fisheries, which were worth as much to him as his farm. But he was a careful and successful farmer, living comfortably, having the means of educating his children and of being public-spirited and benevolent, making his house the home of hospitality, and leaving behind him for those days a snug little property. He was fond of the cultivation of fruit, and before nurseries and grafted trees were common, raised fruit in abundance and of the choicest varieties. His buildings were always kept in good repair and painted as white as fresh paint could make them, so that his wellshaded and pleasant residence became a striking feature in the landscape, and gave a good idea of what the best New England homes were.

He was active and liberal in maintaining good schools. After" Master Tisdale " died, and his school was given up, a select school was maintained under some college graduate for both sexes, but sometimes it became a school for young ladies under superior instruction. Here his own children were educated until they needed better advantages, when they were all sent away to enjoy them. The church also, in which he was for many years a deacon, and of which he was such a revered and beloved member, found in him one of its best friends. To secure a good minister when he was needed; to provide well for his support; to build a parsonage, and then make his pastor's residence in it as comfortable as possible; in everything of this kind he naturally took a leading part, while his life exemplified the Gospel, and gave new force to preaching. He had a peculiar regard for ministers, prized their society, and loved to entertain them; so that his house was familiarly called "The Ministers' Tavern." He loved good people and good things, and any good cause was likely to find in him a firm supporter and true friend. When the temperance reform commenced, he was the first to adopt its principles and carry them out in the management of his farm. Though told that he never

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could hire men to work for him, without furnishing them with ardent spirits in haying time at least, his reply was: "I think I can by giving them more wages." And he not only succeeded in banishing New England rum from the farm, but New England cider also, when every comfortable farmer was expected to put into his cellar from ten to thirty barrels of it, to be drank up in the course of the year. He was too conscientious and benevolent to maintain a custom so dangerous to individuals, and so injurious to the community, when such easy protection could be furnished against its dangers. Thus his son was taught those strict temperance principles to which he scrupulously adhered all his life.

In any delineation of the father's character, prominence should be given to his rare good judgment. He would not pretend to judge of subjects of which he had little or no knowledge, but upon matters with which he was acquainted, his opinions were definite and eminently wise. His habits of business were careful and exact, while his industry and thoroughness, combined with his good judgment, were quite sure to render his business plans successful. He was liberal toward public improvements, religious institutions, Christian missions and the poor about him, regarding himself in all such matters as the steward of the Lord, who would be found faithful to his trust. In his own family he was full of tenderness and affection, while his ideas of duty and propriety were distinct and carefully insisted upon, nothing rude or unkind even in speech being permitted there, any more than what was vulgar and wicked anywhere. The Governor might have been called "Bill" by his companions on the playground, but never in his father's house. He was himself a gentleman not only in speech and manners, but in his sentiments, and the courtesy and sincerity with which he entertained his guests were quite remarkable. He admired public men of ability and integ

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rity-had great respect for honest folk, however humble they might be he loved all Christian people wherever he found them, and character always weighed more with him than wealth or rank or talent. He profoundly revered his Maker and had supreme faith in Jesus Christ his son, and like his Puritan ancestry, tried to "serve his generation according to the will of God, and having done so fell on sleep, and was laid unto his fathers'," at the ripe old age of eighty, leaving to his family their best inheritance in the principles he taught them, the example he set them, and the name he honored.

His wife was Joanna Matson of Lyme, Ct., whose brothers were prominent men in the town, one of them a venerable deacon in the Old Church there, while her sister was the mother of the late Chief Justice Waite of Connecticut, and grandmother of Chief Justice Waite of the United States Supreme Court While the Governor resembled his father most in personal appearance, and possessed his father's rare business qualities, he inherited his mother's temperament, her alertness of mind, her capacity for intense and unwearied activity, as well as her affectionate nature, tender sympathies and free-handed benevolence. She was a person of unaffected modesty, and all womanly delicacy, yet with great executive ability and such good judgment that her husband always consulted her in business matters, and said after her death that he never succeeded well in any enterprise of which she did not fully approve. She was resolute of purpose, quick to provide for an emergency, and with fortitude equal to any crisis. Her brothers, who were fond of horses, used to say: "Annie can ride any horse that we can ride." And in those times when so much of traveling was done on horseback, this was not a mere accomplishment for a lady, but a necessary part of her education, so that every well-conditioned bride received, on her marriage, as she did, her own riding horse, and side

saddle and pillion, as much as her bridal dress, and family linen. As showing her courage and prompt energy, when the Governor was a child, slie once missed him, and flying to the well, thought the bright spot reflected from the sides, was the head of her child upon the surface of the water. Without a moment's hesitation, she climbed down the wet and slippery sides of that well, thirty feet deep, till she could see to the bottom, and relieve her anxieties. In the springtime, when the farm required the most attention, and her husband was obliged to spend six weeks at Saybrook, looking after his fisheries, she managed the farm. With all that was delicate and womanly, she possessed this capacity for anything that needed to be done, and when it was done, it was with the propriety and grace with which only a woman can do every thing. But this was not her best sphere. In her family, with her husband and children, among her neighbors, with her guests, in the chamber of sickness, at the bedside of the suffering, there she was most at home and best beloved. Nothing could exceed the depth and tenderness of her domestic love, or the anxiety she felt about the habits, principles and religious character of her family. She used to plan wisely and comprehensively for her children, and was exceedingly desirous that they should be something and do something in the world, but her ambition was held in subordination to her piety, and she would always add to her encouragement and hopes: "Well, whatever else you are, I want you to be Christians." With such a character, and such an influence, is it any wonder that she has left behind her a memory enshrined in the hearts of her children, somewhat like The Madonna's among good Roman Cathclics?

Perhaps no better idea of her character, or fitter tribute to her memory, can be given than was heard from her pastor years after her death, when he had removed to another town, where in age and infirmity he occasionally

occupied the pulpit. A friend of the family happening to pass a Sabbath there, was gratified to hear this reference to her as an illustration of the minister's subject: "When I became pastor of the church, to which for many years I ministered, I was struck wherever I went with the love and gratitude which all found out at the mention of one individual-That individual was the mother of our present good Governor-a noble son of a noble mother. Beneath every roof her name was most affectionately mentioned, as her memory now is sacredly cherished. I wondered how she had thus endeared herself to the hearts of that people. But when I saw her at the bedside of the sick and dying, ministering like an angel from above to their relief—when I saw her gifts scattered wherever they were needed when I saw how little she spent upon herself and how cheerfully she gave to others; I understood the secret. Others beside our Maker love such a spirit, and weep when it is withdrawn from the scenes of earth."

Into such a home this child was born; and there never was a warmer or safer nest, where with four other children-two sisters, and two brothers-he was trained for his life work.

As a boy the Governor had as much mischief, daring, recklessness, as most boys, and rather more. "There," said an old man who had been one of the companions of his boyhood, pointing to the roof of a neighboring house which hung high above a lower roof, and both too high to fall from without risking life, "William was once up there, and I was below, and I heard him cry: Catch me! catch me! I'm falling!'-when down he came on that lower roof, and I caught him before he fell any further. And if I had not," he added, "I don't see how Connecticut could ever have had him for Governor."

Connecticut's future "War Governor" was no doubt being raised up, and his very nerve, and courage, and dar