USA > New York > Suffolk County > Southold > Griffin's journal : first settlers of Southold, the names of the heads of those families, being only thirteen at the time of their landing; first proprietors of Orient, biographical sketches > Part 17
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Why may not the meaning of this hieroglyphical representation be this, viz. : His youth might show that true friendship was ever in its bloom and vigor; his bare head, a readiness to serve ; his plain dress, his sin- cerity ; the inscription on the edge of his garment, "life and death," his constancy ; the " winter and summer" on his forehead might mean all seasons, whether pros- perous or adverse ; the openness of his breast, to show his cordial frankness, and the words above his heart, " far and near," might signify his faithful perseverence in all places. Whether this is a true meaning or ex- planation of the Egyptian representation, I know not. At any rate, it must be admitted that friendship is a virtue which the selfish heart can never appreciate. It is a jewel of inestimable value. Esto perpetua.
Marcus Tullius Cicero, the Roman orator, was born in the one hundred and third year before the Christian Era, and was put to death in the sixty-fifth year of his age.
Memory ! mysterious memory ! What a mirror ! Thou showest me, in brilliant colors, every interesting scene of past comforts-joys, sorrows, associations, and interviews-the dim, sepulchral images of dear departed friends, and invaluable connections.
O, memory ! Thou openest afresh the fountains of early passions, the thrilling aspirations of after years.
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The present now is felt darkness. Yes, unspeakable mental anguish.
I look forward, but no sunbeam of cheering light meets my anxious gaze. Deep in the vale of life, the friends of my youth are all gone !
Three daughters, with three grand-daughters and two .grandsons-the most dutiful, interesting, and lovely- all departed, and with them their mothers and grand- mother, whose virtues in the several relations of life were never exceeded.
Alas ! this last stroke severed the chain that bound me to earth. The few remaining days of my sojourn will and must be intermixed with darkness, tears, and sensations of loneliness inexpressible ..
AFFECTION.
The tears of filial sorrow give the brightest lustre, and the most noble specimen of true affection of any that are shed by frail humanity.
KINDNESS.
Deal gently with those who go astray; draw them back by love and persuasion. A kiss in friendship is worth a thousand kicks. A kind, complacent word is more valuable to the lost, the bereaved, the lonely, the aged sojourner, than gold.
There is a transient delight even in the parting agony of two lovers, worth a thousand tame pleasures of the world-sweetened by that brilliant daughter of the skies, Hope, delicious hope, to meet again.
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Sweet Home! What a delightful word ! There is no word that I know of conjures up such feelings as that impressing word. Who can speak it without emotions from the heart ? It, in glowing colors and affecting re- collections, reminds us of a mother's unchanging love, and a father's care ; our companions and juvenile friend- ships ; our first recollections, and love for those we hold dear. A mother's love-the strongest on this side of Heaven.
What a dream ! A transient dream of unalloyed de- light has passed over my soul.
I had a paradise allotted me for a season, in which I shared the love and society of a woman, whose virtues and loveliness was as near perfection as humanity could produce or arrive at.
Why, O, why is this budding season of life, of joy and surpassing tenderness, so transient? Why is this rosy cloud, that shed so lately such a halo over my sensitive, anxious heart, so soon shrouded in seeming impenetrable darkness ?
The road of selfishness is too crooked for love ; too rugged for honesty ; too dark for conscience.
The greatest pleasure of life is love.
The greatest treasure is contentment.
The greatest possession is health.
The greatest ease is sleep.
And the best medicine a true friend.
After I had been married thirty years, my dear wife,
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in one of her letters to me when absent, wrote thus :- "You know the world has no charms when you are un- happy ; if you are comfortable, I cannot but be so."
Gold is an idol worshiped in all climates, without a temple ; and by all classes, without a hypocrite.
A man-a young man, if you please-who allows himself to use one profane or vulgar word, has not only shown a foul spot on his mind, but by the utter- ance of that word, he extends that spot, and inflames it, till, by indulgence, it will soon pollute and ruin the whole man.
Patience and resignation are sure to meet a rich reward.
Kindnesses-how soon they are forgot by those on whom they are bestowed. Ingratitude blots out what ought to be, with ecstacy, remembered. Vices are remembered with cherished contumely and hate.
O, the soft commerce ; O, the tender tie That's rent assunder, when such are call'd to die : So much endeared by every filial move, That grace adorns her as a child of love. When such a jewel from our earth is riven, It puts a blank on all things this side Heaven.
AND SHE WEPT.
Tears are sometimes a relief, and sometimes a bur- den. They are assuredly a relief to a woman, because her sympathy approves them ; they burden a man, be- cause his pride rebukes them. A woman weeps be
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cause she feels ; a man because he can't feel. A wo- man's tears affect a man ; but a man's tears disaffect a woman. A woman weeps for others-a man for him- self. A woman's tears are common property-a man's are his own. A woman believes them a profitable in- vestment-a man considers them a useless expenditure. A woman's tears are easy and natural-a man's are forced and awkward. Woman's are the warm streams of the summer cloud-man's the cold droppings of the icicle.
A PICTURE.
A drunkard is the annoyance of modesty ; the trou- ble of civility ; the spoil of wealth, and the distraction of reason. He is the brewer's customer; the tavern and ale-houses' benefactor; the beggar's companion ; the constable's trouble ; his wife's woe; his children's sorrow ; his own shame. In fine, he is a tub of filth and swill, and a monster in the shape of man.
A VIRTUOUS WOMAN.
He who has not experienced the friendship of a wo- man, whose virtue is unstained, knows not half the charms or unsullied delights of friendship. Woman possesses the art of adorning and beautifying the scenes of life by unalterable sweetness of temper, constant care, and unwearied attentions. Such last best gift of Heaven, is man's consoling companion in prosperity, and assuredly so in the trying hours of adversity. She is, at all times, in all circumstances, in all situations- in sickness, sorrow, and destitution-an unshaken, im-
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movable, uncontaminated, sentimental friend-an angel of mercy.
Amidst the bustle, cares, anxieties, and commotions incident to the man of business, he is wise who, thus immersed in the complicated scenes of life, looks for- ward and prepares himself for the time when care and trial shall throw their deepening shadows over the laughing face ; when sorrow shall come; when summer friends shall fall off like leaves in autumn, before the rough blast of winter and misfortune overtake. Ah! how swift the moment approaches when the daughter of hope, and the pride of her parents, will seek to find repose upon, perhaps, a faithless breast, no longer warm with life and love.
A father may be kind, affectionate, and considerate ; many are such ; yet how many are there whose affec- tions form but a small part of their existence!
O, the depth and strength of a mother's love! It reaches high as Heaven, deep as the foundations of earth, and is strong and lasting as the pillars of eter- nity. It will follow its object-its child, its husband, its son-over hill and seas.
SOLITUDE.
Solitude, in many situations and certain circumstances of life, is certainly necessary to work a good effect in giv- ing us a view of the world, and the most important sub- jects connected with its productions.
To the wise, truly good, and sadly bereaved, it would
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not be readily exchanged for the comfortless, heartless intercourse of a busy, bustling, selfish, cold, unthinking world.
We know man is naturally a sociable being, born for society ; yet but few would wish to become Robinson Crusoe, in seclusion from the world ; although, like him, all would wish to be sole governor of their own domain.
One of the grand secrets of life is to learn to accom- modate ourselves to circumstances, and the situation Providence has seen fit to place us in. Bless God that it is as well with us as it is. For wise and eternal pur- poses, our lot is cast as it is. The journey, whether over a rugged or smooth way, will soon be over. If prosperous at its end, God will have all the glory. Amen !
There is nothing safer than honesty ; nothing sweeter than charity ; nothing warmer than love; nothing purer than virtue; and nothing more steadfast than faith. These, united in one mind, form the purest, the sweetest, the richest, the brightest, the holiest, and most permanent happiness.
How painful, how poignant the remorse in reflecting on having even given a pang to the warm heart of the dearest of friends who now lie cold in death! The ad- der's poisonous sting, and the viper's fatal bite, are not more pungent or more wretched. Remorse awakes the nerve where agonies are born.
The first dramatic entertainment ever given in New
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York city took place on the 17th September, 1753. Alas ! where now are the gay actors ? yes, and the pleased and brilliant audience, and the sparkling and fascinating belles? Ah! where? "Dust to dust, the mourner cries."
Whatever be the motives for insults, it is always best to overlook them; for folly scarcely can deserve re- sentment, and malice is punished by neglect. Yet the celebrated Junius says injuries may be atoned for and forgiven, but insults never. May not some insults amount to no higher ill-usage than severe injuries ? If so, forgive them.
True loveliness and beauty in a young lady is not to be found in tinsel ornaments of the body, but in the re- flection of the rectitude and serenity of a well-spent life, that soars above the transient vanities of this world.
REFLECTING ON MY BEREAVEMENTS-1849.
She was my guardian angel on earth, and will, I trust, continue one in Heaven.
The ways of God are dark and intricate, but they are doubtless just.
Promises made in time of affliction, require a better memory than people generally possess.
It is useless for me to attempt to seek for quiet or comfort in the solemn haunts of nature, since my loved one is no longer here to fill and sanctify my mourning soul.
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There are assuredly more cloudy days in a year than fair ones ; so it is in our brief years of life. No matter if cares and toils do meet us at almost every step ; let us seek a cheerful acquiescence to the methods of a wise and just Providence. Be just ; be cheerful. Compo- sure and resignation betoken a heart in the right place.
As Col. Aaron Burr was leaving the boat, when ar- rested on a supposed expedition detrimental to his coun- try, after an eloquent address to the young men in his suit, he observed with emphasis, "Heu quantum est in rebus, in ane."
Died, at East Marion, Southold, on Sunday morning, the 21st ult., James Griffin, aged eighty-seven years.
The deceased was born, bred, and passed his long life in this, his native town. For many years he was a teacher in our common schools ; and numerous are those now living, mothers and fathers, that will bear grateful witness to the excellent precepts and examples by him inculcated and imparted to their youthful minds.
Perhaps there never was a man more respected and esteemed by all who knew him. It were not saying too much, we believe, to declare he had no enemy. His every act was as if the Omnipotent Eye was directly upon him.
Unobtrusive, yet ever self-possessed and dignified in his manners-intelligent, benevolent, and charitable- he lived to witness the reward of his goodness. Pos- sessed of a spirit worthy of the best Roman, he repined at no adverse fortune, and could say and feel, in the hour of his greatest Providential affliction, "Thou doest all things well !"
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Few indeed are the parents that have been called to bear up beneath the weight of mental anguish that has fallen to his lot. Seven sons blessed his marriage bed, and all arrived at that period in life when it is becom- ing to share in its active pursuits. The early care and solicitude of a true mother and father were fully devel- oped. The children had become men, and by their con- duct, doing honor to themselves, their family, and their community. A fairer prospect of earthly usefulness and happiness is rarely presented. Home was the seat of contentment and peace ; health, virtue, industry, and ability were all there; a willing hand and heart too. Nor was the thought awakened that a change, an awful change, was imminent.
It was in this full, bright day of human prosperity, when himself and aged partner were reasonably happy in the possession of such an offspring, when no admoni- tory voice had whispered preparation, and when no summer cloud had yet, even for a moment, obscured the clear sunlight of their enjoyment, that the bereave- ment came, and not then to the eye but to the ear; thus adding all the horrors of the creations of the imagi- nation to the dreadful reality. Four of these sons, in vigorous manhood, in one instant were whelmed be- neath the Atlantic's waves-no companion left to bear the last farewell, or recount the terrible tragedy.
We remember well the sadness and woe that de- picted the countenances of this entire community when the sad news arrived. Not only the immediate rela- tions of the deceased, but a wide spread circle of friends and acquaintances participated in the gloom. And well too do we remember the greatness of mind and pious
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resignation manifested by this father when informed of his great bereavement. He was standing by his front picket fence, as a neighbor came up, and, as tenderly as possible, broke to him the sad intelligence. No mur- mur, or sigh, or groan, or tear followed. His noble spirit bowed in submission, but the humanity was weak. In his bosom there was "a grief which passeth show." He leaned on the railing, and it was immediately dis- covered that he was insensible.
A few years since the excellent partner of his youth, full of years and goodness, was also called to leave him, and again he bowed with Christian grace to the blow.
The curtain of mortality has now dropt forever on the earthly scene of this aged pilgrim and sojourner. In spirit he has gone to join the happy spirits of faith- fully mourned sons and wife, and sainted mother and father.
How fitful the decease of such a man with the close of the dying year ! The natural harvest has been abun- dant, and is secured. Nature, as if to repose, has laid off her beautiful verdure of comely and rich colors, and wound herself for a season in a robe of white, and ap- parent death; but the work of life has been done, and well done. His harvest, fully ripe, has been gathered, and without loss. That which was mortal has been wrapt in the cold habiliments of the grave, and the im- mortal, unincumbered with earth, has passed, replumed, in perennial youth, and remains forever "fast by the throne of God." G.
Decemcer, 1851.
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Died, on Thursday, Sept. 29th, 1852, at the residence of his brother, Dr. John Augustus Preston,* in Hart- land, James Hervey Preston, aged twenty-two years. He was the affectionate and justly beloved son of the late James H. and Deziah Preston, of Orient.
His path through his brief mortal sojourn was that of rectitude, and Christianity the basis of his faith and hope.
Died, in Williamsburgh, October 5th, 1852, Harriet McNeil, daughter of James McNeil, formerly of Orient, aged eighteen years. .
" Sweet Harmonist ! and beautiful as sweet !
And young as beautiful ! and virtuous as young ! And these were all thy own."
Contemplation of distress softens the mind of man, and helps to make the heart better. It extinguishes the seeds of envy and ill will toward his brother man. The envious heart is too black and wretched for human language to paint.
When these eyes shall cease to weep, and have sunk to their dreamless rest, earth will still be as fair, and the silver moon will ride on as triumphantly. "All, all on earth is shadow !"
Is this true-there is no good man's heart but has a little of the woman's in it ?
Suspicion is not less an enemy to virtue than it is to * Dr. John Augustus Preston died April 19, 1853.
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happiness. He that is already corrupt is certainly natu- rally suspicious ; and he that is suspicious will quickly be corrupt.
The road of life, although chequered with many rough places, has some pleasant amusements ; but, after all, we are anxious for rest.
On visiting the old school-house, after an absence from it of more than fifty years :
Long years have passed since here I took my stand
As village teacher. This is the house-the land- The same old place ! Here pretty girls and boys Were taught the way that leads to solid joys : An interesting group-all full of glee -- Some in their Abs ; some in their A B C- A lovely brood ! Their lively aims and ends Appeared united all to be my friends. Their mothers, fathers, guardians, all were kind ; A better district seldom can we find. Here lived a score of aunts, full of good will, And gave herb teas whenever I was ill ; A cold, a cough, the least complaint or muss,
They'd haste to soak my feet, careful to nurse. The honors which to woman Ledyard gave, Show them to be " the bravest of the brave"- Kindness, with sympathy, their every move, Show them the subjects of maternal love. Young, and a stranger to them, I had come-
They all exclaimed, " Young friend, make this thy home !" Now, what a change ! That generation's gone ! One solitary remnant, only one,* She lives, a relic of the days of yore ;
Eventful is her life of eighty years and more ;
Good health she yet enjoys, as ever kind
* Widow Ruth Coleman, in her ninetieth year. 24
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A mother still, with all a mother's mind- Just as I found her when I took my board With the dear man, her noble, generous lord ;* The best of husbands, at all times or place, Surely an honor to our motley race ; Accommodating, social, pleasant, free, Kind to the poor, fatherless, and me !
That lively, interesting set-my scholars then- Have been old women ; and some, too, old men. They all have passed away-forever gone, To join those millions in the worlds unknown ; She who remains, with scrutinizing view, Exclaims, with wonder, " Master, is this you, Who, with a whip not used, a good ferule, Full sixty years ago taught me at school ? My age, dear sir, at that time was but ten : I'm eighty now ! what must your age be, then ?"
Alas ! this scene is interspers'd with gloom --- Methinks I tread the suburbs of the tomb ; Dark, drear reflections do my breast inspire, To see at once so many friends expire !
Out of this district, about three miles, not four, Two dame widows,t of ninety years or more ! Their minds yet bright-lovers of Gospel truth- From early life associates of aunt Ruth ; These three descended from John Tuthill, who Came to Southold two hundred years ago. Well, these good women's ages now, you see, If added, make two hundred, seventy ! Now, if divided right, we find it then Will give each lady's age full nine times ten ! Their world has gone ; mine, too, is passing soon ! Mates of my youth, and social friends, ah, gone ! O, what a dream is life! What is its show ? What is it now ? what eighty years ago ?
* The late Abner Coleman -- a man that was a man.
+ Dorothy Watkins and her sister, Anna Steward ; the first ninety three years, the second ninety-one. Mrs. Watkins died in 1851 ; Mrs. Steward in 1853 ; Mrs. Ruth Coleman in 1853, aged ninety years.
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Time, time has swept those objects dear away, And the old school-house shows a fast decay- Wrapt deep in pensive gloom, with sadness turn, And leave entire a district in its urn.
How baseless are earth's goods ! Her brightest gleams Are staffs of reed-are visionary dreams ! Content and rest, they just before us lie- We grasp to seize them, and the phantoms fly. Man's brightest days are full of anxious fears, And every joy has its attendant tears : Oh, let us then those virtues well secure, Which seal our passport to a world that's pure !
In the cemetery at Orient, which is on the south side of the main road, a few rods east of the Congregational Church, stand two handsome marble stones, on one of which is inscribed the following :
Beneath is reposited the Body of JAMES H. PRESTON, who departed this life on Friday, the 12th day of April, 1833, Aged 33 years.
" In the character of the deceased were united many of those excellent and amiable qualities which render man not only a means of happiness, but a blessing to his fellows. Truly benevolent, without ostentation ; honest, without pretension ; efficient and worthy, without ambition ; a Christian, without hypocrisy ; a dutiful son, kind brother, prudent father, and a most tender husband ; sensible that it is but a poor evidence of re- membrance, and that within her heart there exists, to his memory, a monument perennial as eternity, a bereaved and sorrow-stricken consort, a partner of early youth, has caused this memorial to be raised to his honor, with the hope that, when viewed by her orphan children, it will instruct them of the virtues of an invaluable father, and often remind them to emulate his beautiful example."
Inscription on the grave-stone which marks the place
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where rest the mortal remains of Mrs. Deziah G. Pres- ton, wife of the former :
The Grave of the mortal remains of our Mother, Deziah G. Preston, who died January 20th, 1839, Æ 41 years.
Although at this place, by reason of the imperfect condition of our natural affection, we let fall the unavailing tear, and mourn the departure of our dear and beloved friend ; yet we can say, as said the angels at the sepulchre of our Lord, " She is not here, but has risen !" And that even now the pure intelligences of Heaven welcome her as a new and kindred inhabitant, and rejoice that another happy spirit has arrived to participate in their bliss-
" How solid all where change shall be no more."
Died, at Newburgh, N. Y., on the 24th September, 1854, my youngest brother, Samuel Caddle Griffin, in the sixty-seventh year of his age. He was a native of Rocky Point, (now East Marion,) near Greenport. He was a teacher for many years in Annapolis, Md., from whence he removed to Orange county, in this State, where he ended his useful life. It is difficult for lan- guage of eulogy to do justice to the character of a man whose life presents no prominent features of observa- tion, who pursues the even tenor of his way in a voca- tion so humble as that of the school teacher. He may possess a thousand virtues ; but, like the gems of the ocean, their rays are hidden from view, or like the flowers of the wilderness, they are doomed to bloom in solitude. But to the small circle of his friends, Mr. Griffin presented a character which they will cherish in their memories, and imprint in their hearts with the liveliest emotions of affection and gratitude. He was
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mild in his disposition, patient in his business, learned and intelligent ; punctilious in his dress, genteel in his appearance, polite in his manners; he was a philan- thropist and a Christian; he was virtuous and pious, and had a firm hope of a blessed immortality beyond the grave ; he was amiable, and an honest man, always true to conviction, and firm in the expression of his opinions ; a great lover of freedom, and devoted to the progress of amelioration and happiness of his race. He was a most agreeable companion in the social and do- mestic circle; and the writer of this article, who had long intimately known him, deeply sympathizes with his friends and relatives in his loss.
Died, on the 11th June, 1842, Mrs. Experience Coch- rane, in the seventy-seventh year of her age. She was the daughter of the late Major Nathaniel King, who died in this village in 1822, in the ninety-second year of his age, before noticed. In the year 1786, this ex- cellent woman was married to John Cochrane, of Say- brook, Conn. The ceremony of uniting this couple was performed by the Rev. Zachariah Green. This gentle- man is now residing at Hempstead, Queens county, aged ninety-seven years, and is more fully noticed on another page of this journal. At the time of this wed- ding, Mr. Green was in his twenty-seventh year. Mrs. Cochrane leaves three children-two daughters, Expe- rience and Sally, and one son, William.
The following obituary notice of the death of my 24*
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dear daughter, Harriet L., was published shortly after her decease :
Died, at Southold, on the morning of the 14th Oct., 1842, Mrs. Harriet Lucretia Wells, wife of Captain Abner Wells.
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