Morning journal and courier., 1881-01-17
NathnnteI Locelyn.


 One of the highest compensations for the ills of this life is the memory of beautiful and lovable characters. It was among my privileges to have known Nathaniel Jocelyn. He was a man in his prime when l first knew hinn-'tk knew him as boy knows & man" This was about the year 1832-1833.
 My acquaintance was through a brother five years older than myself, who sketched from nature. a rare accomplishment in those days. He taught me in his sketehing tours to derive joy from nature, as shown in the beautiful unsurpassed scenery, the woods, the waters, and the picturesque hills and mountains that lie in and around my native town of New Haven.
 My brothers tastes led him to cultivate Mr. Jocelyn, and he took me to his studio, in the marble block on Chapel street, where learned to look upon the painter with fond and admiring eyes.
 MT. Jocelyn was then the handsomest man had ever seen, and of his especial type (the blonde) now think the handsomest. His figure was rather short, but in perfect symmetry with a finely shaped, well-poised head and well-chiseled features, mild blue eyes and a complexion like peach. His whole air was gentle and sunny, and he seemed to identify himself with beauty and goodness.
 With his brother s. s. he early espoused the anti-slavery cause, but never, like some of those early abolitionists, became embit- tered thereby through the scorn and con- tempt that was cast upon them by the gen eral public for their advocacy of the rights of the blacks. When in Sept, 1881, an attempt was made to establish a high school for the ed ucation of the blacks, he, with his brother, John W. Barber and Charles Monson, were the only men in town meeting assembled that had the moral courage to vote in favor of the project. These men faced more than hornets nest-it was town full of indig- nant citizens.
 On hot summers day some four or five years since, came here from my then Gin cinnati home on short visit. Pausing in front of the Yale Art School saw sitting on the front step, with folded arms in easy atti- tude an old gentleman bareheaded talking with stranger standing by him. In few moments recognized in the former MT. Jocelyn, whom had not seen in many years. He was much changed. Still something of the
 
 that makes each look different from his fel- low, and shows that nature never repeats it. self on s'the human face divine"
 tsHow do you do, MT. Jocelyn ?'' said He thereupon looked up with puzzled air, gazed for 8 moment and then rejoined, stI do not remember you, sir. This rather pleased me, for like sometimes to be for gotten, and so, without gratifying his curi- osity, thus went on: '<Mr. J., remember you as yonng man more than forty years ago. You were very handsome then, 1.-the, graceful figure, with 8 brilliant complexion and mild blue eyes. One incident especial Iy remember. It was during the financial panic of 1887, by which the land im- provement enterprises in which you and Dea- con Dean were engaged came to sudden stand still. At that lugubrious period one day-a gloomy, overcast day-you and the deacon were standing conversing in my pres ence in front of the old Trumbull Gallery, shot down his beams upon you; whereupon you exclaimed, 'Ahl it does a man good these hard times to have streak of sunlight strike down upon him.
 While I was talking he had guessed me out, and as I concluded, inquired, C Is it Howe?r ''Yes, it is'' "You were speak ing" ," resumed he ssof my personal appear ance when was young; you will excuse me if relate an anecdote of myself at that era When in London I purchased some apples of an old crone of woman at Q street corner. had not money enough to pay her into copper; but without a word I dropped all I had into her hand. She counted the apples and counted the coppers, and then on look ing up into my face, she broke into smile, as she exclaimed, "Take them young man, take them because you are so hG7adSome t' This tribute to youthful manly beauty we thought at the time one of the prettiest things we ever heard And we were glad to hear it fresh from the lips of our venerable friend. That old woman must have been a jewel in very rough casket.
 
 Death is ever present. Change is the uni versa1 law. In the short space of time since we have returned to dwell in our native town many of those who knew us of yore and who have shaken hands with us to welcome our return have passed away-John W. Mans field, David J. Peck, Alfred Blaekman, Judah Frisbie, Henry White, Charles Ives and now Nathaniel Jocelyn. Who next
 In the meanwhile the morning song is re- peated with joy and gladness, and the voices of children are heard in the streets Beauti- full life, if as it draws to its final close, the lengthening shadows point to more glorious morrow.