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د ب ب به فرم عمومی در یک دوره نه و نو la 2 سے ان کا ما

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HARTFORD, Nov 10th, 1835. Rev. Dr. HAWES, Dear Sir,

The undersigned, a Committee appointed by the Citizens of the Town of Hartford, to superintend the Centennial Celebration of the 9th inst., respectfully request a copy of the very appropriate and acceptable address, delivered by you upon the occasion, in order that the same may be published, for the eye of the public.

We have the honor to be,
Sir, very respectfully, your obedient servants,

CYPRIAN NICHOLS,
JOSEPH TRUMBULL,
JARED GRISWOLD,
RODERICK TERRY,
D. F. ROBINSON,
ALBERT DAY,
E. W. BULL.

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ADDRESS.

How changed is the scene around us, from what our fathers beheld, when, two hundred years ago, they came and fixed here the place of their habitation and began the settlement of our state? The river that skirts our city rolls on in its accustomed channel; the hills and the valleys remain, and the general aspect of nature. But all else, how changed! The dark, unbroken forests have disappeared; the wild beasts that roamed those forests are gone; and the numerous tribes of Indians that inhabited these hills and valleys, and kindled here their council fires and shouted the war song, have passed away and are gone like the leaves of their native woods. Where, two centuries ago, naught was to be seen but a “waste, howling wilderness," we now behold flourishing towns and villages, the busy mart, and the crowded city, with all the accompaniments of a free, enlightened and Christian population. Instead of a wide, barren desert, we behold cultivated fields and smiling gardens; instead of savage tribes, we behold communities of civilized men; instead of the murky Indian hut, we behold comfortable houses and splendid public edifices; instead of the Indian canoe, silently darting along our river, in pursuit of the beaver and the otter, we behold the steamboat and the ship, proudly floating on its bosom, laden with the products of every clime; instead of the warwhoop and the cry of savage cruelty, we hear, on every side, the voice of peace and of comfort, and listen to the song of thanksgiving and praise, ascending from thousands of grateful hearts to the throne of the living God. We are not met, as were our fathers in 1635, in fear and want and gloomy bodings, to offer our wor

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