wars of the red man, and the redman's decay-the birth and death of generations of the white man, whose axe had cut away its towering comrades of the olden time. But while preserving a fair exterior, it was inwardly wasting away, and was obliged to yield and fall in a storm far less severe than many thousands that had preceded it.

Before Governor Wylly came to America, he sent his steward forward to prepare a place for his residence. As he was cutting away the trees upon the hill-side of the beautiful "Wyllys' place," a deputation of Indians came to him and requested that he would spare this old hollow oak. They delcared that it had "been the guide of their ancestors for centuries." It was spared, to fall this day, having finally yielded to the process of natural decay.

The tree measured 33 feet in circumference at the bottom, and it has broken off so as to leave 8 feet of stump on one side and 6 feet on the other, the stump measuring 21 feet in circumference at its top.

The Charter of King Charles II., for the colony of Connecticut, arrived in Hartford in 1662, probably in the month of September, though the precise time is not known. On the 9th of October it was publicly read to the assembled freemen of Conneeticut, and was declared to "belong to them and their successors," and the people evinced their gratitude by appointing a committee to take charge of it, under the solemnities of an oath, and to preserve this palladium of the rights of the people. It contained many liberal provisions, as may be seen on examining it in the Secretary of State's office, where the original copy is still preserved with care. It was the organic law of Connecticut till the present constitution took its place in 1818.

In 1686, the general government of New England was dissolved by James II., and a new government was instituted, with Joseph Dudley as President of the Commissioners. Connecticut refused to surrender, and when the third writ of quo warranto was sent to her, Gov. Treat, in January, 1687, called a special session of the Assembly, which refused to accede to the demands of the new king. They still held to their charter. In March, another special session was convened, but still the Representatives of the people refused to "surrender." In May, they met again in regular session, under the charter, and re-elected Treat as Governor.

He entered the Assembly Remonstrances were made, The Governor and his asbrought in and laid upon moment of the colony had out, and a total darkness

On the 31st of October, 1687, Sir Edmund Andross, attended by members of his council, and a body guard of sixty soldiers, entered Hartford to take the charter by force. The General Assembly was in session. He was received with courtesy, but coldness. room, and publicly demanded the charter. and the session was protracted till evening. sociates appeared to yield. The charter was the table. Sir Edmund thought that the last come, when suddenly the lights were all put followed. There was no noise, no resistance, but all was quiet. The candles were again lighted, but the charter was gone! Sir Edmund Andross was disconcerted. He declared the government of Connecticut to be in his own hands, and that the colony was annexed to Massachusetts and other New England colonies, and proceeded to appoint officers. Whilst he was doing this, Capt. Jeremiah Wadsworth, a patriot of those

times, was concealing the charter in the hollow of Wylly's Oak, now known as the Charter Oak.

In 1689, King James abdicated, and on the 9th of May of that year Gov. Treat and his associate officers resumed the government of Connecticut, under the charter which had been preserved in the old Hollow Oak.

Mr. Stuart had Colt's armory band come up this noon and play solemn dirges for two hours over the trunk of the fallen monarch of the forest. He is a genial-hearted man-a worthy proprietor of the lovely hill side that nurtured for centuries such a noble tree.

A daguerreotype likeness of the fallen tree was taken to-day.

The city bells are to be tolled at sun-down, as a mark of respect entertained by our citizens for the fallen "monarch.”

CHEERING WORDS.

Hear what a friend says. It is strange how such words cheer the heart of an Editor. Many, many similar cheering words have we nicely filed in our bundles of letters-keeping them for the light and love they bring. We give this one as a specimen-for to print them all would fill a number of The Guardian, and some green-eyed persons might suppose that our pet loved to praise itself:

"By the way, I would remark that The Guardian is always welcome when it comes. Its periodical visits are looked forward to as the visits of a dearly beloved friend-to which fact my diary bears testimony. I find the following notice of it in my diary: August 8.-This evening my dear friend The Guardian came to see me in my new home. Welcome to my humble, my quiet sanctum, dear friend. I love to commune with thee at the twilight hour, for thou hast always something good to tell.' I state this merely to show that The Guardian is very acceptable to me. It cannot fail to do much good among the young."

HOME.

I never left the place that knew me,
And may never know me more,
When the chords of fondness drew me,
And have gladdened me of yore,
But my secret soul has smarted
With a feeling full of gloom,
For the days that are departed
And the place I call'd my home.

I am not of those who wander
Unaffectioned here and there,
But my heart must still be fonder
Of my sites of joy or care;
And I point sad memory's finger
(Though my faithless foot may roam)
Where I've most been made to linger

In the place I call'd my Home.

THE GUARDIAN:

A Magazine Devoted to the Interests of Young Men and Ladies.

VOL. VII.

NOVEMBER, 1856.

No. 11.

THE GREAT AUTUMN.

BY THE EDITOR.

"For the fashions of this world passeth away."

It is said that actors upon the stage frequently become so interested in the play, that they imagine it to be real. It is the same also with the spectators; they are drawn along by one scene after the other, until forgetting themselves, they fancy what they behold to be real events. Their hearts are interested, their affections are moved, until the whole sham seems to them an earnest reality.

This is a picture of the world, and of human life, as it lives and moves upon its bosom. Men act earnestly-toil busily-run hastily to and fro become interested and absorbed in the business cares and pursuits of this world, until at length they fancy it to be a soul-satisfying and an ever-abiding reality.

The same illusive feeling gradually creeps into the hearts even of such as would be mere spectators of the worldliness around them. They gaze upon the play of worldly life, until it seems to them a reality. What seems at first only shadow, soon takes the form of substance. They fall in with the general pursuit; and become as earnest as life itself in the chase of vanities. "Surely every man walketh in a vain show: Surely they are disquieted in vain: he heapeth up riches, and knoweth not who shall gather them." Ps. 39, 6.

The things which now surround and engage us are not real-they are not what they seem to be-they are not abiding; nor are they satisfactory while they do last. The things which are seen are all temporal. "All flesh is grass, and all the glory of man is as the flower of grass. In the expressive language of Paul: "The fashion of this world passeth away."

We cannot well have too profound a sense of the vain and vanishing character of all earthly things. It often becomes at least the occasion of that "godly sorrow" which worketh repentance unto life. Though it cannot of itself change the heart and the life, it often does turn the heart to the true and abiding source of help and hope. We are by nature prone to the undue love of life, and of this present world; and we need,

therefore, the constant admonitions of wisdom, reminding us that "the fashion of this world passeth away," and exhorting us not to "lay up for ourselves treasures in heaven."

The holy scriptures abound in passages which are designed to impress us with a just sense of the transient, changing and passing character of all earthly things-passages admonishing us to cease fixing our hopes and our hearts upon them, and pointing us to that sure inheritance in the kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, which abides when earth, and men, and change shall have passed away.

How little, however, are the teachings of God's word on this subject heard and heeded! They are read, the Book is closed-and the heart is full of the world again.

Hence God directs our attention to a picture of this solemn truth, pencilled upon the world around us. The whole world is a commentary on varity. It is written upon every falling leaf-upon every fading flower-the face of the landscape pictures it-the moaning of the autumnal forest preaches it-it is reflected from the human countenance -it utters its voice from grave-yards-it is spoken in mournful words, from desolate shores, from ruined cities, and from the moldering heaps of departed greatness and glory. In short, when history gathers up its mighty burden into one sad and gloomy sentence, it is this: "The fashion of this world passeth away."

Let us take the word "FASHION" in its literal sense-in its common acceptation, as indicating the outward decorations of dress, of furniture and equipage.

Take it in this sense, and what is more true, than that "the fashion of this world passeth away." What is more changeable than fashionsoutward decorations ?

Behold the votaries of pride and vanity! Scarcely has some new decoration been introduced in one circle of fashion, when the whole surface of society moves in the same direction; and all join, with quick earnest. ness, to bear their part in the mimic show. Scarcely has the last one, with uniform, matched like the rest, stood in the row, before a new movement commences-1 -then begins a new unclothing and a new being clothed upon, and the same mimic scene is acted again throughout all the circles of fashionable life. It is safe to say, that one-fourth of the human race employ one-fourth of their time in preparing for and in carrying out these changes of fashion.

How trifling, how vain, how evanescent is all this restlessness of human vanity. It has nothing solid-nothing abiding. These outward decorations--what do they cover? A poor, perishing body-an empty head -a sinful heart-a soul in which slumber the fires of hell. Whited sepulchres!

But a little while, and the painted cheek is pale in death! The rich rustling robes of fashion are exchanged for the plain winding sheet-and the limbs that moved in stately pride in the halls of fashion, are composed in the narrow house where there is none to admire, none to praise, and none to envy!

Changes of raiment cannot ease the pains of the bed of sickness-cannot drive away the earnest horrors of a dying hour-cannot cover peacefully in the swellings of Jordan-cannot light up joy amid the gloom of

the grave and cannot take the place of the white robes which the sainted wear in the kingdom of the pure! All the fashion of this world must pass away!

Behold the Dives of fashion! He is clothed in purple and fine linen, and he fares sumptuously every day! His robes rustle, and the colors of his rich garments change with the light as he sits in state. Hundreds gaze, admire, and fall in servile dependance at his feet. See again! His gay attire lies composed in its place and he lies in the hands of the king of terrors. His limbs quiver-his pulse grows faint and slow-he gasps -he dies! "and in hell he lifts up his eyes, being in torment." There lieth, moreover, a moral lesson in these changes of fashion. Are they not an evidence of the restlessness of the human heart? Does not this never-ceasing desire after change, proclaim the great truth, that nothing earthly can long satisfy the human heart? It is ever eager to exchange one bubble of vanity for another-hoping still, and hoping ever, to find solid satisfaction in the fashion of this world which passeth away. How can the beauty of the feathers satisfy the hunger of the bird? How can the decorations of the body fill the spirit with that which it needs forever.

We have also a commentary on the passages quoted in the shiftings and changes of the physical world.

In whatever direction we turn our eyes, we see the prophecy of that awfully solemn fulfilment proclaimed in the scripture. Things visible shall perish. "They all shall wax old as doth a garment; and as a vesture shalt thou fold them up, and they shall be changed." The grandest organizations of the physical universe, shall tumble together into their original elements, "even as a fig-tree casteth her untimely figs, when she is shaken of a mighty wind."

The physical universe is fallen with man. It is, with him, doomed to a dissolution. We need but look at the phenomena around us, and we shall discover disturbing and dissolving forces at work, under the power of which the fashion of the physical world is constantly passing away.

These destructive forces are very comprehensively designated by our Saviour, under the names of moth and rust, and thieves. Moth, designates all those living animals and insects, which prey upon existing organizations, and gradually, silently, but certainly cause them to pass away, while they themselves pass away with them.

How extensively are these living agents of destruction at work over the face of the physical world! How vastly do they change the fashion of the face of the earth! Who can number them? They eat the springing germ-they gnaw the flourishing gourd, and it withers over our head at noon-day-they sting the leaf, and it grows pale and diesthey work themselves into the heart of the apple and the nut, and make them useless to man-they bore the giant oak, and work disease into its very vitals, so that though it has braved the storms of a thousand years, they make it a heap of ruins! In short, every living organization which beautifies the face of the earth, is but food for insects and worms. They seem to rush upon all living forms as the commissioned of Heaven, crying "Dust thou art, and unto dust thou shalt return!"

Rust, designates all these chemical forces and agents, by which the face of the physical world are constantly made to change and pass away.