close of the American Revolution. The church of Plymouth retained Ainsworth's version until the latter part of the 17th century. It was common for the minister to expound a little upon the Psalm before singing. Some congregations sang the psalms in course. The practice of "lining" the hymn was introduced subsequently to 1680. Gospel discipline, as tending to preserve the purity and proper humility of the church; and frequent meetings for social conference and prayer, as a means of keeping alive the warmth and efficiency of experimental religion, were highly esteemed by the Christians of New England. In short, we can not but admire the high ideal of religion which they proposed for themselves. Theirs was not a dead religion, but a "life of faith with works." It was a life of principle, sustaining them through many trials, guiding them through this world, rendering their death beds scenes of holy triumph, and blessing their children, and "their children's children, even to the third and fourth generation." This chapter would hardly be complete without some reference to a functionary — whose office, however important in the olden time - has become almost obsolete in the "fast days" in which we now live. The tythingman was a parish officer, annually elected to preserve good order in the meeting-house, during divine service; as well as to make complaint of any disorderly conduct, travel or other violation of sabbath time and ordinances. In early days, the young folks and children were seated in the galleries of the meeting-house; and being removed from the watch of their parents, required the constant attention of the tythingman, whose patience and watchfulness were often sorely tried by their mischievous antics. In some churches also, he seems to have had the additional charge of keeping the "old folks" awake; in which case, a gentle rap with the end of a long pole or staff of office was generally sufficient to bring the "lapsing senses "of the offender to a wide-awake" position. His eye and ear were also keen to detect the sound or appearance of any sabbath traveler on the high road, and such a one, quickly found their onward course arrested "in the name of the commonwealth," unless they could prove that necessity was their excuse. About the beginning of the present century, a General Armstrong (?) having been ordered to report himself promptly at Boston, was passing through Windsor on the sabbath, when suddenly his carriage came to a stand. Surprised and impatient, he called to his driver to know why he stopped; the reply was "a man here refuses to let us pass." Putting his head out of the carriage window, the general beheld the late Mr. Lemuel Welch, holding the horses firmly by the head, and very earnestly insisting that they should proceed no farther-that day at least. Angry at the supposed impertinence, the general ordered him to stand off, at the same time drawing and presenting his pistol at the intruder. But Mr. Welch was not so easily frightened. Maintaining his hold upon the horses he firmly retorted: "I've seen a bigger gun than that, sir; you can't go no farther. I've been in the Revolution and seen a bigger gun than that, sir. I'm tythingman in this town, and you can't go no farther." Finding the officer inexorable, the irate general concluded that "discretion was the better part of valor," and accordingly went back and laid the matter before Judge Oliver Ellsworth, who in his capacity of magistrate, and in view of the urgency of the case, gave him a pass, which secured him against any similar arrest within the jurisdiction of Connecticut. The occurrence, however, had a marked effect upon the observance of the sabbath in this town. Mr. Welch called on the judge, next morning, for an explanation of the case. He felt much chagrined at the escape of his prisoner, and wished to know if it was expected that he was to "fish with a net that would catch the little fish, and let the big fish run through." He resigned his office in disgust, and his successors for several years neglected to perform their duties. Finally the leading men of the town, became justly alarmed at the increase of sabbath travel, and with the judge at their, head, made strenuous efforts to restore the execution of the sabbath laws, but with only partial success. Some years later, among the conditions which entitled a man to the elective franchise was the holding of civil office, and demagogues found this a convenient office to give those not otherwise qualified for admission; and twenty-five years ago, the office of tythingman was given to men, who, if they executed the laws, would have indicted themselves every sabbath. Tythingman we believe are yet appointed, but it may with truth be said, that when the gallery pews in the meetinghouse, ceased to be the play-ground for ill-governed boys on the sabbath, the office of tythingman had fulfilled its mission. "THE PEOPLE ARE LIKE OF WOODY MORVEN, THEY THE WAVES OF THE OCEAN; LIKE THE LEAVES The origin and early history of a savage race is always so shrouded in mystery, that any attempt to investigate it must inevitably be attended with ill-success and disappointment. The restless, shifting habits of the "sons of the forest," as well as their lack of any written language or records, utterly precludes the acquisition of accurate information; and conjecture but adds to the difficulty by lending too ready an ear to tradition. On no subject connected with American history, perhaps, has so much ignorance and credulity been displayed, both by historians and the public, as in that relating to the Indian race. The results are, on the one hand, an unmerited amount of obloquy, condemnation, and contempt, which is heaped upon the name and the successors of the Indian; and, on the other, an undue exaggeration of public sympathy which invests the prosaic redman with all the poetic attributes of a savage demi-god. We must confess that we do not belong to either of these classes. We venture to express our opinion that the testimony of American history, is uniformly and unequivocally honorable to the sterling integrity of the Indian. We are not insensible to those fine physical traits and endowments which have distinguished him as the philosopher's highest type of man in the savage state. We do not wonder that his superior qualities, of mind and heart, have caused him to be invested, by poet and novelist, with a romantic interest that scarcely belongs to him. Nor can we deny that a deep and mournful interest associates itself with the history of his race. The contest between the weakness of barbarism and the strength of civilization is, in itself, always painful; and the spectacle of a whole nation, quietly but surely, wasting before the rapid advance of another, is well calculated to enlist the sympathy and awaken the interest of every generous mind. Yet we are not disposed to indulge in any undue amount of lamentation over their unhappy fate. A closer acquaintance with the subject strips it of much of its romance; and compels us to hold them, at best, as a superior race of savages, whose destiny is one of those inscrutable providences of God, whereby he prepares the land for the coming of a new and more enlightened people. It only remains for us to gather up, with pious care, the few memorials that are left us of the once happy race that possessed the land. Few indeed they are, and so rude, that, like the rough stone implements of the chase, which the farmer's plow occasionally reveals, they rather hint than assert the existence of that race. Their most imperishable record is the expressive nomenclature which they have impressed upon the mountains, streams and valleys of our land. And we are glad to see, that, throughout the length and breadth of our land, the beautiful Indian names are being carefully preserved and applied to localities, of whose characteristics they are the most poetical, because the most natural, synonymes. The number of Indians in Connecticut, although undoubtedly overestimated by the earlier historians, was larger, in proportion to the extent of territory, than in any other part of New England. "The sea-coast, harbors, bays, numerous ponds and streams, with which the country abounded, the almost incredible plenty of fish and fowl which it afforded, were exceedingly adapted to their mode of living. The exceeding fertility of the. meadows, upon several of its rivers, and in some other parts of it, |