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Wig; i sg a a ’ p sors nlt A R OU ote SM, todigh \the br the k it ter se have proved ate er vi inf Health, Oct: Ale 1642 erita competrncy, ond let Fuer: yonll- flew gaat may condi- e - a higfl: Tike CMU E ® it an AC- I Now prt iveats\ign. Now Yid. 4\ . , sda ton . R f’ 122 are. on on com ce c peoninti Tec oa 0 Tiros n :ft’l§gifi®1xrio‘t}b 74a1”m25 * PUBBISHRDSON WEDNESDAYS By muc yp Bl‘fi’mm' Ptoprhtor. sad nao Tn sgn cor fel ect rar mle ipr o énulmrfibcrn flg‘pphjed at a; 25 in advance an fififillaii'gliiztocluba aid in ade l 6dt I??? mimic glue}: at ghr offing _ ance for eas at the aption of the Ne tinu & 'qmants inserted. at the usual rates. t -12, - 5, CHENANGOG Co, N nesity . . Y., WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 11, 1850. e) Har 200 7 T meee 7 2 n n S z TT Tce mire 4 in For the Times. venders. No; l willsee Mr. Joho Johnson Thus Erreors or -Sno;r on tse Figuo :*... (OUR Baruy pays. Tig sweet to wander forth alone ** A€'tHid cloke of a summer day ; < Andwwatch the beans of the setting sun « Auithey fade in the west away. Aud the brilliant hues of the purple clouds [lluyzed by his parting) rayey \Wheh' the same bright o jects meet the eye © 'That had gladdened our early days. When the'sun has sunk in the west afar +_ And the moon shines clear and bright ; And thecold, pale beanrof the evening star wsheds forth Its aihi‘er light. ren memory lends her inagie aid 1th; a valce through the lfiihght‘s haze, idse whispering sounds we love to hear - 'For theytell of our earthly days. \We Heart th .the rustling trbes, «udliftaptiow-lo thamngrtherh [blast ; «Thaitnurturofthe stream brings back The mein'flyg of the past. 'We think of the time when in sportive glee We carolled our joyous lays ; Andiall around us was bright and free In-our childhood's hafipy days. 'Atd.often in'the dead of night of our native hame, - Like a long streaming ray of light Comes trembling through the gloom ;- a thirlk of the home of out infant years 'As the vision around us plays, «And lite the notes of sore wild old song Brings us back to our early days. cAud when upon the cheerfal hearth The fire is burning bright, . And we while away the dreary hours Ofa stormy. winter's night ; When friends of our youth are gathering round <+ Its bright and fickering blaze, \Tis then we love tosit and hear .... The tales of our early days. . 'And when our.race is nearly run, . & winro! this darllli vii; of care-> We gszs upon the gloriqus sua And inhale the fragrant.@ . > i C Cajon af _~lerR a amed' Imene soany vragen ~> .l. + ~Ob t-then 'ts sweat to have a friend w - Who can apeak of our carly days. bi Wm UP a TESTIMONIAL. BY JOHN JONER, JR. \Dortor said a man with a thin, sallow 'countenance, pule lips and leaden eyes, com- Ing up to the counter .of a drug store in Balti- nore, some ten years ago-' Doctor, I've been Yeading your advertisement about the * Uni- versal Restorer, and Balsam of Life} and i that Mr. John Johnson's testimony is to be relied on. it ought to suit ny case, for, in de- scribing his own sufferings, he exactly de- scribed mine. But I've spent so much money in medicine, to no purpose, that I'm tired of heing humbugged ; so if you'll fuet tell me where I can find this Mr. Johnson, I'll give him i 01:1”, like to know if he's a real flesh and blood man.' * You 'don't mean to insinuate that 1'd for- ged a testimonial ? replied the man of medi- cine. with some slight show of indignation. \7 © Oh no. 1 don't insinuate anything at all, Dostor,' answered the pule looking man.- © But I'd like to see that Mr. John Johnson, and have a little talk with him.' *You can do that, if you'll take the trouble to call on bir,' said the Doctor; in an off-hand way. * Where can I fied him ? neked the man, ' Ho.lives a little way out of town ; about threo miles on the Frederick turtpike.' ' Ahi So far? 'Yes. Go out until you come to the three milg:atono; then keep on to the firat road woraing off to she tight, along which you will go sbout a quarter of a mile, when you will «es a brick house. - Mr. Johuson lives there.' The thin, sallow faced man, bowed- and retfred. A# he left the store, the Doctor gave a low chockle, aud then said, balf a- loud +04 ss he- won't iry to find that Mr. John Johnson? . ©Bpi ho was mistaken, Three hours af- terwards the sick man entered the shop, and sinking upon a chair with an exprosaivn of weariness, said, in a freiful © Well, Doctor, I've been out where you eaid. bot no Mr. Johoson lives there.' © Mr. Johnson lives ot the place where I directed you,' said the Doctor, possiively. Bot tie man shook his head. *Kemarent:out the Frederick road to the threo:taile:stone I' A¥esd or ino . .AAndqurned of at tha-first road 68 the left e « = ' Yeu told mo on the right hand side' said the mas. + 'Oh! There's the mistake,! replied the Doctor, with the air of a man who had discov- gred-a-very material error, by which an im- tresult. was affected. ' I told you to wrmof tothe left? . wan you said the right,\ persisted the E we us o « ¢ returned the Doctor, in a F tone of voice. ' How coold 1 bave Said:ibeiright hand side,\ w u‘nfiw?:l know Mt. Johnsooas well ss Ekseirmy.own brother, and hare bees at his of times. ~ *I am almost edre you eaid the right !' per- .; Yow mitunferstogd ma,' most .positivaly adewarad'h&'Dortor. .\ _ ~a Vfely Lost only wy it again' said the *Batshail fikqbddagha anol. - ; Lor I'xs completely boule Rertorer} ae [cine will 4-1” first? 'his shop on the next day, about noon. \_ 'No, I did not,\ was replied, a little impa- tiently. ' :| * Ab? How comes that! Did you follow the directions 1 gave 7° Yes, to-the very letter' 'But I tell you I didn't,? \It's very strange ! alter passing, the three mile stone ?. 6 .c noice mC which opened from the turnpike ?' ' What gate T' Mr. Johnson's 'house.) 'I kept on as you directel, to the first road mention anything ubout a gate. in any other manner. open for every sort of ingress and egress. 1 don't wonder that you were uhable to find Mr. Johneon.* direction,' sald the Invalid. *I'm nearly dead now with fatigue; I'll try onee more to find the matter drop. .I don't believe-your pedi- ah.gopd nny how # me © take a bottle? sisted the sick man, j hot sun.is too much for you.' dear! «Well! leading off 16 the left ?\ o * Yee! © Two poplar trees stand at the gate ? Yes! © 1 ought to find that? Doctor. 'The man started off again. lid retired. tend of thre. 13a day wore on, but the Testimonin Hu of the quack doctor. Mr. Johneon, of course? replied the invalid, impatiently. The doctor was a man of great self con offended. ly didn't follow my directions.! one tall elm.\ ed to his shelves and took therefrom a bot icine. I know it will core you. te. {t shall cost you nothing.' sous then sard+= 2 0 0 0C a half a-dollar won't kil} ime. went slowly away. gloning' . _ © Well ; did you sea Mr. Johoson ® neked the Doctor, with a pleasant smile and confi- dent air, as the testimonial bunter entered I can't understand it You turned off at the first road to- the left ' 'P tail poplar trees stood at the gate 'The gate op’hnfng into the lane leading to * I didn't turn off at any gate said the man. | that led off from the turupike. Yhu did not *I didn't suppose it necessary,' replied the Doctor, with a show of impatience. 'A road is a road-whether you enter it by g gate of Roads leading to a gentleman's country seats are not usually left 'I wish you'd give me a more particular this man, and if I don't tarn him. up, I'll let ARF it wilt help you replied \ims --. LP\ BBhialigr_a taimt - whisper I can tell by your very countenance that it is what you want. Hundreds, sffedted as you are, have been restored to health. Better *I want to sae this Mr. Johnson first,' per- *Get a carriage then. 'This walking in the 'Can't afford to ride in carriages. Have spent all my money in dnctor's stuffe. Oh You say this man lives just beyond the three mile stone, ai the first road 'You can find it, if you try,' returned the 'Plague on the persevering fellow ! mat- tered the man of drugs, ns soon as the inva- 'I wish I'd sent him six miles in- er did not re-appear. Early on the next morning, however, his pale, thin face, and emaciated brows ware visible in the shop ' Ah 1 good morning! good morning !' cried the latter, with one of the most assured and pleasant smiles in the world. 'You found * Confound you and Mr. Johnson too ! no !' trol, and, of course, did not in the least become * Sirange !' said he. seriouely. ' You suro- *I surely did. 'The first gate on the left hand side, But your two tall poplare was *There it is again \ and the Doctor, in the fullness of his surprise. actually let a small package which he held in his hand, fail upoo the counter. '1 told you poplars. dirtinetly. The elm tree gate is at least a quarter of a mile this side. But to setile the matier at once,' and the doctor, epeaking like a man 1 who was about doing a desperaia thing, turn- of the Universal Restorer-* here's the mad- Take a bot 'The sick man, tempted strongly by the hope of a cure, heaffated for a short time and +1 don't-want your for fothlog, Bat, Se hedrew a coin from his pocket, laid it upon the coonter, and taking the medicine, * Rather a hard customer that,' said the Doctor to bimeelf, with a chaskle. as he slip ped the money in his drawer. | (Bat I'll take good care to send the next one like hia lit- te forther on his fool's errand. ' He'd mwueh better have thken my word for it io the . be- or Bartus.-You cin form no idea of the storm of balls and bullets and shells which crossed one another in their dread course.- Before and around the spot on which Field: Marshal Radeteki was standing the heavy sixteen pound shot ploughed up the ground, tracing in one place a deep furrow, and cut- (ting down a tree like a stubble in another.-- It is remarkable how each kind of missfle has its own characteristeis. There is the tremo- 'Then you must have found Mr. Johnsonfi‘lous how! of the-round shot, the whisile of the musket ball, the hiss of the shell, like that of the Catharine wheel fire work,.and then its Lllefonallun as it bursts; Of the pst, many exploded harmless in the air; 1 n one refremd‘lfi-xmfimmwwéfié'c‘?kflhfiaéfiin Que such struck an officer in the breast, ex- ploded at that instant, struck down a mah at the right and left, and cut off the upper part of the officer's body in such a manner that this frightened horse galloped off some dis- tance with the feet of the corpse in the stir- rups. Such are the spectacles which the field of batile often presents. Not far of lay a Piedmontese artillerist who had been struck in the forghead by a spent six-pound shot, which remained in the wound. A hussar| had been killed at the same instant with his horse. by a shot which had pasted through the neck of the latter ; they had sunk togeth- er, the rider on the saddle, and the saber still in his hand. The sudden collapse of a man in fall vigor is what is most fearful to behold. One sinks without a groan, another jumps high from the ground with a shriek, falls over, Hes stif, and is dead 1 1 saw a Grenadier from the Banat, with a bail in his forehead, falter a | few paces, leaning on his musket like a vtron- (fome. expire. - Over The town ie. canton | shigke.had spread a colossal canopy, which floared motionless above the roof like the crown of the Italian pine tree.-Scenes from the Life of a soldier in active service, 1949. ~ An Amarsus Fowu Buseoea.-The edit- or of the Lynn Bay Stale has been buying llancy eggs of some one in Boston, at a big figure, which didn't turn out what he expect- ed, and so he concludes that the hen fever is a humbug! Barved him right; he bought what are said to be Cochin China eggs. and found siz ducks in his hatching coop one mor- ning. Bo much for his foresightedness. This isn't half so bad as the case of one of his neighbors, however, who paid a round price for hall a dozen cholge eggs, queer look- ing, speckled egga; small, round, outlandish egga; which he felt certain would produce rare chicks, and which he was very cautions in setting under bis very best hen. At the end of a fortnight, he was startled at the breakfast table to hear his (avarite hen a screaming 'bloody murder' from under the 1} coop. He rushed to the rescue, rrised the box lid, and found his hen still on the nest, but in a frightful perturbation ; struggling. yelling, and cackling most vociforously, He spoke to her kindly and softly ; he would fain appease and quiet her; for there was great danger, lest in her excitement and etruggles ehe should destroy the favorite egge-those rare egge which bad cost him so much trouble and money. But soft words were in vain-his 'best' continued 10 scream, and he raised her from the nest to look into the cause of the trouble more critically, His natonishmont was instantaneous bot immense; and his surprise found vent in the brief excla- mation: \ Turtles ! Tumtise 11\ Buch was the caee, The poor innatent pouliry 'fancier' was the victim of a misplaced confidence. The purty who sold him them eggs had rold the buyer shockingly ! And instead of a brood of pore Cochin China, he found that his favorite hen had hatched half a dozen pure mud turtles. all of whom on break- ing from the shell, seized upon the feah of the poor fowl and had well nigh destroyed her life belore they could be \© choked off !\ He has given up the chicken trade and has since gone into the dwar! pear business.-Amer. Union. e Getrino Insurso.-The Troy Post relates a 'good one' of Jacob Barker, the Quaker. who hearing of tha loss. of one of his vessels. which he bad.omitted getting insured, wrote to a broker with whom he had spoken on the subject, as follows : \* Dear Friend -II thee bas not filed up the policy which I bespoke on Saturday, thee need not, as 1 have heard from the vessel.\ The broker in fact bad not filled op the policy, bot presuming from the tenor of Ja- gob's note, that bis vessel was safe, and temp- ted by what seemed a good chance to clouch his per centage without any risk, Alled h up fortbwith, and sent it to Jacob, with the as- surancs that it bad been made aft ready for about his |; George Washington. Anecdotes related by John Adams, Senior. The following atcount of the appointment of. General Washington to the supreme com- mand of the continental army, Jone 17th, 1775, has been placed in our hands by a gen« teman in whose verseity we have full con- fidence. We cannot doubt the authenticity of the anecdote he gives.. This subject has of late years been. brought before the public under various versions, and has in every shape attracted attention. The private jour- cal, narrating a conversation with John Ad- ams, sgpfor, before that great and good man was called to his foal rest. The relation is more in detaibthan that which thas hitherto corroborates the former versions of the caus- es which led to the appointmentof Washing- ton,. Lest we' should in any way affect the anecdote, we give it in the words of the nar- rator ;- The army was assembled at Cambridge, Mass., under General Ward, and Congress was sitting at Philadelphia. Every duy new applications in behalf of the army arrived.- ''The country were urgent that Congress should legalize the raising of the army; as they had, what must be considered and armed rebels. - The country was plated in circumstances of, pecuniary difficulty and danger. The stroggle had begun, and yet every. thing was without order. The great trial now seemed to be in this questlon, Who shall be the Com- mander-in-Chief ? It was exceedingly im- portant, and was felt to be the hinge. ou which thg. contest might turnfor or against us. The Sogthern and the Middle States iq ahoip «es! . part- were jealous of New England, because they lelt the real physical force was here; what then was to be done ? All New Eng- land adored Gen, Ward}; he had been in the Freach war, and went out ladened with lau- rels. He was a scholar and a statesman. 'Every qualification ecemed to cluster in him; and it was confidently believed that the army could not receive any appointment over him. What then was to be done? Dif. ficulties thickened at every step. The strog- gle was to be long and bloody. Without u- anion all was lost. The country and the whole couniry must come in. One pulsation must beat through all hearts. The cause was one and the army must be one. The members had talked, debated, considered and gnessed, and yet the decisive step had not been taken. At length Ms. Adame came to his conclusion. The means of resolving it were somewhat eingulur, and nearly as followe: He was walking one morning before Congress Hall. apparently in deep thought, when his cousin Samuel Adams came up to him and said. 'What is the topic with you this morning 7 'O the army, the army,' he replied. 'I'm determined to go into the hall this morning and enter on a detail of the state of the colo- nies. in order to show un absolute need of taking some decisive steps. My whole aim will be to induce Congress to appoint a day for adopting the army of these united colo- nies of North America, and then to hint at my election of a Commander-in-Chiel?' 'Well, eaid Samuel Adama, like that cousin John ; but on whom have you fixed as that Commander T' 'I will tell you-George Washington, of Virginia, a member of this house. 'Ob,' replied Samuel Adame, quickly, that will never do, never.\ 'It must do, it shall do,' eaid John, 'and for these reasons: the Southern and Middle States are both to enier heartily in the cause; and their arguments are potent: they sry that New England army, a New England commander, with New Eogland perseverance all united, appal them. For this canse they hang back. Now the ogly courme is to allay their plain of; and way but by appointing a Southern Chie mass, aad that mass will be resistless.' comaiance, and John asked his cousin to se- cond the motion. Mr. Adams went in, took the floor. and put forth all his atrength, in the delineations he had prepared, all aiming at the adoption of the army. He was ready to own the urmy, appoint a commander vote supplies, and proceed to business. After his some objected. and some feared. Hie warmth doubts and hesitations be replied. ' Gentlemen,it this Congress will not adopt d that ihe harmgh) of their dlepands apon ints of the mudpmbagiw a ha T hacrick man hera? came-hack-for-a-ots- ond boule of the ' Restorer\ . Whather tha frst bottle tilled or curse him is, to the chrop Tock the cradle to their feeliogs in mes» him or Saturday. | On Monday morning. the first thing that mgt his eyes on openiog his tewepaper was the loss of Jacob's vessel, which he badub drickedly idxored 68 Supday, 'Then he ditcovered the caning _atibigaity FalJacob's core-\ ha bas haard trom - tin.“ I{ there is any plcehera 1 Sketo ancther, 'said ver | Thad il foe single-handed.' 'This had the desired effect, They saw New England was neither hor to be [playes % A day was ized Ircame. Mr.Adams went io, took the floor. orged the measure, and af- w as in law considéred only a mob, a band of msfielivemd- fears, and give them nothing to com- | this can be done in no other over this force, and theo all will rush to the: ataodard. 'This pohcy will blend as in one Atthis, Samuel Adams seemed greatly moved. They talk ayer the preliminary cir- speech had been finished, some doobted, facreased with the occasion, and to all these this army, before ten moons bave cet, New Eogland will adoptit, and she will undér arm, and a clean conscrence she will frontthe ' Gentlemen, I know they are weedful at this erisis in. this chief. Does any one bay they are notto be obtained in this country ? Io reply, 1 have to say they are; they reside in one of our own body, and he is the person whom I now nominate-George Washington, of Virginia. - . Washington, who sat on Mr. Adams' right hand, who was looking hiro intently 'in the face; to watch the name was about to an- nounce, and not expecting it would be his. sprang from his seat the minute he heard it and rushed into an adjoining roum.' Mr. Adams had asked \his cousin Samuel to ask for ndjournment gs soon as the nomination \waa made, in order 1d give the members time been publioy but it \ substaniially To deliberate, and the result is before the worldy I asked Mr. Adams, among other questions ! the following :- Did you ever doubt of the success of the conflict ? _. oe *No, no? said he, 'not for a moment. I expected to be hung and quartered, if I was ceught; but no matter for that-imy country would be free ; 1 know George IH. could not forge chains long enough and strong enough to reach round these United States' Omoarn or Texts.-The custom of taking a textas the basis of a sermon or lecture is said to have originated with Earn. who,. we are told, recompanied by several Levites in a public congregation of men and women, recended a pulpit, opened the book ol the law, and after addressing a prayer to the Dei- ty, to which the people said 'Amen,' 'read in the law of God distinctly, grave the sense, and caused them to understand the reading.'. Previoue té thé'time of Ezra, the patriarchs, lio-assembling,, either pro- sr mep Br Ts pargce: | tion of the people, and it was not nutil the re- turn of the Jews from Babylonian captivity, during which time they had almost lost the language in which the Pentateuch was written that it became necessary to explain, as well as to read the Scripture to them, a practice adopted by Ezra and since universally fol- owed. lo later times, we are told in the Acts of the Apostle, chap. 14, v 21,the book of Moses was read in the synagogue every Sab- bath day. To this laudable custom our Sa- viour conformed. and in the synagogue every Sabbath day read a passage from the proph- et Isaiah, then closing the book, returned it to the priest, and preached from the text.- This custom, which now prevaile all over the Christian 'world, wae interrupted in the dark ages, when the 'Ethics' of Aristotle were read in many churches on Sanday, instead of the Holy Scriptures. Trorn in Convensarion.-The love of truth is the stimulus: to all noble conversa- tion. The tree which springs from it may have a thousand branches, but they will all bear a golden and gecerous fruitage. It is the lefties: impulse to inquiry-willing to re- ceive-contemptous of petty curiosity, but passionate for glorious knowledge. Speech without it is but babble, Rhetori¢ more noi- ay, but less usefol than the tinman's trade.- When the love of truth fires up the passions, puta its lightning in the brain, then meo may know that a prophet is among them. 'This is the spring of all heroism, and clothes the martyr with fame that outshines the flame that kille him. Compared with this, the em- ulations of argument-the pungencies of snr- casin-the pride of togie-the pomp of de- clamation-are ns the sounds of an sutoma- tou to the voice of man.- Giles Doge Days.-The inquiry, eays the Boston Mail, is often made by persons who ought to be informed on the subject, why it is that the days intervening between the 30th Joly and the 10th of Bepterbber, are called Dog Days. Many persons euppose that daring this time dogs are sobject to dertain diseases | and their ignorance ought to be enlightened (| The true reason is an astronomical one. The 'aun's path, as it is called. but more propérly the earth's orbit, is divided into parts, which stars. That from July 30 to September 10, the eun's path lies under the star Sitios, which is in. the constellation of Canis Major, or Great Dog. thirty-one stars. of which Strus is the brighi- est. and often takes the name of the dog star. 'This is what gives the name to Dog Days, and those who fear the dogs will ran mad particalarly at this time, may dismiss their apprehensions. grovnd, that the white letters will appear lurger, and be read at a greater distance \t whichthe was -to unoounterach are noted by certain fixed stars, or alusters of This constellation consists of Trnapmemow | or Ltewr-it is & curious) : fact, that if the same sized | letters fre pain- | docted very eilently. ed meek so, ted on two boards, the one white op n black | out obtrofiing questions -of deliGaty ground, and the other blatk on on a whitd | viduals, Further Ipofdents, Connected -with Fig £10 pl Pipe, - +o. The countengnee of Prof. Websterin-death: was sereng, and even pleasant, in ith, sion, eshibiting-no-_digcoloration distortion.: The.genial, beaming. stnilewith seemed to bave just passéd its trace. wer Taus (d Boon after the body was ept: dows 7 Putnam repaired to Cambridge to cate intelligence of the execution: tm-thebe; 'reaved family. For some days,: t hughidhe’ vague communication ofa friend, sheychad been anticipating that each interview with the prisoner might.be the last ;,although they left the cell and the jail on Phorpday,.ngt supposing that the execttion: would take plate the next day.. As they entered: their carriage, however, they noticed e, bustle a bout the jail, and the assembling of a crowd, from which they drew 'Hreadful abguries of the imminence of the fetal event; and when thé visit of Dr. Putnam was announted yer terday morning, they at once knew that al was over, c el aus We.drop the curtain. over the stene of do» . mestic anguish that ensued. It was not.un- relieved by hopes \that the fathér and hus- band had deeply abd sincerely repented of hig crime; and tha; the bitterness of,desth.gas alleviated by sincere religions preparation and prayer to the Most High, e The following letter, wriuen op the 6th ult., by Prof. Webster to the Rev. Dr. Fran- cis Parkman, the brother dfDr. George Park- man, was published yesterday, by authority. , Boston. Aug. 6, 1850. , Rev. Da. Parszman-Dear Siri I cannot, jleave this world in the peace of mind for, | which I pray. without addressing you as the head of that family which I have so deeply, injured and afflicted, to make known to you and them the bitter anguish of soul, the sin- cere contrition and penitence 1 have felt at, having been the cause of the affliction under which you and they have been called to ' mourn. I can offer no excuse for my wicked and fa- tal ebullition of passion, but what you al- | ready know ; nor would 1 attempt to palliate it. I had never, untit the two or three last interviews with your brother, felt towards him any thing but grautode for his many facts of kingoess and Afiendghip.. E’ha'LI’ hor- ~! pand ney eal to involve the lfé of your brother and: my own temporal and eternal welfare, I can even now, hardly realise. I may not from you re-, ceive forgiveness in this- world, yet I cannot: but hape and belfeve you will think of me, with compassion, and remémber e tn your prayers to Him that will not turn avrey from the humble and repentant. Had I many lived, .with what joy would 1 lay them down conic? 1 in the least gtone for the injury 1 have done, or alleviate the affliction I have caused ; but IL can now only pray for forgiveness for my-, self, and for every consolation and blessing upon every member of your family; o In justice to those dearest to ffre, {Hag to\ assure you. and 1 entreat you to believe me, \ no one of my family had the elightest doubt of my entice innocence up tothe Moren when the contrary was carhmunlégxed' td them by Dr. Putnam. | That they have your i sincere pily and sympathy, I feel assured. There is no family, towards every member | of which I have always felt a greater degrea of respect and regard, than that of which you are the bead. From more than one I have } received repeated acts of friendship and kind« | nees, for which I have ever been, and am, most truly grateful. Towards yourself, in particular, have not only thy own feelings been those ol the most sincere regard and gratitode, but every individual of my family has felt towards you that you were theif pas- tor and their friend. Often has my wife re- called the interest you took fo her, from her [first becoming your parishioner; and often | has she spoken. with feelings of deep grati- | tude. of the influence of your public minidtra- | tions, and of your private instroctions and |conversauons, and of your direction of her enquiries and reading, in what related to her religions views. These she has often recall | ed and referred to.os having firmly establish- ied the religious faith and trust which afe I now such sources of consolation and support to her and our children. ; As to myself. nothing that has occurred | has weakened those feelings ; and although «thore | leave behind me may not meet you | without the keenest anguish, I trurt you will , exonerate them from any participation it, or j knowledge of, the father's sin, up to the me- { ment 1 have mentioned; and may yoo ra- member them in your prayers to the Father of the taiKerless, and the widow's God. I beg you, my dear sir, to consider this: (etrictly a private letter, and by no méans to | give it publicity ; at ttre. camo- tiime, 4wil request you to make known to the immedi- ate members of your family thi state of uy , ' feelings, amd my contrition. © That every consolation and blessing may be vouchsafed to yourself and to every mam-. | ber of your factily, is the heartfeh prayer of p- Yours, J. W. Wassrtesi' 'The Funeral of Prof Web¥fcr whs cbb- iBat with- # correct Recodut can birdly Ar it, ¥apethe Cour» 4 ?~- tamed. fer, the body was taken from the Fa 4 ~ +4 7 bef anton lit the octasioif\fo Tave overpowered fhe so as | ~ than the black. This is owing to. whai is on thid, that the ifapression made on the bow tour of the eye by bright objects exiendis wider this the portion bf the of- by the light,, aod invading. t ed by tha darker objects, makes Appest large? than they really calle¥ the irradhtionr of Tight I aemflmdga to bis boose in Cai neral services were <perfonti¢d by Drs Wa Fer, when the remaini were: o r0th0 fash- iy tomb sit Moobt Aubtien, iid deposited tha\ ~dyqfcca§id§fih ecaredat x disker patiy. ¢earkhBik fer hia 4 drebs.
