the martyrs who have consecrated themselves, by a noble death, to the right. And yet, each sacrifice has imparted new strength to the good cause. Othello and Desdemona are martyrs to virtue and the right. Vice, in triumph, has been defeated; and virtue, in apparent defeat, is triumphant. J. P. B... About New Haven Climate. "COLLEGE subjects are played out." This remark was made in my hearing, a few days since, by a friend, while speaking of subjects of articles for the Lit. There may be something of truth in the remark, for we all know that the changes have been rung on "electioneering," "societies," "boating," "biennials," and the like, until scarcely any department of student effort and activity is left unexplored. All matters of dispute in regard to them have been decided satisfactorily, so that there need be no longer any room for doubt. But yet, local topics are always interesting to us, though often treated of. We like to compare the opinions of our fellow-travelers, concerning the beauties of the scenery, the length of the journey, and the trials and dangers that beset us all alike on our course. It is natural that it should be so. When we take our seats at the social board, our enjoyment of the viands is not at all diminished, by the consideration that millions throughout the world are, at the very moment, partaking of the same. So in College, we can read, think, converse, and write on subjects of individual interest to each one of us, with an enthusiasm in no way weakened by the fact, that thousands of ambitious youth like ourselves, have been and still are engaged on the same questions, each one with his own thoughts, doubts, hopes and beliefs. Who of us has not observed, that the word “ College,” has a magic power in it?" Let but just the word come into a title of the Lit. article, or occur at random among the pages, and we are unconsciously led to examine a little further, at least to see what the author has to say, and how he says it. And why should it not be so? We can always talk best, think best, and write best, on subjects with which we are most familiar. Why, then, discourse in a pseudo-metaphysical style, of "civilization," "progress," and "literature," when our ideas are, at best, but crude and imperfectly formed upon them? Professor Stuart, of Andover, used to say, that the crying sin of America was laziness; but in College it is, I think, the rage for writing on heavy, literary, and philosophical subjects. I had thought of preparing an essay on the "Influence of Carlyle ;" in fact, I have been thinking of it for many months, but have abandoned it, simply for the reasons above mentioned. Probably very few tears will be shed, by the readers of this Magazine, on account of the decision, though, undoubtedly, Carlyle himself will be greatly disappointed. I had also jotted down a few hints and maxims on "Professional Life," which I should have published, had not the Faculty formally requested me to read it aloud before one of their number; nay, even, they threatened to deduct materially from my stand, unless I accepted the invitation. More than that, they required the first half of our class to be present, and partake of the intellectual entertainment, under a penalty of two black marks on the Monitor's book. I am, therefore, driven to select some other topic for my essay for this Number. I have selected the one at the head of this Article, because it is one with which we are all familiar; on which we are all more or less interested, every day of our lives. It will be of interest to the permanent residents of New Haven, who will be able to judge of the accuracy of the descriptions; of interest to the transient dwellers, who have just tasted the sweets of this favored clime; of interest to all meteorological Professors and men of science, for I shall aim at mathematical care and exactness; of interest to all Academy graduates and sub-Freshmen generally, who intend to honor this city with their presence, for I shall be to them a kind of John the Baptist, pro claiming the joys that are before them. The subject has one merit at least; it is perfectly original. I am positive that no one ever wrote on it before, either for this Magazine, or for the New Englander. I should never have thought of it myself, had I not once overheard sundry individuals remarking upon it in private conversation. A great many sneers will be cast on the title. It will be stigmatized as unworthy of the Lit., as inconsistent with its dignity. It will be said, that this should be a literary and not a scientific Magazine, and that no one has a right to fill these pages with a record of mathematical investigations. But these criticisms must be expected. Having, by these rambling personal remarks, laid myself open to the charge of superficiality and egotism, I now invite your attention to these carefully digested and arranged thoughts. About New Haven Climate. I shall treat of this under three heads, and, if space allows, shall close with a few moral inferences and reflections. The Divisions are as follows: I. Variety. II. Uniformity. First, I will speak of the variety observable in New Haven climate. There is little need of argument here. Now we all know that variety is just as much the spice of climate as it is of existence. It is always regarded as a great desideratum, especially for those of a weak and consumptive habit. We all know that sudden and violent changes, brilliant alternations of heat and cold, are agreeable and salutary. Nowhere in the world are weather-changes so entire, or alternations of temperature so brilliant, as under the Elm City skies. I am in the habit of keeping a daily Journal, in which I record the various phases of the weather, and I now propose to give a kind of panorama of one days experience, during last January. Let it be understood, by the way, that the instance given here, is merely a fair average, selected from scores of others, some of which would be far more striking. I give the record just it stands in the Journal. Jan. 8th 1862. Yesterday morning I rose-sun had done the same four hours previous-shone clear and brilliant-soon a lovely fog rested gracefully over the landscape-the fog quietly thickenedclouds, dark as shining coals, looked smilingly down upon us-floods of soft and warm rain-water impetuously wended their way to the ground, and congealed in glassy lakes-the cold North wind swayed Southward, and the extempore ice-ponds were unlocked-put on with joy my rubber boots, and skipped gaily along the side-walks-purchased some creepers down town, and, as the ice had formed again, found them useful in returning-soon the rain clouds careened away before the breeze, and a reserve corps of dark snow-clouds came to the rescue— the saintly snow fell lightly on the bosom of mother earth-snow changed to hail and hail to snow—they joined in loving wedlock, and came down in blissful embrace-up blew the wind, harder, harder, harder-an affectionate hurricane strode briskly across the Greenthe blinds of South College beat time to the march of the storm, and scores of divorced window-panes clattered on the pavements like the commingled music of many tamborines-the wind lulled-I went off on a sleigh-ride, with a wagon attached behind, in which we returned after the melting of the snow-cold as Greenland in the evening-went to Hamilton Park, (as the ball was not up, concluded there must be skating,)—found ten thousand people and some ice-broke in-wet my feet-did not get cold, as the temperature had become so mild— retired at bed-time, having first secured fast the doors, to prevent the entrance of Jack Frost, who, I saw, would soon knock for admittancerose this morning-fanned myself by the open windows, while the grateful trees were budding forth in thankfulness and praise. Thus stands the record. Every one will notice the peculiar attention and care paid to punctuation. It is best for all to take some pains in this respect, even with their own private compositions. The experiences of that day are not overdrawn. We have, this very Winter, enjoyed many such agreeable varieties, and, from present appearances, more yet are in store for us. What other city can present so brilliant a diary? Lovely Spring, gentle Summer, luscious Autumn, and heroic Winter-Liberia and Sahara; New England and Peru; Italy and Kamtschatka--all are epitomized in twenty-four hours! This variety is the great distinguishing feature of our weather, that gives it so great notoriety. The citizens and visitors here are proud of this, and give frequent expression to their feelings of satisfaction. I pass on to the second head-Uniformity. There is no paradox here. This climate is as uniformly various as variously uniform. During the past Winter, we have had abundant opportunity to observe this striking peculiarity. I need but allude to the month of January, when, for the space of three weeks, we were entirely free from the hated sight of that detestable luminary, the Sun. In most places, that heavenly body will persist in introducing its impudent visage, almost every day; sending its rays, uninvited, on the evil and the good, on the just and the unjust; but New Haven is, comparatively, exempt from its unwelcome visitations. Not that it does not, sometimes, shine here; for several old inhabitants state, that they remember instances when it has dodged out from behind the clouds, and sailed on in full view for two consecutive hours. But those instances are so rare, that there is very little danger of their occurring more than once, at least during a four years course. I suppose there is no doubt, according to the theories of Astronomy, that Old Sol does rise and set every day in this latitude, but still we are very little incommoded by it, for the kindly clouds of fog are generous enough to form a perpetual bulwark from its scorching beams. This uniformity is, I believe, peculiar to the Elm City and the Gulf Stream. I pass on to the third division-Periodicity. I do not certainly know that this word is to be found in the dictionary. But that is a matter of little importance—the subject is an original one, and it is perfectly legitimate to coin words in treating of it. Periodicity simply means a tendency to storm at regular intervals and at stated times. During the past season, the time that nature has appointed, in this place, has been at 5 P. M., every other day. No one can fail to have noticed this fact, and no one can be sufficiently grateful to nature for this wise regulation. We can always calculate, to a moment, the time when the snow will begin to descend, the rain to pour, the ice to melt, the wind to blow-and knowing beforehand just what will take place, we can make calculations accordingly. This Periodicity also appears on the days given to recreation—that is, Sundays-I believe there has not been a stormy Saturday afternoon this year. Whatever the weather may be during the week, it is always sure to clear up by Friday night, so as to give a cloudless sky on the succeeding day. Some persons have kept statistics of these phenomena, and they all agree in stating, that for the past six months, there has been rarely an exception to this rule. But still, this provision is quite unfortunate, in one respect, for the students in College. Saturday afternoon is usually devoted to recreation, and if the sky is clear and pleasant, there is a very strong temptation to dissipate the energies and destroy the constitution by long walks into the country, or by skating at the Park, instead of laying up health and vigor by smoking, and lounging in the quiet of our warm and comfortable rooms. Thus far I have spoken only of the desirable feature of our climate. But there is another and a darker side to the picture. This essay I am now writing is to be a storehouse for future reference—it must be truthful—it must not be partial or one-sided. Candor compels me to say, that New Haven is troubled with Drought. Why, this very season, there was a whole week in which it did not rain more than three times a day, Sunday included; and instances are recorded, when an entire day passed, in which pedestrians were not compelled to wear rubber-boots or carry umbrellas. These are terrible facts, but honesty forbids me to omit them. But after all, this Drought is very beneficial to consumptives. Probably in no place in the country are colds so rare as in New Haven. At the morning prayers in College Chapel, we scarcely ever hear a hack, or a cough, even among five hundred students, and in the most terrible July weather. It is really pleasing to notice the enthusiasm with which once despairing consumptives, restored by a few months resi |
