in love, peace, and unity, with one another.
4. That if we see or bear any one of our number sprak or do anything unbecoming a member of this society, we will reprove hiss as far as we shell think the reproof worthy, with all meekness, love, and tenderness toward him.
5. That we will bear with one another's infirmities, and divulge nothing of what nature soever, that is done at our meetings.
6. That when absent from our meetings, we will endeavor to behave ourselves so that "none may havo occasion to speak evil of us." For the rules of this society, 1 am indebted to lion. I, W. Stuart, of Hartford.
Mythology says that Amphion built the walls of Thebes at the sound of his lyre. This is perhaps a mistake; but there can ba tin difficulty in supposing that the columns were fluted.
Morning Cock Crowing.
Has any one awaked in the morning, at "early cock-crowing," especially in the summer, without being struck wilh the peculiar intonation of the animal's voice at that time 7 There is not the loud, strutting, defiant cock a-doodle doo! of the ante-meridian tone; nor the victorious, clarion scream of the afternoon's trumpet, shouting out the battle and the victory all in one grand and bloody exclamation.— It is very different from these. There is a deliberateness about it, as if conviction had been fully forced upon Mr. Rooster's mind of the truth which he was uttering, and he does it seriously, slowly, nay even solemnly, as if uttering it under the impulse of duty. Sometimes, even, there is a slight minor cadence on B natural in it, that leads us lo believe he is proclaiming to the world that which he knows to be a truth, but, after all, a lamentable one.
On a still, clear morning, as soon as the first rays of coming day streak upon the darkness of the East, you may hear from the high roost in some solitary barn, the aroused cock uttering in his slow deliberate tones," Women rule here."' A pause of a second, and the chorus is caught thro' every neighboring farm-bouse—sometimes in bold, cheerful tones—sometimes in shrill, querulous ones, " So they dohere!" "So they do here.'" until the tale has been repeated over the well-governed neighborhooduntil some old, hoarse Shaughae, with a voice like thunder with the quinsey, terminates the announcement and stills the noisy group by uttering "So they do, ev er-y where.'''
Get up early, some clear morning, reader, and you .will assent to the truth of our assertion.
If all the world's a stage, and men and women merely players, where is the audience Bnd orches! tra to come from 7—Exchange.
The man who started that idea on its passage I around the newspaper world, felt as if he had said a witty thing, and had got old Shakspeare into a tight place. But he was mistaken. The world— the universe—is but an immense play-house, on which the whole Human Race are acting a most important, stupendous, aud splendid drama. Scene I after scene, aud act after act of this immense drama have already passed before the eyes of the universe, and the denouement approaches.
But where is the "orcheslra7" For the amusement of the players themselves, there has been music enough. It has arisen around them from the choral melodies of the birds; from tlie murmurings of the insect tribe on the balmy summer air; from the bubbliugs of '-he noisy rills as they rolled over • their pebbles and brought life to the vegetable 'tribe; from the sigh of the rapid air as it breathed over their cheeks; from the moan of the pine-tree tops as the wind howled in its passage over them— there has been music enough in all nature's melodies, and harmony enough iu the order of God's laws aud iu their completeness around them. The spectators of this drama have needed no orchestra, i The gradual developement of the perfections of the plans of the Deity has been as harmonious to them as a burst from the Orchestra of Heaven.
But where is the "audience?" Beings of other 'worlds—of higher and holier capacities—"angels, archangels, seraphims and powers."—They have watched the progress of this great World-Drama, ever since the curtaiu rose over the quiet happiness of Eden. Tiiey watch it still. Iu progress has lost n» interest as it has advanced. Its great plan has been carried forward by generations of actors for six thousand years, with varied events, romantic incidents, and even apparent losses, but its interest has never flagged. Aud there have those specta
tors sat with undiminished attention to lesrn f great result. Worlds are looking on—beings other uatnres—thoughtful, patient, watchful, lull faith that God's glory will rise undirnmed from tl Chaos.
What is the great topic of this Drama 7 What the plan which its author wishes to develops 7 t has two, and the topic is twofold. The first poi is. can man, created free wilh a power lo tlo wron and left in a world where he will be surrounded I temptations, be preserved pure and innocent by li own unaided strength. That is the subject of tl First Act of the Drama. It has been represents in full on the Great Stage, and the fact decided i the Negative. Then has come on the momentoi Second Act of this Drama. "Iu what manner alia extraneous power be»given to m»n for this gre« object of his existence; from what source is it t be obtained, and how transmitted to man." This i the scene now acting, where "the world's a stage and all the men and women merely players."
The Statue of George III.
The following account of the melting of tb^ lead en statue of George the Third, which formerly stooc upon the Bowling Green, New York, we cupy frurr the proof sheets of Mr. Holtister's forthcoming History of Connecticut. The sketch will possess peculiar interest for our readers from the f.ict that the event took place in our own village and was participated in by persons who are still remembered by the mass of our fellow-citizens :—Litchfield Enquirer.
There is an incident connected with Litchfield, that is worthy of notice here, as it illustrates the character of our people, and the part that the mothers and daughters of that generation, played in the drama of the revolution.
General Wolcott, who was a member of the Continental Cougress, and a signer of thu Declaration of* Independence, was a resident of Litchfield, and spent his congressional vacations at home in answering the demands made for troops upon the north-western part of the Slate, by Washington, Putnam and Gates.
On the 21st of August, 1770, the birth-day of
! Prince Frederick, the father of George the Third, an equestrian statue of his majesty was erected in New York, on the Bowling Green, uear Fort George. The statue was made principally of lead, but was the work of Wilton, a celebrated statuary of London, and was very elegant and richly gilded, so that it had the appearance of boing solid gold. The
1 ceremony of its erection was the occasion of much festivity in New York. The king's council, the city corporation, the chamber of commerce, aud the marine society, as well as the gentlemen of the city -and army, paid their respects to Lieutenant-Governor Colden at the fort, by special invitation, and
i • drank the 'king't health' under the inspiring influences of music, and the discharge of thirty-two pieces of cannon from the Battery. No doubt after the fifth bumper, these gentlemen were loyal enough to
I have drank immortality to the statue, as well as to the king. But sad as the reflection may be, it is
; none tbe less true, that, although by the theory of the British constitution the king never dies, yet the works of men's hands are perishable, and the feu. tures of royalty fade even from brass and iron, to say nothing of the more impressible metals that may
i sometimes with more propriety, represent sceptred sovereignty. The eighteenth century was remarkable for its desire to look beneath the surfaces of things, and appears, not long after the statue was placed, to have begun, even in New York, to make a very irreverent application of the maxim, 'all ia not gold that glitters.' It is quite likely that one of the very first experiments was made upon ibis statue, and that the qualities of the metal were tested in the year 1773, with that corrosive acid first discovered iu Connecticut, and afterwards constantly carried in the pockets of those peripatetic philosophers, called 'sons Of Libeett.' Had it not been ao.it is not likely that we should find, under dote of the 6th of February, of that year, an act entitled act 'to prevent the defacing of statues, which ^•erected in the city of New York.' fw)er the protection of this statute,the equestrian hts£. with the exception of the ordinary wear of Irr.seema to have continued to bestride his charger, m '-o have met the morning son with a countenance pally golden, until the year 1776. Da ihe night of the eleventh of July, seven days iter the Declaration of Independence had been
S' ea to the world, the "sons or Liberty" paid najcaty a visit in good earnest. They treated in »ith a shocking familiarity. A gentleman who and near enough to witness the interview, after tf party in nttendance had assisted the king to taahc could not forbear exclaiming, in the words of ■* Angel to Lucifer:
"If thou be'st he—but ah I bow fallen, how changed I"
What they did with the king, where they carried xs.and what was the fate of one, who, by the Its of the country that he governed, could not be ikied to die, was for a long time a mystery. The eii morning the pedestal was in its old place, but 4c horse and his rider were gone. In vain might »loyal British governor search for them, and in 'i n tiight the tories of the city shed tears, as they ■Mied the town and country over to restore to iis place the presiding genius of the Battery. That hnigoant face never beamed upon them again.
Meanwhile, not like Cardinal Wolsey, by easy maw, but rather like General Putnam, by forced atrches, and doubtless under cover of darkness, "» monarch was led away into Connecticut. He ':•> liken far inland over a rough country, and nde to climb high bills. They finally committed ton tj the care of General Wolcott, who was probr v at home and ready to receive bis kingly guest n't hit usual courtly hospitality, not long after the >eventh of July.
The fate of the statue is briefly told. General Wolcott treated its ponderous masses as military
Its. He caused a shed to be built for the brobni >;atue in the apple orchard near the bouse, ad chopped it up with an axe into pieces of v convenient size to be melted into bullets, that 'be king's troops, iu the words of Mr. Hazard, aijkt "bave melted majesty fired at them."— 7m account current, that will be found in the ■adjoined note,* is full of meaning, and will ro«tess, for those who know the characteristics uf 'it ftmilies represented in it, the lively features of ■ picture. It illustrates what has beeu said in the volume of this work, that our Wolcotts, both t:'.t and female, were always ready to labor with "etr bands whenever the situation of the country uhl the public good seemed to call for their servient. With the aid of this little account, we are •b!e to take a peep into the, family mansion of the Oliver Wolcott, during one of those social gath".ist, in the winter of 1776-7. By the inspiring
'Tali aceoant is In the handwriting of Gov. Wolcott, ui U as tallows:
an. Marvin, 34S6c'dge». "on former aceoant, 2602
ti Marvin on former account, 4250 t am to court house, 344 packs, 4138
"iry Ann, on former account, 5762
On the back of thle account ia written In the lame hand'"siatttats brief explanation: "An account of the num. »*»f cartridges made"
- blowing additional memorandum is In the handk3^ts of his son, the last Gov. Wolcott:
'8 An equestrian sutue of George the Third of ;-.*ntBritain, was erected In tbe city of New York, on the -».BiOreen, at the lower end of Broadway; moat of the •^fnala were leadv but richly gilded to resemble gold.— 1 beginning of the revolution this statue was over>„ 'Lead belnar then scarce and dear, tbe statue was -fet ia pieces, and tbe metal transported to Litchfield as -« of safety- Tbe ladles of this village converted the •4*t» cartridge*, of which the preceding Is an account."
warmth of a hickory fire, we can see the sly looks of the fair young ladies, and the approving smile of the elder ones, as that handsome iconoclast, Frederick, places the ladle upon the live coals, piled high with fragments of the statue. Mrs. Marvin, Mrs. Beach, Miss Laura Wolcott, Miss Mary Anu Wolcott, and Miss Ruth Marvin, must bave made some unloyal witticisms at the expense of the late kitiff, as they saw a dissolving view of an eye, un ear, or a nose, that was about to assume a globular form and be put at last in the way of being useful. Forty-two thousand and eighty-eight bullets, in times when lead was dear, and not easily to be had at any price, made no insignificant accession to the, resources of the continental army. They were carefully distributed and faithfully expended.— Some of them were committed to the keeping of Colonel Wigglesworth; others nrnst have aided Putnam in defending the Highlands; a part of them may have gone with Major Seymour, to Saratoga; aud it is certain that fifty of them were used lo welcome the king's provincial governor, when he paid his first and last visit to Danbury.
This incident was one of lnuny that might be related, as illustrating the general fact, that the ladies throughout the State were willing to perform any manual labor that would serve the cause, for which they were ready to give up their own lives, as well as those of their sons, their husbands, and fathers. It was indeed madness to attempt to subdue a people that had been nurtured and trained by women, who would not only deprive themselves of the most ordinary household comforts, and raise with their own hands the grain that they afterwards made into bread, but who would, also, mould the bullets and shape the cartridges that were needed to emancipate their country.
An arm of this statue was shown us a few years since, by an old gentleman of Wilton, who still has possession of it.
iy The following from the London Times is the best summary of the English operations in the Crimea that we have seen. It indicates very distinctly the opinions of tbe nation:
The Russians, despairing of forcing the lines of Kalafat, evacuated Wallachia, and drew together their forces for the purpose of besieging Silistria. Before an outwork of this fortress many thousand Russians perished, without being able to make any impression on its defenders, sustained nnd instructed by the knowledge aud gallantry of two British officers, and tbe tide of war, after having advanced to this point, rolled backwards across the Danube. Meanwhile we had bombarded Odessa, in return for an insult offered to our flag of truce, but had, with an incomprehensible lenity, desisted, after in-Dieting serious injury on the place, and left it to hecome a depot and place of the troops now contending against us in the Crimen. The first employment of our troops on arriving in the East was to fortify Gallipoli, and throw up works, as if the Russians had already forced the Balkan, and nothing were left to the allies but to defend the last promontory of the Turkish empire. From Gallipoli our troops were moved to Varna, where they were encamped in a position pleasing to the eye, but which a little inquiry would have shown to be notoriously pestilential. After spending the summer on this unhealthy coast, which cost us a melancholy list of brave soldiers, the. army embarked for the Crimea, and, by an exploit second to none in the annals of military and naval adventure, was carried to its shore in a state of the utmost security and efficiency, aud landed without loss, and almost without confusion. It were mere waste of space to redescribe events the memory of which is already riveted in the public mind,—the advance on the Alma, the indecisivo skirmish of the 19th, the glorious victory of the20th of September, purchased by the lives of so many brave men, the march to Bulaklava, and the commencement of the siege. Up to the 17th of October, when we opened fire, all appeared to bave gone prosperously. Some regret or doubt might bs felt as to the policy of allowing the enemy to throw up, undisturbed, strong earthworks in our front; but our Engineers were confident thnt they would fall before tlio first efforts of our batteries, and civilians were disposed to acquiesce in tactics which promised a sure success without tbe effusion of blood. On that unhappy doy the real nature of our enterprise disclosed itself. The French batteries were silenced in a few hours, and our own could
barely maintain themselves against the overwhelming fire of the Russians; but, worse than all, our fleet failed in tbe attempt to silence Fort Constantine, and failed, apparently, because only a small part of the ships was brought up to the point from which alone their broadsides could hope to be efl'ec live. The battle of the 25th of October followed, in which our Light Cavalry were sent to destruction, foreseen and foreknown, by some incomprehensible mistake of orders, and ia which it was shown that tbe Turks who accompanied us to the Crimea were of very different stamp from the defenders of Kalafat and Silistria. Then came the memorable Battle of lukermann, with its surprise, so little honorable to our General and the officers of his stafl'; its combats, so glorious to our soldiers; and its results, so fatal to the enemy and so melancholy to us.
Tbe winds and waves soon entered into rivalry with the rage of man, for a hurricane nuexampled even on that stormy coast swept over the allied fleet, and ingulfed men, ships, stores, and treasures, of a number aud amount hardly paralleled in ihe annals of disaster. From that time the ar>ny has been suffering, in patience and in silence, the most fatal and unnecessary misery. While the weather was fine no attempt was made to connect the camp with the shipping by a road, and the result has buen that stores and comforts landed at Balaklava are as much out of the reach of our soldiers as if they were still on the banks of the Thames. Within eight miles of i Iii-iii are clothes, food, materials for house building, fuel, aud many other comforts; but the soldiers have been in rags, have been placed on half rations, have been reduced to burrow in the ground for shelter, aud driven to the utmost extremity to obtain firewood from a surface of land saturated with ruin. There huve beeu guns and ammunition in abundance at Balaklava, while tbe siege has been interrupted for want of guns and ammunition. The soldiers have now been lor three months in the sumo positiou; their baggage is within eight miles of them, but they cannot receive it, and in this position the last news uf the old year leaves un army victorious wherever it has met the enemy, not worn down by long marching or separated from its base of operations, but concentrated on a single point close to its supplies, and provided for out of the rich' est storehouse m the world.
We will still hope everylbiug from our men and our gallant allies, but the result undoubtedly is that uuder the pressure of the present war our military departments, with the single exception of the Cummissariut, have completely brokeu down. There is no system, no forethought, no contrivance. The medical department bus been ill supplied with all tbe materials necessary for its efficiency. Whatever has been sent out has uniformly been iu the wrong place, and it seems to be nobody's business to regulate the desliuation and distribution of the stores. A few wagons lo replace the wretched arabaa of the country would bave saved incalculable suffering and loss, but they were not sent, and a ruilroad ia now projected, which will probably be begun just at the time when the road, which should have beeu made so long ago, ahull have been completed. There is little use in wasting time iu endless accunalious and recriminations. The first duly of the nuliou is to see that the want of system, from which so many evils have flowed, is effectually corrected, und to bring the efficiency of its military departments up to a level with the management of private enterprizes.
A Scmi-CentenDlal Anniversary.
Wethersfield, Ct. Jan. 17, 1855.
A half-century celebration, in the parish of New iugtou, iu the town of Wethersfield, Conn, was an occasion of great interest. Many clergymen of different denominations were present. The Sermon, by the Rev. J.-,ab Biai;e, D. D- was characteristic of the man; it was plaiu, tender, and full of striking incident. His text was, 1 Cor. 2: 2—5: "For 1 determined not to know any among you, save Jesus Christ, and him crucified. And I wus with you in weakness, and in fear, and in much trembling. Aud iny speech and my preaching was not with enticing words of man's wisdom, but iu demonstration of the Spirit aud of power, that your faith should not stand in the wisdom of men, but in the power of God."
He began by saying, that the weight of tbe gospel ministry was enough lo make any man tremble.— Tbe text described his purpose end feeling at the commencement, -and through the whole progress of his ministry. He camo there a mere youth, at the age of twenty-three. And what was wonderful, he had been enabled to Berve them with scarcely the loss of a single Sabbath, and without any extra expense to the society, for fifty years. His sermon was full of dates and facts. He gave a candid account of the ministers who had preceded him.— Newington, as an ecclesiastical society, was incorporated in the early part of the eighteenth century. The first minister was Rev. Elisha Williams, a native of Hatfield, Mass. son of a clergyman. He preached six years with great acceptance, when he was called to be President of Yale College, which office he resigned, after a successful administration of thirteen years, on account of ill health. Mr. Williams was a man of powerful mind, of great discretion and eminent piety. Dr. Brace's account of him was exceedingly interesting. The next minister was a Mr. Backus, from Norwich, who married a sister of President Edwards: she was one of ten daughters of Rev. Timothy Edwards, of Windsor. He was a good minister, and died in tho service of his country, Hs chaplain to the army. The next minister was the Rev. Mr. Belden, of Wethersfield, an excellent man, a good preacher, a wise counselor. His ministry continued fifty-six years. It is remarkable that two ministers in succession should live to preach, in the same parish, half-century sermons. Mr. Brace was settled as colleague with Mr. Belden: they lived in great harmony fur ten years. After singing by the choir, Dr. Brace continued his narrative. The parish is a small one, numbering a little more than six hundred souls. The church was small when he took charge of it. For twenty years, there were constant indications of the presence of the Spirit. In an humble and becoming manner, he spoke of the revivals of religion with which his people had been blessed. In temporal things they had been also blessed, so that they had increased in wealth tenfolds He referred to the changes which time had wrought during his ministry. All who were on the council when he was ordained, both ministers and delegates, were dead; only one who voted for him to be the minister of that people was living, and was present. He alluded with much feeling to the uniform kindness which had been shown him.— There never had been a difficulty in the church from the beginniug, now nearly one hundred and fifty years. They must have had good ministers, aud are a peaceable people. He taught a school in his Oa n house for thirty" years, and two hundred pupils had received his instructions. Some of them have become ministers, and others lawyers; many of them he had received into the church.— He had raugbt a Bible class for thirty years, and most of the youth who had joined it, from time to time, have united with the church. He spoke of the increase of benevolent effort in the congregation. As their means increased, they were willing to contribute to spread the gospel through the world. Three years ago he signified to the people, as he was seventy, he was willing to resign; but several young men came forward and joined the society, for the purpose of sustaining hini. A short time since, the societv met, and passing a series of resolutions, as honorable to themselves as they . were flattering to Dr. Brace. These resolutions were read by Dr. Todd, his son-in-law, after the sermon was ended. I never saw so large an audience, so deeply interested and affected, as on this occasion. The interest was kept up to the close; the sermon was long—two hours were consumed in the delivery of it. Father Brace invited all the clergymen present, with their families, to repair to his house for refreshment. His people provided a cold collating, on the most liberal scale. He was quite overcome by the expression of kind feeling, manifested in several short speeches by ministers *j of several religious denominations. Tears of sympathy were shed, in consequence of the death of Mis. Brace just two mouths before, a most estimable woman—tears of joy and gratitude, that the excellent pastor had made such a graceful close of a long ministry.—N. Y. Evangelist.
Lati'a was disconsolate. Henry had long flirted but never put the question. Henry went his way. Laura's aunt, for consolation, bought hern love of a spaniel pup. "My dear," says the a But, "the puppy can do everything but speak." "Why will you agonise me?" says Laura, "that's the only fault found with the other."
Correct Process la Prosecutions.
The liquor law has been as successfully enforced in New Haven as in any other city in the State, and we are very glad to be able to lay before our readers the following well recommended forms of procedure taken from the Maine Lam Advocate- It would be well to preserve these forms for comparison or use, as occasion may require:— To the Editor of the Maine Lam Advocate.
Sir:—It is very important that prosecutions under the Prohibitory Law of this Slate, should not fail, through some technical defect in the proceedings. Complaints substantially like the two first of the three forms which accompany this communication have stood the test here, and the other has been drawn up with care, and if they are followed, there will be no difficulty, so far as complaints are concerned. On the trial, it will be necessary to prove a breach of the law only as to one kind of liquor specified, or as to uuy spirituous liquor.
A Friend Of The Law.
Information for keeping Spirituous Liquors milk intent to sell.
STATE OF CONNECTICUT,?
County, >"• Town of day of 185
To A. B., Esquire, a Justice of the Peace, within and for County, comes C. D. a Grand
Juror for said town, and on his oath of office complaint and information makes, that at said town of on the first day of in tho
year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and fifty-five, E. F., of said town of not be
ing an agent for said town of to sell,
within and on account of said town, spirituous or intoxicating liquors, with force and arms, at said town, did own and keep a quantity of spirituous liquors, with intent to sell j that is to say, did then and there own and keep, with the intent aforesaid, ten gallons of Brandy, ten gallons of Cherry Brandy, ten gallons of Cider Brandy,ten gallons of Peach Brandy, ten gallons of Rum, ten gallons of Santa Croix Rum, ten gallonsof New England Rum, ten gallons of Cherry Rum, ten gallons of Whiskey, ten gallons of Gin, ten gallons of Pure Spirits, ten gallons of Wine, ten gallons of Ale. thirty bottles of Porter, ten gallons of Lager Beer, and ten gallons of spirituous liquors, a mure particular description of which is to the Grand Juror unknown, against the peaco of this Slate, of evil example, and contrary to the Statute in such case made and provided.
And the Grand Juror aforesaid, further complaint and information makes, that at said town of
on the first day of , in the year of
our Lord on* thousand eight hundred and fifty-five, the said E. F., not being an agent for said town of . to sell, within and on account of said
town, spirituous and intoxicating liquors, with force and arms, did own and keep a certain quantity of mixed liquor, of which a partis spirituous, with intent to sell the same; that is to say, did then and there own and keep, with the intent aforesaid, ten gallons of mixed liquor, of which a part is spirituous, a more particular description of which is to the Grand Juror unknown, against the peace, of evil example, and contrary to the statute in such case made and provided.
Wherefore the Grand Juror aforesaid prays process, and that the said E. F. may be arrested, held to answer to this complaint, and be thereon dealt with according to law. Dated at the day and year aforesaid. C. D., Orand Juror.
Information for Selling Intoxicating Liquor.
STATE OF CONNECTICUT, \
Town of day of 185
To A. B., Esquire, a Justice of the Peace, within and for County, residiug in the Town
of in said County, comes C. D., a Grand
Juror for said town of on the
day of an agent for said town
of to sell, within and on account of
said town, spirituous or intoxicating liquor with force aud arms did sell to G. H. of said town, a certain quantity of spirituous liquor—that is losay, did then and there sell to the said G. H. one quart of Brandy, one quart of Cherry Brandy, one quart of Cider Brandy, one quart of Peach Brandy, one quart of Rum, one quurl Santa Croix Rum. one quart New England Rum, one quart Cherry Rum, one quart of pure spirits, one quart of Alcohol, one quart of Whisky, one quart of Gin, one quart Wine,
one quart of Ale, ten bottles of Porter, one quart of Lager Beer, and one quart of spirituous liquor, a more particular description of which is to tl)>' Grand Juror unknown, against the peace, of evil example, and contrary to the statute in such esses made and provided.
And the Grand Juror aforesaid further complai i>t and information makes, that at said town of
on the day of
in the year of our Lord, one thousand eight hundred and fifty five, the said E. F., not being an agent for said town of to sell, within
and ou account of said town, spirituous or intoxicating liquors with force and arms, did sell to the said G. H., a certain quantity of mixed liquor, of which a part is spirituous, that is to say, did then and there sell to the said G. H. in a manner aforesaid, one quart of mixed liquor, of which a part is spirituous, more particular description of which is to the Grand Juror unknown, against the peace, of evil example, and contrary to the statute in such cases made and provided.
Wherefore the Grand Juror aforesaid prays process, and that the said E. F., may be arrested, belli to answer this complaint, and be thereon dealt with according to law. Dated at the day and
year first aforesaid.
C. D., Grand Juror.
Information for Procuring Liquors of an Agent underfalse pretences.
STATE OF CONNECTICUT, J
To A. B., Esquire, Justice of the Peace within, and for County, comes C. D., a Grand
Suror of said town, and on his oath of office, complaint makes that at said town of on the day of
1855, E. F., of the town of did pur
chase a quantity, to wit, one quart of spiritous or intoxicating liquor of a kind to the Grand Juror unknown, of G. H., of said town of the said G. H.theu being a town agent of said town of duly qualified to sell within said town of
spiritous and intoxicating liquors for sacramental, medical, chemical and mechanical uses only, and to introduce the said G. H., as agent, to sell said liquor to him, the said E F. did then aud there, in purchasing said liquor, intentionally make a false statement to the said agent, regarding the use to which said liquor was intended by him to be applied, and did in such statement intentionally and falsely represent to said agent, that the wife of said
E, F. was then sick, and that he intended to apply said liquor to her use, (or any other false statement,) whereas, the said Grand Juror says, that the said wife of said E. F. was not then sick, as the said E.
F. then well knew, and that he did not intend to apply said liquor to her use ugaiust the peace and contrary to the statute in such case provided.
Wherefore the Grand Juror aforesaid prays process, and that the said E. F. may be arrested, held to answer this complaint,, and be thereon dealt with according to law. Dated at the day aud
year first aforesaid. C. D. Grat
Ferocity of Rats.
In giving an account of the storm in Boston on Friday, the Chronicle of that city says:
At the wharves, owing to the high water, a large number of rats were killed by unemployed laborer*. The vermiu were obliged to leave their boles or remaiu and be drowned, and as they appeared, parties of Irishmen waiting for jobs chased them about the docks with clubs and stones. In one instance the men had driven two large rats into an empty building on Commercial street, where there was no mode of egress except through the door. This the men fastened, and forming a circle, drove the auimals into a corner and prepared to despatch them. The rats rendered desperate, sprang at the throat of the nearest Irishman, and one succeeded in fustening his long, sharp teeth in the mail's handkerchief which he wore around his neck, and held his jaws firmly clasped until killed. Luckily the handkerchief was thick so that the animal's teeth did not touch the man's throat. The rat's companion sprang at his intended victim, missed him, and was knocked over by n club. They were enormous large fellows, and would have made a diuBer fur half a dozen Chinamen.
A Prophetic Remark.
rw true is that saying that the "bo; is the K of the man." An interesting incident was usd to ua by Miss Mortimer, the authoress of rxa Montage," the daughter of the venerable n«iaun clergyman lately deceased, but so well ua in th~ city of New York, bearing upon this
i '-be Sunday School belonging !o his charge, e> wsss a small boy who was familiarly known n* rame of "Johnnie," who had a great prede
s: tor drawing and sketching, consequently the ast leaves of the catechism and question books ■•a bia reach were profusely elaborated by his J with the pencil, he being more fond of drawing n the books than drawing instruction from them. Msie sat with his class in the gallery near the 7L-. the instrument exhibiting a certain degree
-Tpocriay, like certain members of the chnrch ■ •»ot of, the front presenting a smooth exterior
mbogany,while the back was nothing bat white
■ '.m smooth surface of which was too tempting it'd to eacape Johnnie's industrious pencil; conjseatiy it received certain artistic decorations not sjoed by the builder; among them was an elabi>drawing of the pulpit of the Church, and the ■tor witb upraised hands pronouncing the bene:;»□. embodying a really excellent likeness of the ittr&ble clergyman, Mr. Mortimer himself. One aday morning the pastor visited the children in v. tallery.when bis eye canght sight of his likeness t'be back of the organ, and he immediately recog■wd the picture and the remarkable resemblance
.mself. He addressed the children without suing any allusion at the time to the drawing on ■r organ, and when he returned home mentioned
■ til family, who all repaired early to the church K ascended the gallery to have a view of the picre; among them was our informant, who euys alsagh thirty years have passed she still distinctly • Uects the aeaaalion the likeness of her rather Tasuced on hi* family. Mr. Murtimer was so inrested himself that when the school assembled be "i.red to the gallery and after making some obraiinn to the children, inquired who it was that
-w upon the organ, when a little boy lisped "it m Johnnie." The kind pastor called Johnnie to ■m, who came trembling, expecting a severe repri:iad and a lecture for his immoral conduct and -.erilege. He bang his head and did not dare to ■>k up. "Johnnie, did you do that t" Johnnie >u afraid to answer, and kept his eyes upon the rraood. "Don't be afraid, Johnnie, my boy; was iyeo that did it?" Although Johnnie drew upon M books, he also drew from them the moral precept to abhor a falsehood, and being encouraged by s-e kmd manner of the clergyman, stammered out, Yes, sir," in an almost inaudible voice. "It is very if .! done indeed, my son," said the kind-hearted inner, much to the relief of poor Johnnie, who • >» raised bis eyes and looked the pastor in his See, who said "very well done indeed, but don't irsw any more upon the organ or in the church— set keep on," and then patting the boy upon the !*»d, said "keep on. Johnnie, yon may make a noise a tbe world yet, my son."
It was prophetically spoken. He did "keep on," !.d be did "make a noise in the world," and bit fsoias in after life was honored by kings and princes. That boy was John Banvnrd.
The London merchant.
Mr. Bartlett'i Sketches of European Society.
John Oakheart and Son are Baltic merchants, losng John entered bis father's office as a clerk at city pounds a year, of which he paid his mother :f!y for bis board, lodging, and washing, and cloih
himself with the odd twenty. Do not imagine id Mr. Oakbeari's establishment required this asHance. The old gentleman desired to make his »s feel independent—be was a man, he earned his *a livelihood, and-should feel that he supported ■tself. At 85 years of age, young Oakheart roar'n. receiving with his wife a moderate sum of fcsey. He wants to purcbuse a share of his fa>f'i business; they cannot come to terms. Young «sa can make a better bargain with a rival house tins trade. The old man hesitates; he likes the Hal of J. Oakheart & Son; but business is busi^t Had bis sou married a penniless girl tbe faiii would have given him what be now refuses to but now business is business be thinks, and as
-sistioo, he can't do it. So Young John becomes
chief partner in a rival firm to that which mast one day bo his, and trades against the old man, whose only aim is to lay up wealth for his son.
Every day, at 4 o clock, leauing against a particular corner on'Change, stands the elder merchant, his hands deeply sunk in his dog's eared pockets. A young city man 'approaches; they exchange a quiet, careless nod:
"Feel inclined to a discount for 1,200 at long date f"
"What name t" asked old Jons. "My own. I will give 4 per cent." "I should want more than that, as money goes— say 44."
"The brokers only ask 44," replied the young mau.
"Then give it." And they separate with an indifferent nod. That was father and son.
livery Sunday young John and his wife dine at Russel Square, in tbe same house where old Oakheart has lived for thirty years. His name has been cleaned out of the brass plate on the door. This house young John still looks upon and speaks of it as his home. All the associations of his childhood are there—every piece of furniture is an old friend—every object is sacred in his eyes, from his own picture, taken at four years old, with its chubby face and fat legs, to the smoke-dried print of General Abercrombie. They form the architecture of that temple of his heart, his home.
After dinner the ladies have retired. The crimson curtains are comfortably closed. The crackling fire glows with satisfaction, and old John pushes the bottle across to his son, for, if old John has a weakness, it is for tawney port
'Jack, ray boy,' says he, 'what do you want with 1200 pounds 1'
'Well, sir,' replied young John, 'there is a piece of ground next to my villa nt Brixton, and they threaten to build upon it—if so, they will spoil our view. Emily,' meaning his wife, 'has often begged me to buy it, and inclose it in onr garden. Next Wednesday is her birth-day and I wish to gratify her with a surprise; but I have reconsidered tbe matter—I ought not to afford it—so I have given it up.'
'Quite right, Jack,' responded the old man. 'It would have been a piece of extravagance,' and the subject drops.
Next Wednesday, on Emily's birth-day, tbe old couple dine with the young folks, and just before dinner, old John takes his daughter-in-law aside, and places in her hands a parchment—it is the deed of the little plot of ground she coveted. He stops her thanks with a kiss and hurries away.
Ere the ladies retire from the table, Emily finds time to whisper the secret to her husband. And the father and sou are alone. Watch the old man's eyes, fixed ou the fire, for be has detected this piece of affectionate treachery, and is almost ashamed of his act, because he does not know how to receive his son's thauks. In a few moments a deep, gentle feeling broods upon the young man's heart, he has no words—it is syllabled in emotions that make his lips tremble, he lays his hand upon his father's arm and their eyes meet.
'Tut, Jack, sir! pooh! sir, it must all come to yon soma day. God bless you, my boy, and make you as happy at my age as I am now.' In silence the souls of these men embrace. But who is that seraph that gathers them beneath her outspread angel wings? I have seen her linking distant hearts, parted by the whole world. She is the good genius of tbe Anglo-Saxon family, and her name is Home.
Bill of Hale of a Slave In Connecticut, In 1740.
I, John Story, of Norwich, in the County of New Loudon, in tbe Colony of Connecticut, have sold and delivered unto John Durkey, a negro womnu named More, aged about twenty years, for the valuable sum of one buudrod and forty pounds money, to me in band paid or secured, to be paid before the delivery of the said negro woman. As witness my band this 29th day of October, 1740.
Signed and sealed in presence of
AfTiCTiOKATX—Sick wife—Oh! dear, 1 can't breathe.
Loving Husband—Don't try, my dear'
The Wife's Influence—A Contrast.
•This is pleasant,' exclaimed the young husband, taking his seat cosily in the rocking-chair, as the things were removed. The fire glowing in the grate, revealed a pretty neatly furnished sittingroom, with all the appliances of comfort. The fatiguing business of the day was oyer; and he sat enjoying what he had all day been anticipating, the delights of his own fireside. His pretty wife Esther took her work and sat down by the table,
'It is pleasant to have a home of one's own,' he again said, taking a satisfactory survey of bis little quarters. The cold rain beat against the windows, and he thought he felt really grateful for all his present comforts.
'Now, if we only had a piano,' exclaimed the wife.
'Give me the music of your own sweet voice before all the pianos in creation,' he declared complimentarily, besides a certain secret disappointment that his wife's thankfulness did not happily chime in with his own.
'Well, but we wnnt one for our friends,' said Esther.
'Let oar friends come and see us, and not to hear a piano,' exclaimed the husband.
'But, George, everybody has a piano now-a days, we don't go any where without seeing a piano,' persisted the wife.
'And vet I don't know what we want one for— you will have no time to play one, and I don't want to hear it.*
'They're so fashionable—I think our room looks nearly naked without one.' 'I think it looksjust right.'
'I think it looks very naked—we want a piano shockingly,' protested Esther emphatically.
The husband rocked violently.
'Your lamp smokes, my dear,' said he after a long pause.
'When are yon going to get an astral lamp! I have told you a dozen times how much we needed one,' said Esther pettishly.
'Those are very pretty lamps—I can never see by an astral lamp,' said her husband.
'But, George, 1 do not think our room is complete without an astral lamp,' said Esther, sharply.
The husband moved uneasily in his chair.
'We want to live as well as others,' said Esther.
'We want to live within our means, Esther,' ex claimed George.
'I am sure we can afford it as well as the Morgans, and Millers, and Thorns—we do not wish to appear mean.'
'George's cheek crimsoned.
'Mean! I am not mean!' he cried angrily.
Then we do not wish to appear so,' said the wife. 'To complete this room, and make it look like other people's we want a piano and an astral lamp.'
'We—we want!' muttered the husband, 'there's no satisfying woman's wants, do what you may,' and he abruptly left the room.
How many husbands are in a similar dilemma T How many houses and husbands are rendered uncomfortable by the dissatisfaction of a wife with present comforts and present provisions T How many bright prospects for business have ended in bankruptcy and ruin, in order to satisfy this secret hankering after fashionable necessaries? Could the real cause of many failures be known, it would be found to result from useless expenditure at home . —expenses to answer the demands of fashion, and 'what will people think."
'My wife has made my fortune,' said a gentleman of great possessions, 'by her thrift and prudence, and cheerfuluess, when I was just beginning.'
'Mine lost my fortune;' answered bis companion, 'by useless extravagance and repining when t was doing well,*
What a world does this open to the influence which a wife possesses over the future prosperity of her family! Lot the wife know her influence and try to use it wisely and well.
Be satisfied to commence 011 a small scale. It is too common for young housekeepers to commence where their mothers ended. Buy all that is necessary to work skillfully with.;•'adorn your house with all that will render, it comfortable. Do not look at richer homes, and aovet their costly furniture. If secret dissatisfaction is ready to spring up, go a step further and visit the homes of the poor and suffering, behold dark, cheerless apartments, insufficient clothing and absence of the comfort and refinement of social Hfts, and*" then return to ysrtrr awn