Year: 1875

OF private character, between paste,


and people. Almost every secluded


valley furnished subjects for great his


toric pictures to one who had the sou


to conceive the moral grandeur of the
scene and the heart to feel the deer
pathos they exhibited.


Such occurred In two little Villages
in New England-one in Massachusetts.
and the other in Connecticut. Stock.
bridge, nestled in a secluded valley
along the H6tisatonic river, was at the
west end of the state yet it had felt
the fierce phlsations at Boston, and
minute men had been enrolled to start
at the first call to arms. Deacon Cleve-
land aud another leading member Of
the church had been selected, from
their position in the center of tie val
ley, to call these together by precon-
concerted signal the moment the
courier arrived with the news of the
first shedding of American blood. 1t
was on Sabbath morning that the
messenger darted into the little village
on headldhg gallop. The son Of the
deacon related to friend of mine how
the news was received. The Sabbath
was kept with Jewish strictness there,
and not a sound broke the profound
stiffness that rested over the quiet val
ley. He was sitting in the room when
he was startled by the report of mus
ket in the back yard. Rushing out, he
saw his father-the good deacon
standing with gun in his hand. the
smoke still curling around his head in
the the damp atmosphere. He stood
transixed in dumb astonishment.
Before he had time to recover, he heard
another musket go off and saw in the
next yard one of the pillars of the
church with a gun in his hand Know
ing nothing of the arrangements that
had been made, he was totally bewilder-
ed and said he thought the Judgment
day had come. In few moments ke
saw the streets filled with men running
at full speed, making straight for his
fathers house, and soon the porch was
crowed with them. They knew what
those two musket shots meant ringing
out on the Sabbath air, and DR.. West,
the pastor, also knew, and he was soon
seen coming down the hill toward the
same place Of rendezvous. 1t was a
cold, drizzly morning, and as, with an
umbrella over his head and the Bible
under his arm, he came up the steps,
his benevolent face revealed the emotion
that filled his heart. Opening the
Bible, he read portion of the Scrip
ture; he then prayed with them and
made a short address, telling them it
was Gods cause they were about to
engage in, and exhorted them to be
valiant and to suffer, and, if need be,
die for it. He gave them his solemn
benediction, and in twb hours twenty
men, wish knapsacks on their backs
and muskets on their shoulders, had
started en foot for Boston, hundred
and fifty miles distant. Titus, in every
parish; the minister was the centre
of lnfuence. To him came the first
messages for help, and to him every
voting man of Ills CONGREGATION looked
fdf advice and direction.


As companion picture To this strik-
ing scene; take the following ore that
occurred in the village of Sharon,
Conn. Rev. Cotton Mather Smith was
pastor of the church, and from the
outset enlisted With all his soul in the
great question of colonial rights AT the
the breaking out of hUstillities he was
appointed chaplin to the Connecticut
troops at Ticonderoga, but after awhile
he was taken sick with Che camp fever
anc came near dying. On recovering;
he returned to his parish, and by his
appeals and efforts sent scores of young
men to the war. Like every other
patriot, he was deeply excited over the
march of Burgoyne from Canada,
knowing that, tit were successful: New
England would be cut off from the
other colonies by Gordon Of posts from
New York to the st. Lawrence, and
the struggle, to all human appearance,
be ended. This excitement deepened
after the drawn battle at Saratoga in
September, and he appealed so earnest
ly to his congregation that every young
man capable of bearing arms hurried
Oft to join the army, and he bad none
but old men and women to preach to.
1t was sad to look over his congregation
and see it shorn of its strength and
glory: Although thousands of hearts
were filed with gloomy forebodings and
every ear was turned eagerly to the
North for the next tidings, that might
be the knell of all hope, Dir. Smith
never doubted of the result. His faith
seemed prophetic. The autumn deep
ened and October came with its dreamy
days and faded foliage; and still the


dreaded yet longed-for news delayed.


At length, one Sabbath morning Mr.


Smith took for his text" Watchn,an
auhot Of the might2 The acatchnaan said,
Ihe n'orning cometh" F." The question
was every ones heart, On every ones
lips !; but who could say, '.TAe morning
cometh =! After dwelling On Gods