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^ iTttmil|) Nctpgpgper; SJ^i30tc& to |3oittkg« iltigcieUaiiB, Agriculture, aniii ®m ral Jntcliigeiia. tfep i* W. F. & & n. BILDWIN, Proprietors. \^O L U M E 2.-N O . 45. DENRY W IR D , E d ilo r .—T e rm s—$ l,iS 5 P e r A jwum - L IT C H F IE L D , ( C O M . ) M A Y 3. 1849. Business €acds. W H O L E NO. T U E O D O R E K G L IX K S G , Attorney A Councilor a t Law, Jk F N r , CONN. 10 HENRY I. PUIiIiER, A t t o r n e y & C o u n s e l l o r a t I j a w And CommkKioiicr of Seeds for N. I . State, South Kent, Conn. t J E O R G E W . P E E T . A t t o r n e y & C o u n s e l l o r a t L a w N o t a r y P u b l i c , ill tiie Office of Villiain M. Bnrrall, Esq., South CananH, Ct. i l A N D A L L & B E 1 J 3 E N , A t t o r a e j s & C o u n s e l l o r s a t I < a w , S^Mon in Clianeery, Land Agents, ftc. T h k t will nitciM) promptly to nil busineM en> trusi«-tl lo tlieir irmnasenterit. Mifwaukie, Witc«i,siii, Dec. lith, 1848. O U S T E R A . G . T O D D , A t t o r n e y &. C o u n s e l l o r a t l « a w , OF F IC E asxt building *ouih of the Mansion op «uun. Litek/ild, April 6th. i848. , ly 42 poetical. For the Republican. The fullowing lines by our Salisbury correspondent, are full of beautiful sentiment, expressed in a strain of na tu ra l and graceful melody. They nr« vrortby of a place in any of the lite rary publications of the d a y : E . W . B L A K E , DENTIST. 4M B c e , c o r n e r o f l l v r t f a & .E a c t s in . Litchfield, M«y 10,1848. 4<> P . P . H U M P H R E Y , M . D , P H Y S I C I A N & S U R G E O N , Falls Village, Conn. TELEGRAPH OFfIc^ OF TH£ C o n n . a n d V f , T e l e g r a p h L i in e . ConunnBicatioBs sent to ail paits of (lie Union. O r r i c c AT Baldwins’ VA»iBTr Stork, L IT C H F IE LD , CO^'N. Jtt til ifc IILM R , " SUBSfiRIPTION A NO ADVEflTISING , / m . « S 'K 3 ] m r ' 3 r ' 9 . Philadelphia, New Ytrk, Balt more and Bustm, G. G. BISSELL , M. D ., P h y s i c i a n a n d S u r g e o n B c th lem , C(. 42tf Of f ic k ovkr t h e P ost-Of f sc e . C . M . H O O K E R , RESIDENT DENTIST M'A‘Y be consulieJ AT Atl. TiMXS, (ui^Iefs ___prolbssioiially absent,) at liis O F F IC E OVER “ T H E VARIETY STORE.” Litchfield, April 3,1849. 41 NEW 6000$ I GRAH1VIS8 Jb Co. HA VE just opened a large and splendid assortment of Millinery I and Fancy Goods, COXSI8TIKO OF Ribbons, Flowers and Trim-niiiigK ctf all Uiiids. 'I'lisran and n Straw Bonnets of all ltjtr!s and /* prices!—French and Anieriraii L»»f* Bonnets, of which we have a GREAT VAR IE T Y , and atvery LOW tR IC E S . Pamelea, Verona, Drab and White Chip. A great vurirly of Ladies’ Lace Caps and Head Drnses. Silk, Satin and Lawn. ^ n n e t s Ready Made and made to order by the best ( / morktuau, and at sltort notice. T V A large stock of Genu’ Straw Hats. Particular attention paid to altering, bleaching And pressing old Bonnet^ Men's Hats, etc. Work warranted to be done ir«Z/. 8 ® ® © S » l^atent Clastic Band, (a new invention,) Patent IPew Handles, Diamond Point Steel Pent, Silver flPenciis. Combs of all kinds, Purse Twist, Steel £ead«. Rings and Tassels, 6a^ Clasps and Fringe A.^Orsat variety of Ladies’ Kid, Silk, Lisle ^ ^ re sd , Cotlun Gktves, Oanu’ Kid Gloves Hair, <vdvet and tooth brushes, note paper, envelopes, .waten, motto wafers, artificial hair, hair oil, i>er> jfmmery, ALSO, Accordions, Dolls, Toys, F«iM!y 8«xes, etc., etc., too numerous lo mention. I I . B. J f i ll i im from adjoining towns, supplied a« usual. New Goods received weekly. Bleacbinj; and Pressing_done in the best nwn-ner. A!1 Order»«Mendri to, immediately. F keosxck A. G aankiss, ' Srsirxr H. OsAiriritrs, . Utek/kld,AprU4tk 41 L i n e s t o a F r i e n d . To thee my humble harp awakes; My untaught genius swoops its s tr in g s ; Discordant a re the sounds i t makes. And feeble arc the notes it brings. • But Nature has this lesson given, T hat to all are not the same ; Some point to e arth, and some to Heaven. And some to win u n d y u g fame. And would you know the boon I ask. The priceless trea su re I would win i I t simply is. th a t I may bask. Where Friendship’s rays wake love within. And will you g ran t th a t heavenly boon. And provfc thyself forever tru e ? And should my earthly sun a t noon. Sink down to rest, and pass from view : O b ! then, methinks, a transient thought Will flit from Mem’ry’s hidden ccll. Recalling lime th a t oft has brought Fond hopes from Pleasure’s happy dell. Those joy-winged hours, how swift they flew ! Unhccdedly they onward sped ; And oft when twilight shadows threw Their darkened curtain ’round my h e ad ; ^Vhen Fortune frowned and chilled the heart. And Envy smiled in wanton glee. And Slander hurled her poisoned dart. Then was thy friendship sweet to me. Those soothing tones, so mild and sweet, That flow from sacred Friendship’s voice. From you are never counterfeit, But spring from pure affection's choice. Thrice sacred to my h e art shall be. As time unceasingly shall roll. The hours when d ^ k ^ ___ IS soni. For now I know the real worth Of faithful fri ends th a t ’round me glide. That sends a glow around the hearth Of love, in p u rity and pride. Life’s feeble bark in which we s.oil Upon Life’s tossing, billowy tide. Oft glides before a pleasant gale. When borne upon the occan wide. What if dark clouds oft hover o’er. And angry winds around us blow. Faith bids our spirits upward soar. I t bids us leave these scenes below. I t whispers of redeeming love. Of Jesus’ pardoning grace divino. Of yon bright world in Heaven above. Which can be yours, which can be mine. Then let earth’s fairest scenes depart, Her pleasures flit on wings of Time, I f love b u t dwells within the. h e art. No transient joys can e’e r combine. False Friendship, proua and fickle dame. She comes in Summer’s smiling h o u r ; She calls herself by Friendship’s name. And lingers oft in Love’s own bower. B a t when the wintry tempests lower. She plumes her wings, a n d ^ c s away. And seeks again ^ome rosy bower. Where Pleasure ever beareth sway. But thine is not fiUse F riendship’s name; 'fo lurking smiles like h«rs hast thou ; And when to God from whence it carac. The spirit shall re tu rn , and bow ; May Angels kindly gather near, • And bind a wreath around thy brow ; Thus cheering hope dispelling fear, 0 may thy love be true as now. M. S. S. Salisbury, April 29,1849. iSlistellaneous. Christian Responsibility. BY GEOBGE WATERMAN JR. NEW GOODS. «Mortraent of aeasoiuible DRESS Mtl GOODS—UDOBK whick are, aome hare just received from New York, ft ofaMii *• DOBff W r a tj gooi Calicoes, ^44 a n a 6^ e ts .; GbifhAins • t 10 ctti, i Splendid Mvslins and Lawns, a t 15 iB ^ ; Bleadied Cottons, a t 7 e t s . ; and m a ^ e^Mr Btjim eqnallv low. a t the ** Variety S t f f . - W. ? . & G. IL BALDWIN. U teUMtl. April 4,1849. 41 ' If an inkttfaitant from some other world siiould be permitted in his flight through the universe to visit our globe, his feelings at the sight which should be presented to his view, might be more easily conceived of than described. He would see an entire world of immortal beings in revolt against Jehovah—whose attention was engrossed abput the things connected with their short residence here, to the almost complete exclusion of their eternal state. Hu sympathies would be excited immediately in their behalf; and with feelings of deep solicitude he might be led to in-a aire if no remedy had been provided for iieir otherwise inevitable ruin. For the first time the story of the incarnation is related to him by some attendant spirit.— He bears with astonishment and adtnira-tion. He is amazed at the infinite condescension^ the Redeemer, and at the carelessness and want of interest mauifested by those whom he came to save. With mingled feelings of wonder and pity, he seeks the reason and the consequences.— But no celestial inhabitant can give hiui a satisfactory answer to that most important of all questions, Why do sinners reject the offer of a Saviour love ? in his unchecked flight through the universe of God, he ha» passed the great pi ibon house of despair, and heard the lamentations of its inmates. And now, when he hears that they arose in part from those, who, having neglected this oH'ered salvation, were suffering the just peuuity of their disobedience, we may co»;ct!i\ e him inquiring with intense earnestness. Cannot 1 bear part in telling those who are yet within the reach of mercy, the glad news of salvation ? With a speed which leaves thought far behind, he wings his way to the Eternal throne, and with the deepest reverence and submission prostrates himself before the Ruler of the universe, and makes known the desire of his heart. His zeal and benevolence are approved by Jehovah ; but he is told that this work had been committed to human instrumentality, that the glory might appear entirely of God. And here we miglit well pause and ask ourselves. Is this true ? Has God indeed committed this task to mortals ? Are the professed followers of Chribt engaged in an enterprise which is denied to angelic minds ? How great the honor! Kow awful the responsibilities ! Who can estimate them ? What mind is sufficiently strong to compute them ? W hat science shall we call to our aid ? Where shall we seek for the responsibilities of the Christian Church at the present day ? Shall we summon the whole celestial hierarchy to answer the momentous question ? it is into such things that they desire to look. Shall we ask the regions of the lost ? A deep wail of un-uterable woe is our only answer. Shall we go to the heathen world, and there ask the responsibilities of tho.-<c in Christian lands ? Our question rings through the massive hails of their crowded temples, and re-echoes from their lofty domes, or from the shady heights of their sacred groves. But answer there is none, save HiU ere the sound has died away upon the breeze, a voice from the eternal world declares— ■'Such responsibiiitis can. only le measured by the worth of the soul." To know ITS value we must know the constitutional susceptibilities of the human mind to pleasure or pain, even in this world; and then we must lift the veil which separates time from' eternity, and follow the immortal ^ i r i t to its last abode. The susceptibilities of the human mind to pleasure, even in this life, are almost infinite in extent and variety. Who can tell the amount of happiness which may spring from memory and imagination— from’reason and conscience, even in the present state of existence ? Said a justly celebrated divine in a late di^ourse, “ If all the pleasures of all the inferior animals which have existed since the creation, could be concentrated upon one, with the aggregate of all their capacities for enjoyment, yet the human mind, even in this world, possesses the capacity of a much greater amount, and of a much higher order.” If this be true, what a field -does it open to our view! But let us attempt to follow this immortal mind into eternity. There these capacities for enjoyment will be ever on the increase—its every faculty expanding, and expanding, and expanding, so long as the throne of God shall lost, or inmiortality endure. As the undying spirit passes through one age after another in the infinite series of eternity, it will arrive at a point in which its suscejjtibilities of happiness will far exceed those of Gabriel at the present moment; and then it still has an eternity before it to expand and increase— forever approaching the infinite capacities of Jehovah, without the possibility of ever attaining them. What a thing is the immortal mind I In heaven the means for the gratification of these susceptibilities are commensurate with the susceptibilities themselves—increase with their increase, .and run parallel with the existence of the soul. Its every want is anticipated and provided for ; and its capacity for enjoyment, and^ts real enjoyment, will increase in geometrical progression throughout the unending cycles of eternity. But the susceptibilities of the human mind are as great to pain as they are to pleasure. In this scene of existence, happiness and misery are only relative terms —they are mingled emotions— “ F o r every b itte r hath its sweet. And every rose its thorn.” But in eternity, all will be happiness, pure and unalloyed ; or all will be misery, dire and unmingled. In the world of despair, those ever expandinjj susceptibilities to pleasure will only meet with an eternal disappointment, while those to pain will feast forever on the repast supplied by unending remorse. Could we with Milton enter the walls of the eternal prison— “ High reaching to the horrid roof; And thrice threefold the gates; thee folds of brass. Three Iron, and three of adamantine rock, and there view the misery of the lost, we might be able to form some idea of the worth of the soul. There death eternal reigns. There—as portrayed by the ancient bard of earth—^ F a r out i t th ru s t a d a rt th at might have madu knees of te r ro r quake, and on it hung Within the triple barbs, a being pierced riirongh soul and body both; of heavenly make. Original the being seemed, but fallen, And worn and wasted with enormous wo; And still around the everlasting lance I t writhed convulsed, and u ttered dreadful groans. And tried and wished, and over tried and wished To d ie ; b u t could not die.” How dreadful the portraiture ! Yet how far does it tall below the dreadful reahty! The period will probably come—though perhaps far ofi^ in the vista of eternal years when each lost spirit will endure at every moment, more misery than all the collected and concentroted wo which now invests the world of despair. And even then,a miserable eternity is still in prospect. Verily, what shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world, and in the end lose his own soul ? Do Christians feel these things to bo living realities ? Do they burn with intense anxiety for the immediate salvation of all over whom they exert an influence ? Do they realize that the influence of their examples may instrumentally seal the eternal happiness or misery of some whom they hold most deaj; ? When the Church, both ministry and people, shall feel the full weight of the responsibilities which rest upon them, and put forth corresponding action—-then will revival follow revival in quick succession throughout the length and breadth of the land. Efforts will be put forth for the extension of the Redeemer’s kingdom, such as have not been since the days of primitive Christianity. The wealth of the Church will be consecrated to glorifying God in the salvation of souls; and the angel having the everlasting Gospel to preach to the nations of the earth shall be heard flying through the midst of heai^n, while close behind him shall be heard tho sound of an- __ a loud voice, ‘Mt is finished— the kingdoms of this world have become the kingdoms of our Lord, and of his Christ; and he shall reign for ever and ever.” And the grand chorus of the celestial choirs shall burst forth in louder and sweeter sounds than ever before, “ Alleluia, for the Lord God omnipotent reign-eth.” And earth, redeemed and sanctified, shall re-echo the sound, “ Alleluia, for the Lord God omnipotent reigneth.” Old Bachelors. Old Bachelors are hateful things. And ought to be despised ; With hearts like broken fiddle-strings. And ju s t as little prized. Untuned to love’s soft thi-illing touch. No pleasures do they know ; They feel not, and they taste not much. Of happiness below. The joys of wedlock, whicb they spurn. With all its numerous cares— E ’en for one y ear, should love’s lamp b a rn Are worth an age of theirs. Were all like them the human race Would soon be swept away ; And even earth, to th eir disgrace. Would tumble to decay. The social bond—that bond so sweet. Where h e a r t and soul unite ; Where friendship, love and union meet. Would sink in endless night. But ’tis in vain for me to prate, I cannot make them clever ; Old Bachelors I always hate. And must, and shall, forever. O n l y a B a d C o l d . T lie e f f e c t o f CliaTCoal o n I 'lo w e r s . Impenetrable, impaled with circling fire. Yet nnconiaped/’ The sole secret of eminence in literature and science, consists in concentrating the powers of the mind, with deep and fixed attention upon the subject that is before it, imtil it is completely mastered, in all its bearings. Thus, the mind is invigorated, and goes on, step by step, to the achieve-m< mt of new acquisitions in knowledge.— Some have read books enough to form a pyramid; and yet know nothing aright.— Their mental powers have drivelled down to partial idiocy; for the plain and simple reason that they have never digested what they have perused; and it has, therefore, done them no good, i f you wish to excel in any good thing, you must acquire a vigorous and active concentration of thought, reflection, and practice. The Pi ess.—The press is a messenger of truth, the herald of science, the interpreter of letters, the amanuensis of history, and the teacher of futurity. Like the sun, it dispels the gloom of night, irradiates the shade of ignorance, and pours a flood of knowledge on the world: it dilates the perceptions of man, extends his intellectual vision, inspires his heart with sensibility, and his mind with thought,* and endows him with past and present omnicience (huuutnly speaking;) it directs his way to the temple of fame, and. discovers to him the path by angels trod to Zion’s holy hill. A very distinguished Clergyman once said to a lady of his congiega-tion, who was famous for her bad time when she sung, and thereby seriously disturbed in their devotions those whose seats joined hers—“ I have serious fears for your future state, my dear madam if you have not more ideas of Eternity than you have of Time, A Tough one sure Enough.—The Louisville Courier is responsible for the following “ tough one” told of an old gentleman who was robbed during the Taylor reception. He was so careful of his pocket-book that he put it in his breeches pocket put his hand in it, and pinned up the pocket and yet the adroit rogues whilst the old man was enthusiastically cheering the General unpinned the pocket book took out his hand abstracted the money, replaced the pocket book put the hand back, and pinned the pocket again wihout discovery. Absence of Mind,—Ask a man what’s the word ? ten to one he will tell you gold —bright ^old 1 Affk him how his wife is and he will tell you “ she yields eighty pw }eent" The following extract cannot fail to be interesting to the botanist and the chemist, as well as to every lady who has a rose bush in her garden, or a flower-pot in her parlor. It is from the “ Paris Horticultural Review,” of July last, translated by Judge Meigs, of New York, for the Farmers’ club of the American Institute. The experiments described were made by Robert Berands, who says : “ About a year ago, 1 made a bargin for a rose-bush, of magnificent growth and full of buds. I waited for them to blow and expected roses worth]^ of such a noble plant, and of the praises bestowed upon it by the vender. At length, when it bloomed, all my hopes were blasted. The flowers were of a faded color, and I discovered that I had only a middling multiflora, stale enough. 1.therefore resolved to sacrifice il to some experiments which I had in view. My attention had been captivated with the effects of charcoal, as stated in some English publication. I then covered the earth in the pot, in which my rosebush was, about half an inch deep with pulverized charcoal! Some days uter, I was astonished to see the roses which bloomed, of as fine lively rose color as 1 could wish! I determined to repeat the experiment; and therefore, when the rosebush had been done blowing, I took oflF all the charcoal and put fresh earth about the roots. You may conceive that I waited for the next spring impatiently, to see the result of thij experiment, VVhen it bloomed, the roses soon resumed their rosy color. I tried the powdered charcoal likewise in large quantities upon my petunias, and found that both the white and violet flowers were equally sensible of its action. It always gave great vigor to the red cr violet tints ; the violets became covered with irregular spots of a bluish or almost black tint. Many persons who admired them, thought that they were new varieties from the seed. Yellow flowers are (as I have proved) indispensible to the influence of the charcoal.” A Dutchman, up at Schaghticoke, by the name of Kendrick, had a son by the name of Jacob. Yaupy as the Dutch usually call it, with whose education he had taken much pains instructing him all the rudiments of good breeding, &c., ^ntil he became satisfied that his. boy Yaupy was a pattern of obedience and good manners; and he took' every occasion to show off Yaupy’s accomplishments and' sound his praises among his neighbors. He said that “ Yaupy had more larnin’ den most all de boys in de school; he can read terough de spelling book end spell all through all de reading books, and can teil all de pictures in de big Bible !” Kendrick was visited one day by the dominie, who called to inquire into the state of his moral and religious Hffairs and to give instruction to his family. Kendrick, thinking it a good opportunity to show off his paragon of a son, and wishing, at the saijie titne, to bo kind and civil to his dominie, called out to his boy in an adjoining.room : “ Yaupy, you go down in de cellar, and draw de tominie a pitcher of cither ; bu—** “ Go to the devil, father.” said Yaupy, “ and draw the cider yourself; you know where it is as well as I do.” This was a stumper for poor Kendrick ; but unwilling that the doctor should go away with an unfavorable impression of Yaupy’s manners, he undertook to apologise for him r “ Tominie,” snid he dat is von of de best little boys 1 ever seed in my life ; but he has got a very bad cold now.” Tradition of Fort Moore. BV MRS. E. F. ELLET. S i x R e a s o n s f o r P l a n t i n g a n O r c h a r d . By EDSON HARKNESS. 1. Would you leave an inheritance to your children—plant an orchard. No other investment of labor and money will, in the long run, paj' so well. 2. Would you make home pleasant—the abode of fiocial virtues, plant an orchard.— Nothing better promotes among neighbors a feeling of kindness and good will, than a treat of good fruit often repeated. 3. Would you remove from your children the strongest temptations to steal—plant an orchard. If children cannot obtain fruit at home, they are very apt to steal i t ; and when they have learned to steal fruit they are in a fair way to learn to steal horses. Wouli you cultivate a constant feeling of thankfulness towards the Giver of all good—plant an orchard. By having constantly before you one of the greatest blessings ^iven to men you must be hardened, indeed if you are not ii^uenced by a spirit ofhumilityand thtinkfulness. 5. Would you have your children love their home ; respeQt their parents while living, and venerate them when dead ; in all their wanderings look back upon the home of their youth as a sacred spot—an oasis in the great wilderness of the world—plant an orchard. . 6. In short, if you wish to avail yourself of the b l e s s i n g s o f a bountiful Providence, which are within your reach, you must plant an orchard; and when ^ u do it, see that you plant good fruit. Do not plant crab apple trees, nor wild plums, nor Indian peaches nor choke pears; the best are the cheapest. Note.—It is an maxim with cultivators, that land* planted in fruit trees, of fine varieties, will yield to the acre more fo^jd for man and beast than o;ay other crop, with lesslaber. The speaker was a woman considerably ' advanced in years, thin in figure even to emaciation, and with a face-deeply seamed with wrinkles, and lighted by two small black eyes. ^ .These restless orbs gleamed with a certain' wild expression, diffictiU to define, yet often seen ia those who have been afflicted with mental alienation. She was one of those strange, privileged beings, who i n savage tribes are invested with the dignity of prophetesses, and exercise a kind of authority, derived from the super-sition of those about them. She well knew she ran no risk in extending these offices to the prisoner, which woujd have been permitted to none else. “ The chief is refreshed, and is strong again,” said Scrany.. in answer to her hospitable solicitation, “ He thanks you but he will bring you skin, if you will cut these and he pointed to the thongs that secured his feet, Th®^one shook her head. The slumber of the Shawnee is light and he is swift to chase the flying captive.— Let Scrany remember that he is a gre .t warrior-” “ His tribe is big of heart, and will slay and bum for the death of their chief. W by does a woman of the Shawnees take pity on a Muskohge warrior ?” “ Listen I Eifteen times have the leaves grown yellow and, fallen in the forest, since the young brave of the Shawanees was a captive in th hands of the Muskohge.— The stake was made ready, ^ d the warrior bound, the Indians dancedaroundhiin anc sang their war songs ; and the fire began to scorch his flesh. Then came the chiel'of the Muskohges, whom the white men cail Scrany, and cut the young warrior’s bonds. He took him home to his lodge ; he gava him skins to cover him ; he fed him with milk and bear’s meat, till his wounds were healed, and when the young brave would return to his people, he called him his sor. and gave him a bundle of arroivs. Look here!” and she produced an arrow, at sighi of which the captive’s eyes glistened witb a strange moisture. ^ . “ It is my arrow”—he cried. “ W here is the young brave ?"’ v “ He was my son. The Great Spirit has taken him. He was slain in battW, and hL mother dug him a grave by the nvef aide.” She paused, for her words were choked emotion. The Indian seemed to- gather hope. . ^ “ The chief he said—“ saved the' life of the young warrior ; he called him lj.[? soa. and let him go free. Youare hismottej: > and the Great Spirit has sent you to deliVtjf^^ the chief from the hands of his eneiu^**?, “ Scrany shall not die m u t te i^ the squaw, “ but how can 1 save him ? The woods are filled with the warriors of the Shawnees.” “ Listen !”—said Scrany. _ “ It is yet night, and the horses of the l^hawnees ar(i fleet. Take this feather, and ride to the great ^ring, three leagues from the river side. The young men of Scrany are encamped there, and watch for the coming of their chief. Bid them make haste and bring with them a hundred armed warriors.” ** Shall they slay and lay waste ?” asked the squaw, gloofauly,** I swear to ftee”—said the Indiaii, solemnly—they shall not go to battle. The woman took the feather, m the silence so characteristic of her race, m:i4 crossing her hands on her breast with obeisance , the g u a r d lifted his head obeisance to the chief, departed. ; Onec^f
|Title||Litchfield Republican, 1849-05-03|
|Uniform Title||Litchfield Republican (Litchfield, Conn. : 1847)|
|Subject||Litchfield (Conn.) -- Newspapers|
|Description||Frequency: Daily (Except Sunday); Publication dates: Vol. 7, no. 2358 (Oct. 11, 1855) -v. 21, no. 6546 (Aug. 27, 1868); Notes: Publishers Ruddock & Tibbits, 1866-1868; Published a morning edition in 1865; Weekly eds.: Weekly Democrat (New London, Conn.), 1855-<Feb. 7, 1857>, and: New London Democrat (New London, Conn.), <Feb. 8, 1862>-1868|
|Collection||Newspapers of Connecticut|
|Source - Location||Connecticut State Library microfilm, AN104.N7 S73|
|Relation||Other edition: Weekly Democrat (New London, Conn.); New London Democrat (New London, Conn.: 1861); Preceding title: Daily star (New London, Conn. : 1851); Succeeding title: Daily star (New London, Conn. : 1868)|
|Rights||Digital Image © Connecticut State Library. All rights reserved. Images may be used for personal research or non-profit educational uses without prior permission. For permission to publish or exhibit, see Reproduction and Publication of State Library Collections, http://ctstatelibrary.org/reproduction-publication/|
|Title-Alternative||Issues for July 18, 1867-1868 published as New London daily star|
|CONTENTdm file name||10912.cpd|
^ iTttmil|) Nctpgpgper; SJ^i30tc& to |3oittkg« iltigcieUaiiB, Agriculture, aniii ®m ral Jntcliigeiia. tfep i*
W. F. & & n. BILDWIN, Proprietors.
\^O L U M E 2.-N O . 45.
DENRY W IR D , E d ilo r .—T e rm s—$ l,iS 5 P e r A jwum -
L IT C H F IE L D , ( C O M . ) M A Y 3. 1849.
W H O L E NO.
T U E O D O R E K G L IX K S G ,
Attorney A Councilor a t Law,
Jk F N r , CONN. 10
HENRY I. PUIiIiER,
A t t o r n e y & C o u n s e l l o r a t I j a w
And CommkKioiicr of Seeds for N. I . State,
South Kent, Conn.
t J E O R G E W . P E E T .
A t t o r n e y & C o u n s e l l o r a t L a w
N o t a r y P u b l i c ,
ill tiie Office of Villiain M. Bnrrall, Esq.,
South CananH, Ct.
i l A N D A L L & B E 1 J 3 E N ,
A t t o r a e j s & C o u n s e l l o r s a t I < a w ,
S^Mon in Clianeery, Land Agents, ftc.
T h k t will nitciM) promptly to nil busineM en>
trusi«-tl lo tlieir irmnasenterit.
Mifwaukie, Witc«i,siii, Dec. lith, 1848.
O U S T E R A . G . T O D D ,
A t t o r n e y &. C o u n s e l l o r a t l « a w ,
OF F IC E asxt building *ouih of the Mansion
Litek/ild, April 6th. i848. , ly 42
For the Republican.
The fullowing lines by our Salisbury correspondent,
are full of beautiful sentiment, expressed
in a strain of na tu ra l and graceful
melody. They nr« vrortby of a place in any
of the lite rary publications of the d a y :
E . W . B L A K E ,
4M B c e , c o r n e r o f l l v r t f a & .E a c t s in .
Litchfield, M«y 10,1848. 4<>
P . P . H U M P H R E Y , M . D ,
P H Y S I C I A N & S U R G E O N ,
Falls Village, Conn.
C o n n . a n d V f , T e l e g r a p h L i in e .
ConunnBicatioBs sent to ail paits of (lie Union.
O r r i c c AT Baldwins’ VA»iBTr Stork,
L IT C H F IE LD , CO^'N.
til ifc IILM R , "
SUBSfiRIPTION A NO ADVEflTISING
, / m . « S 'K 3 ] m r ' 3 r ' 9 .
Philadelphia, New Ytrk, Balt more
G. G. BISSELL , M. D .,
P h y s i c i a n a n d S u r g e o n
B c th lem , C(.
42tf Of f ic k ovkr t h e P ost-Of f sc e .
C . M . H O O K E R ,
M'A‘Y be consulieJ AT Atl. TiMXS, (ui^Iefs
___prolbssioiially absent,) at liis O F F IC E
OVER “ T H E VARIETY STORE.”
Litchfield, April 3,1849. 41
NEW 6000$ I
GRAH1VIS8 Jb Co.
HA VE just opened a large and
splendid assortment of Millinery
I and Fancy Goods,
Ribbons, Flowers and Trim-niiiigK
ctf all Uiiids. 'I'lisran and
n Straw Bonnets of all ltjtr!s and
/* prices!—French and Anieriraii
L»»f* Bonnets, of which we have a GREAT VAR
IE T Y , and atvery LOW tR IC E S .
Pamelea, Verona, Drab and White Chip. A
great vurirly of Ladies’ Lace Caps and Head
Drnses. Silk, Satin and Lawn.
^ n n e t s Ready Made and made to order by the
best ( / morktuau, and at sltort notice.
T V A large stock of Genu’ Straw Hats.
Particular attention paid to altering, bleaching
And pressing old Bonnet^ Men's Hats, etc.
Work warranted to be done ir«Z/.
8 ® ® © S »
l^atent Clastic Band, (a new invention,) Patent
IPew Handles, Diamond Point Steel Pent, Silver
flPenciis. Combs of all kinds, Purse Twist, Steel
£ead«. Rings and Tassels, 6a^ Clasps and Fringe
A.^Orsat variety of Ladies’ Kid, Silk, Lisle
^ ^ re sd , Cotlun Gktves, Oanu’ Kid Gloves Hair,
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