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THE

RURAL MAGAZINE,

AND

LITERARY EVENING FIRE-SIDE.


  VOL. I.  PHILADELPHIA, _Fifth Month, 1820.  No. 5_.




FOR THE RURAL MAGAZINE.

THE DESULTORY REMARKER.

No. IV.


Spring, that delightful visiter, to whom beauty and melody, Zephyrus
and Flora, pay their opulent but willing tribute, has once more
arrived. Let us welcome the enchanting stranger with joyful hearts,
and let feelings of gratitude ascend to the bountiful source of all
our enjoyments. Nature is now

  All beauty to the eye, and all music to the ear.

It is said by an eminent historian, in his memoirs of his own
life, that the disposition to "see the favourable rather than the
unfavourable side of things, is a turn of mind which it is more
happy to possess, than to be born to an estate of ten thousand a
year." Such a temper is not only a prolific source of complacency
to the individual who cherishes it, but by all who move within the
circle of its influence, its amiable and excellent effect is felt
and acknowledged. What a fortunate circumstance would it be for the
luckless wight, denominated by that pure and fascinating writer Dr.
GOLDSMITH, a _Magaziner_, as well as for his correspondents, should
none but critics, under the influence of this temper, undertake to
adjust their humble claims to merit. They are frequently selected,
by those who have not even read what they undertake to condemn,
as the objects of illiberal and unmeaning censure. The right to
criticise, is unquestionably perfectly valid; but, like other
rights, it is liable to abuse. By accustoming himself to indulge a
querulous, fault-finding propensity, on all occasions, even the most
distinguished orator may descend from the high station claimed for
him by his friends, to that of an inconsistent, petulant declaimer.
And notwithstanding the alternate epigrammatic point of his wit, and
the brilliant coruscations of his fancy, his speeches may at length
scarcely be heard with patience.

Courteous reader! if thou desirest to make the most of human life,
and to realize its positive blessings which are placed within thy
reach, listen to the counsels of experience, and pursue an opposite
course of conduct. Sedulously avoid the indulgence of a splenetic
humour, consult thy own gratification, and the happiness of those by
whom thou art surrounded, in contemplating

  The gayest, happiest attitude of things.

If thou art now scanning our present number, with no other
object than to detect errors and expose omissions; if thou
art pre-determined to censure, be pleased to defer a further
examination, until thou art more disposed to view the "_favourable
side of things_:" when this is the case, the editors will be
delighted to pay the most respectful attention to any judicious
suggestions, promotive of improvement, either in the plan or conduct
of this Miscellany.

If thou art placed in the truly responsible situation of head of
a family, thy children and domestics, if thy deportment convey to
them the beautiful moral lesson, afforded by a uniform contemplation
of the "_favourable side of things_," will derive from it the most
substantial advantages. Domestic happiness is of such an exquisite
and sensitive organization, that it cannot endure, no not for a
moment, the scowling visage of harshness or discord.

In the ordinary daily intercourse of life, nothing conduces more
to smooth the rugged path of existence, than urbanity and mutual
indulgence. We are so constituted, that the influence of our
conduct, whether exemplary or otherwise, is powerful on that of
those with whom we associate. It should, therefore, be our object
to cultivate the habit of viewing, on all occasions, the most
"_favourable side of things_."

Opinion is so much the child of education, of association, and of
other adventitious causes, that it is next to impossible to find
two individuals, whose sentiments on all subjects are perfectly
coincident. In politics, and on a subject which is infinitely more
important, religion itself, different sentiments as to minor points
are no doubt _honestly_ entertained. Let us, therefore, avoid
impugning the motives of those from whom we differ, particularly
where no conclusive evidence appears as to the absence of integrity
of intention, with an eye of charity. Let us in this instance, also,
contemplate the most "_favourable side of things_."

When overtaken by adverse circumstances, we are too prone, without
hesitation, to assume the privilege of complaint and to infer that
we are indeed peculiarly unfortunate. But how frequently have
incidents of this character been subsequently ascertained to be
blessings, although disguised in the most repulsive form.--When they
occur, instead of being overwhelmed with despondency, it is wise to
dwell on the more "_favourable side of things_."

When public measures receive the sanction of the civil government,
which are deemed destructive to the best interests of the nation,
and in utter hostility to every principle of morality and
religion,--disheartening as the fact may be, this consolation still
remains to the humble and sincere believer in the superintendence
of an overruling Providence, that truth and virtue will eventually
be signally triumphant. This cheering conviction, where there is a
consciousness of duty faithfully performed, will gild with radiance
the most gloomy prospect. The present is emphatically the season
of genial feelings, and nothing imparts a livelier relish for its
beauties, than that amiable temper of mind which on all occasions
delights to dwell on the most "_favourable side of things_."




FOR THE RURAL MAGAZINE.

THE VILLAGE TEACHER.


The three great periods of life have each their natural and
appropriate characteristic. The eager expectation, the buoyant
hope and elastic energy, which lend their own joyous brilliancy to
every object around them, and build in the unknown future so fair
and beautiful a fabric of happiness, last not beyond the period of
youth. The anxious brow, the cold and untrusting prudence, which
succeed, but too surely indicate how many of our fairy visions have
become dim in the reality; while the steady industry and calculating
foresight with which manhood pursues more practical and perhaps
grovelling objects, stamp upon it a peculiar character of strength,
and seriousness, and sternness. As this relaxes in the course of
years, our ability and inclination for active pursuits give way;
and as the termination of our journey is approached, the hope of
future distinction ceases, and we naturally fill up the void which
is thus left in the mind, by a retrospect of our past actions.--Thus
it is that the seasons of life, like those of the year, are each
most beautiful in its own proper adornings, and that there is none
more delightful or endearing than reverend age. The long experience
which has tried the worthlessness of so many empty and vanishing
hopes, and which can pronounce with certainty respecting that which
remaineth; the knowledge of those past events, that form the link
as it were between us and history, and which not only aids us in
deciphering the past, but is endued with a prophetic gift; the
attempered zeal, the tranquil repose of the passions, so finely
and happily compared to the decline of day--impart their pure and
elevated feelings to the mind of the beholder.

It is in such society that youth may best learn to prune the
luxuriance of its hopes, and manhood to elevate its views beyond the
narrow scene of action where they now expatiate. It is in age that
the noble instinct of immortality is most conspicuous, that we feel
most surely that the horizon of this life cannot bound our mental
vision. The consolations of youth and manhood may have no higher
source than in surrounding objects--in love, or friendship, or
ambition; but age is dead to these impulses, and must be reanimated
and warmed by the influences of the life which is to come.

Such an old age is that of my friend Parmenio. He has survived
nearly all the companions of his childhood, and seen successive
generations swept away before him. After a life of useful and
honourable enterprise, he has retired to end his days in our little
hamlet amidst the scenes of his earliest youth. He has dandled on
his knee the fathers of many who now look up to him for counsel and
friendship, yet is there no supercilious air of dignity or reserve
about him. His placid eye bespeaks the serenity of his soul, and the
hope which abideth there; and though you see in his sprightliness
and activity the energy of his earlier life, it is most happily
blended with the meekness and tranquillity of age. He wears away his
remaining years in the social converse of his children and their
friends, and looks forward to his close without fear or anxiety.

I often meet him in my solitary evening walks, and we usually finish
them together. We were loitering one evening on the brow of the
hill which overlooks the course of a beautiful stream that flows
at a small distance from the village, and marking the glories of
an autumnal sunset.--"The sands," said he, "are fast ebbing in my
glass, and I feel that my allotted days are but few. I have past a
life of bustling activity, and seen a thousand forms of hope and
happiness rise and vanish before me. They have all vanished--all,
but that which is centered in heaven. I am not a votary of that vain
philosophy which would pronounce all things to be vanity; yet could
my voice be heard by the myriads of human beings who are wasting
the sinews of life in the pursuit of wealth and power, I would warn
them, from my own experience, that happiness is not in these things.
Were I to guide the course of a young person, I would bid him extend
this view, from the first, beyond the horizon of this world. I would
tell him of the utter emptiness of all human distinctions. I would
bid him pursue his avocations as a means only of health and support,
and of invigorating his mind. I would turn his feet from the paths
of fame and wealth, to those of retirement and privacy, and would
there feed his soul with immortal contemplations. Thus would I fit
him to ennoble his youth, to preserve his manhood unspotted, and to
enjoy his age. How many events are there in the course of my own
life, which I would now give the world to have prevented--duties
undone, labour misapplied, talents wasted, feelings perverted; and
all from sharing in the delusions to which the world around me is a
victim. In how many events which I once thought were accidents or
misfortunes, do I now trace an invisible hand, guiding me against my
will, and pointing to that path of unostentatious virtue which He
delights to bless. These things, however, cannot be recalled; and
as yonder sun, after a cold and cloudy career, is setting at last
in serene and tranquil beauty, and throwing his own glorious hues
upon the clouds which darkened his mid-day splendour; so do I feel
that my latter days are peaceful, and that the lights of experience
and wisdom, though late, are yet illuminating my past errors, and
enabling me to point them out as beacons and waymarks to those that
surround me."




_Extract of a Letter from William Coxe, Esq. on the Cultivation of
the Sugar Maple._

  BURLINGTON, March 7th, 1820.

DEAR SIR--I understand that you have been directing your attention
to the Sugar Maple, in the belief that it will be found an
advantageous substitute for the several varieties of poplars, as
a useful as well as ornamental tree; and that you are desirous of
obtaining any information respecting its culture, or properties,
that I may be able to communicate.

I have for some time been convinced that none of the poplars would
prove a beneficial kind of timber to our farmers, from their
disposition to extend their roots, and propagate suckers at a great
distance, and from the offensive cotton which is produced by the
Athenian and Georgia varieties--and I have made many experiments
in the hope of discovering a tree, valuable for its timber, and
clean and ornamental in its foliage, which could be propagated by
seedlings. Among others, I planted the Sugar Maple and am happy to
find it one of the hardiest and handsomest trees, even on the light
sandy soil around my house; capable of withstanding the severity of
the drought of the last and preceding summers, the most intense that
are recollected in our country. Of eighteen trees I lost but two,
while the native chesnuts, raised from the nut, all perished; and
little better success was experienced in a variety of trees planted
on the same ground, such as the pine, sycamore, larch, spruce, &c.
The American elm is thought to be a hardy tree, but with me it
proved less so than the sugar maple. It is generally believed that
all the varieties of the maple require a damp soil: this is the case
with several of them, but the _acer saccharum_ flourishes in a loamy
wheat soil, in many districts of our western and northern country.
The facility by which it may be propagated from the seed, renders
its diffusion through our country, to any extent, very easy and
cheap.

Few of our native trees are more useful for fuel, and the
manufacture of potash; and as the means of affording a great and
almost inexhaustible supply of sugar, it becomes an object of great
importance, even to the farmer, who is desirous of transmitting
a valuable inheritance to his children. It is my intention to
plant this tree in the place of a line of the Athenian poplars,
which I have been obliged to cut down after eight years luxuriant
growth, from their injurious effect on the adjoining fields, by the
extension of their roots to sixty and seventy feet, throwing up a
little forest of suckers.




_Treatise on Agriculture._

SECT. III.

Theory of Vegetation.


3d. Of _air_, and its agency in vegetation:

A seed deprived of air will not germinate; and a plant placed under
an exhausted receiver, will soon perish. Even in a close and badly
ventilated garden, vegetables indicate their situation; they are
sickly in appearance, and vapid in taste.--These facts sufficiently
shew the general utility of air to vegetation: but this _air_ is
not now the simple and elementary body, that the ancient chymist
described it to be. Priestly first,[1] and Lavoisier after him,
analyzed it, and found, that when pure, it consisted of about
70 parts of azote, 27 of oxygen, and 2 of carbonic acid. In its
ordinary (or impure) state, it is loaded with foreign and light
bodies; such as mineral, animal and vegetable vapours, the seeds
of plants, and the eggs of insects, &c. Is it to this _aggregate_,
that vegetation owes the services rendered to it by air? And if not,
to _how many_, and to _which_, of its regular constituents, are we
to ascribe them? This inquiry will form the subject of the present
article.

  [1] See Priestly's Experiments and Observations on different kinds
  of Air, begun in 1767.

All vegetables in a state of decomposition, give _azote_; and
some of them (cabbages, radishes, &c.) give it in great quantity.
This abundance, combined with the fact, that vegetation is always
vigorous in the neighbourhood of dead animal matter, led to the
opinion, that azote contributed largely to the growth of plants: but
experiments, more exactly made and often repeated, disprove this
opinion, and shew that in any quantity it is unnecessary, and that
in a certain proportion it is fatal to vegetation.

In _hydrogen gas_, plants are found to be variously affected,
according to their local situation; if inhabitants of mountains,
they soon perish--if of plains, they shew a constant debility--but
if of marshy grounds, their growth is not impeded.

_Carbonic acid_ is formed and given out during the process of
fermentation, putrefaction, respiration, &c. and makes 28 parts
out of 100 of atmospheric air. It is composed (according to Davy)
of oxygen and carbon, in the proportion of 34 of the former to
13 of the latter. It combines freely with many different bodies;
animals and vegetables are almost entirely composed of it; for the
_coal_ which they give, on combustion, is but _carbon_ united to a
little oxygen, &c.--Priestly was the first to discover, that plants
_absorbed carbonic acid_; and Ingenhouse, Sennebier, and De Sausure
have proved, that _it_ is their _principal aliment_. Indeed the
great consumption made of it, cannot be explained by any natural
process, excepting that of vegetation. On this head, we cannot do
better than digest the experiments of these chymists into a few
distinct propositions:[2]

  [2] Recherches chemiques sur la vegetation, chap. ii.

1. In pure carbonic acid gas, seeds will swell, but not germinate.
2. United with water, this gas hastens vegetation. 3. Air containing
more than one twelfth part of its volume of carbonic acid, is most
favourable to vegetation. 4. Turf, or other carbonaceous earth,
which contains much carbonic acid, is unfavourable to vegetation
until it has been exposed to the action of atmospheric air, or of
lime, &c. 5. If slacked lime be applied to a plant, its growth will
be impaired, until the lime shall have recovered the carbonic acid
it lost by calcination. 6. Plants kept in an artificial atmosphere,
and charged with carbonic acid, yield, on combustion, more of that
acid than plants of the same kind and weight growing in atmospheric
air. 7. When plants are exposed to air and sunshine, the carbonic
acid of the atmosphere is consumed, and a portion of oxygen left in
its place. If new supplies of carbonic acid be given to the air,
the same result follows; whence it has been concluded, that air
furnishes carbonic acid to the plant, and the plant furnishes oxygen
to the air.--This double function of absorption and respiration,
is performed by the green leaves of plants.[3] 8. Carbon is to
vegetation, what oxygen is to animal life; it gives support by
purifying the liquids, and rendering the solids more compact.

  [3] This was a discovery of Sennebier.

4th. Of _light_, _heat_, and _electricity_, and their agency in
vegetation:

When deprived of light, plants are pale, lax and dropsical;
restored to it, they recover their colour, consistency and odour.
If a plant be placed in a cellar, into which is admitted a small
portion of light through a window or cranny, thither the plant
directs its growth, and even acquires an unnatural length in its
attempt to reach it.[4] These facts admitted, no one can doubt the
agency of light in vegetation; but in relation to this agency,
various opinions exist; one, that light enters vegetable matter,
and combines with it; another, that it makes no part either of the
vegetable or of its aliment, but directly influences substances
which are alimentary;[5] and a third, that besides the last effect,
it stimulates the organs of plants to the exercise of their natural
functions.[6]

  [4] It is by a knowledge of this fact, that gardeners bleach chicony
  and cellery, &c.

  [5] See Fourcroy, vol. viii.

  [6] See Chaptal on vegetation.

Without doing more than state these opinions, we proceed to offer
the results of many experiments on this subject. 1st. That _in the
dark_, no oxygen is produced, nor any carbonic acid absorbed; on the
contrary, oxygen is absorbed and carbonic acid produced. 2d. That
plants exposed to _light_, produce oxygen gas in water. 3d. That
_light_ is essential to vegetable transpiration; as this process
never takes place during the _night_, but is copious during the
_day_; and, 4th. That plants raised _in the dark_, abound in watery
and saccharine juices--but are deficient in woody fibre, oil, and
resins; whence it is concluded, that saccharine compounds are formed
in the _night_, and oil, resins, &c. in the _day_.

When the weather is at or below the freezing point, the sap of
plants remains suspended and hardened in the albumum;[7] but on the
application of _heat_, whether naturally or artificially excited,
this sap is rendered fluid, is put into motion, and the buds begin
to swell. Under the same impulse, through the medium of the earth,
the roots open their pores, receive nutritive juices, and carry them
to the heart of the plant. The leaves, being now developed, begin
and continue the exercise of their functions, till winter again,
in the economy of nature, suspends the operations of the machine.
Nor is its action confined to the circulation of vegetable juices.
Without vapour (its legitimate offspring) the fountain and the
shower would be unknown--nor would the great processes of animal and
vegetable fermentation and decomposition go on. Without rain or
other means ameliorating the soil, what would be the aspect of the
globe? what the state of vegetation? what the situation of man?

  [7] Knight's Observations, &c.

The diffusion of _electrical_ matter, found in the air and in
all other substances, furnishes a presumption, that it is an
efficient agent in vegetation. Nollet and others have thought that,
artificially employed, it favoured the germination of seeds and
the growth of plants; and Mr. Davy "found, that corn sprouted more
rapidly in water, _positively_ electrified by the voltaic battery,
than in water _negatively_ electrified."[8] These opinions have
not escaped contradiction, and _we_ do not profess to decide where
doctors disagree.

  [8] Davy's Elements.

5th. Of _stable yard manures_, _lime_, _marl_, and _gypsum_, and
their agency in vegetation:

We have already said, that vegetables in the last stage of
decomposition, yield a black or brown powder, which Mr. Davy calls
"_a peculiar extractive matter, of fertilizing quality_," and which
the chymists of France have denominated _terreau_. This vegetable
residuum is the simple mean employed by nature to re-establish
that principle of fertility in the soil, which the wants of man
and other animals are constantly drawing from it. It was first
analyzed by Hassenfratz, who found it to contain an oily, extractive
and carbonaceous matter, charged with hydrogen; the acetates
and benzoates of potash, lime and ammoniac; the sulphates and
muriates of potash, and a soupy substance, previously noticed by
Bergman.--Among other properties (and which shows its combustible
character) is that of absorbing, from atmospheric air, its oxygen,
and leaving it only azote. This was discovered by Ingenhouse, who,
with De Sausure and Bracconnet, pursued the subject by many new and
interesting experiments, the result of which is--

1. That the oxygen thus absorbed, deprives the terreau of part of
its carbon, which it renders soluble and converts into mucilage; and

2. That the carbonic acid, formed in the process, combines with the
mucilage, and with it is absorbed by the roots of plants.

If we put a plant and a quantity of slacked lime under the same
receiver, the plant will perish; because the lime will take from
the atmospheric air all the carbonic acid it contains, and thus
_starve_ the plant. Vegetables, placed near heaps of lime in the
open air, suffer from the same cause and in the same way; but
though lime, in _large_ quantities, destroys vegetation, in _small_
quantities it renders vegetation more vigorous. Its action is of
two kinds--mechanical and chymical; the first is a mere division
of the soil by an interposition between its parts; the second, the
faculty of rendering soluble vegetable matter, and reducing it to
the condition of terreau.

The _mechanical_ agency ascribed to lime, belongs also to _marle_
and to _ashes_, and in an equal degree--but their _chymical_
operation, though similar, is less.[9]

  [9] Vegetable ashes are _lime_, combined with an earthy saline
  matter.

_Gypsum_ is composed of lime and sulphuric acid. Mayer was the
first to present to the public a series of experiments upon it, in
its relation to agriculture. Many chymists have followed him, and
a great variety of opinion yet exists with regard to its mode of
operation. Yvart thinks that the action of gypsum is exclusively the
effect of the sulphuric acid, which enters into its composition; and
founds this opinion upon the fact, that the ashes of turf, which
contain sulphate of iron and sulphate of alumina, have the same
action upon vegetation as gypsum. Laysterie, observing that plants,
whose roots were nearest the surface of the soil, were most acted
upon by plaster, concludes, that gypsum takes from the atmosphere
the elements of vegetable life and transmits them directly to
plants. Bose intimates, that the _septic_ quality of gypsum (which
he takes for granted) best explains its action on vegetation; but
this opinion is subverted by the experiments of Mr. Davy, who found,
that of two parcels of minced veal, the one mixed with gypsum, the
other left by itself, and both exposed to the action of the sun,
the _latter_ was the first to exhibit symptoms of putrefaction. Mr.
Davy's own belief on this subject is, that it makes part of the food
of vegetables, is received into the plant and combined with it. The
last opinion we shall offer on this head, is that of the celebrated
Chaptal. "Of all substances, gypsum is that of whose action we
know the least. The prodigious effect it has on the whole race of
trefoils, (clover, &c.) cannot be explained by any _mechanical_
agency--the quantity applied being so small--or by any _stimulating_
power--since gypsum, raw or roasted, has nearly the same effect;
nor by any _absorbent_ quality, as it only acts when applied to the
leaves. If permitted to conjecture its mode of operation, we should
say, that its effect being greatest when applied to the _wet_ leaves
of vegetables, it may have the faculty of absorbing and giving out
water and carbonic acid, little by little, to the growing plant.
It may also be considered as an _aliment in itself_--an idea much
supported by Mr. Davy's experiments, which shew, that the ashes
of clover yield gypsum, though the clover be raised on soils not
naturally containing that substance."

  [_Alb. Argus._

(To be continued.)




MANURES OF GREEN CROPS.


All _green succulent plants_ contain saccharine or mucilaginous
matter, with woody fibre, and readily ferment. They cannot,
therefore, if intended for manure, be used too soon after their
death.

When _green crops_ are to be employed for enriching a soil, they
should be ploughed in, if it be possible, when in flower, or at the
time the flower is beginning to appear, for it is at this period
that they contain the largest quantity of easily soluble matter,
and that their leaves are most active in forming nutritive matter.
Green crops, pond weeds, the paring of hedges or ditches, or any
kind of fresh vegetable matter, requires no preparation to fit them
for manure. The decomposition slowly proceeds beneath the soil; the
soluble matters are gradually dissolved, and the slight fermentation
that goes on, checked by the want of a free communication of air,
tends to render the woody fibre soluble without occasioning the
rapid dissipation of elastic matter.

When old pastures are broken up, and made arable, not only has the
soil been enriched by the death and slow decay of the plants which
have left soluble matters in the soil; but the leaves and roots of
the grasses living at the time, and occupying so large a part of the
surface, afford saccharine, mucilaginous, and extractive matters,
which become immediately the food of the crop, and the gradual
decomposition affords a supply for successive years.

  [_Davy's Agric. Chem._




ESSAY ON AGRICULTURE.


The judicious and increasing attention of our citizens to
agricultural pursuits, must be regarded, by every enlightened
friend of his country, as among the happiest presages of its future
prosperity. Agriculture, the most ancient and useful of the arts,
the inseparable companion, if not the parent, of civilization,
is rapidly obtaining that rank in public estimation, to which
its intimate connexion with the cardinal interests of every well
regulated community gives it so unquestionable a claim. The absurd
prejudice, which has associated the cultivation of the soil with
the idea of an ignoble servitude, is fast disappearing under the
influence of milder systems of government, and has already ceased to
operate on minds having the least pretensions to discrimination or
enlargement of view.--The Patriarch of the human race was commanded
by his Creator to "_replenish the earth, and to subdue it_;" we may,
therefore, infer, that a limited attention to agriculture was among
the happy employments of Adam, in the days of primeval innocence.

But, in the language of a distinguished prelate, that original
transgression which banished man from Paradise, banished Paradise
from the earth. The primal curse is still in unmitigated operation,
and, without "_the sweat of the brow_," the least reluctant soils
will yield but scanty fruits for the sustenance and the comfort of
man. Toil is an indispensable pre-requisite in every department of
life, where wealth, or honour, or even _daily bread_, is sought
with a reasonable prospect of success. The scholar, amid the lofty
abstractions of the closet, when fatigued by incessant vigils,
realizes the painful truth, that "_much study is a weariness of
the flesh_." The merchant, though stimulated by the incitements of
enterprise and the bustle of occupation, must occasionally feel
the energies of his body and mind relax under the pressure of
business, without variety and without remission. And how grievous
are the toils of those _choice spirits_ who discover no enterprise
but in the pursuit of pleasure--who disdain to "_eat the bread of
carefulness_," and seek, amid the fugitive joys of sensuality, a
temporary refuge from the torpor of dejection, or the oppressive
listlessness of voluntary inaction.

Let not the unobtrusive husbandman fear to compare his lot with that
of those whose proud externals and apparent exemption from toil are
extremely fallacious indications of their just rank on the scale
of human happiness. Living in a land of promise and of plenty, and
under the government of mild equal laws, the American Farmer must
exult in the consciousness that "_the lines are fallen to him in
pleasant places_"--that his is, in truth, a goodly heritage. He
loves the soil, because it is the legacy of his fathers, and because
he derives from its fruitful bosom the means of sustaining life, and
protecting his feelings and opinions from the dictation of arrogance
and the various temptations of penury.

His quiet and unsophisticated modes of thinking and living,
indispose him to listen with eagerness to the solicitations of
intrigue or sedition, and it is proverbial that the contagious
frenzy of revolution, extends not without difficulty, to the
cautious, reflective, and well balanced mind of the farmer.

  [_R. I. American._




ON DRESSING FLAX.

     _Extract of a Letter from R. H. Harrison, Esq. to J. Wood,
     Corresponding Secretary of the Cayuga Agricultural Society, N.
     Y. dated_

  NEW YORK, March 27, 1820.


DEAR SIR--Every farmer is acquainted with the method of raising
flax, and also of _rotting_ it; or, as it is generally called,
water and dew _retting_, and the method of separating the boon, or
woody matter, from the harle, or useful fibre. Flax has deservedly
the character of being one of the most impoverishing crops, in the
present method of treating it: it makes no return, either as animal
food, or as manure, to the land; it is therefore surprising that a
discovery which was to obviate all these disadvantages should only
have been brought into practice within a few years.

A Mr. James Lee, in England, discovered that the process of steeping
and dew retting flax, or hemp, was not necessary; and that if
treated and dressed dry, it will be superior in every respect,
produce more, and make considerable return to the land, as fodder
for cattle and as manure.

A patent was granted to him in 1812; and of such importance was
it considered, that he obtained an act of parliament to keep his
specification secret for seven years. This may be a reason why so
little has been known of it in this country. I have, however, one
of his machines in my possession, and have dressed flax with it.
It consists of a break, or as he called it, a scraper, to separate
the boon out of the stem, &c.--it is then passed through a pair of
finely fluted rollers, and is finished and ready for the hackle.

The flax plants, when ripe, are to be pulled, to be spread and dried
the same as hay, laying the roots in one direction; when dry, to be
carried into the barn: And from the report of a committee of the
house of commons on the petition of James Lee, and also on petition
of Lee and Bundy, respecting their new machine for this purpose, it
appears that the following are the results of Mr. Lee's discovery:

1st. That preparing flax and hemp, in a dry state, for spinning,
answered most completely; the cost of preparing is less, it avoids
the risk of steeping, and saves _time_ and _material_.

2d. The _strength_ and quality of the cloth is much superior to that
from flax, water steeped or dew rotted.

3d. The great advantage from the quantity of food for cattle, and
also manure obtained by this new method, the boon, or outer coat of
the flax, containing a sixth of the gluten of oats, the woody part
being excellent for manure.

It also appeared in evidence before the committee, that

  100 _lbs._ flax, in a dry state,
  produced one fourth,                      25 lbs. fibre

  100 _lbs._ flax, dew retted,
  produced one eleventh,                     9  1-1/2
                                             ________
                           Excess,    _lbs._ 15 14-1/2

or a saving in proportion as 90 to 33.

In confirmation of this I can only say, I procured some flax, in
its dry state, which had been thrown away as not worth _retting_--4
lbs. of dry flax produced 1 _lb._ of fibre fit for the hackle: when
dressed in Lee's machine, the samples of flax, tow, and thread,
though, from the poor quality of the flax, inferior to some samples
of English flax dressed in the same manner, were greatly superior to
any that had been retted.

I have, however, never made the experiment of weighing the flax, and
then ascertaining its produce when retted; but from the knowledge
of those who gave evidence to this point, have no doubt of its
correctness.

There is another advantage; the flax dressed in a dry state becomes
much whiter, and is easier bleached--merely washing it in soap and
water makes it white: the finest particles of flax are also saved,
which are essential to the manufacture of lace, or very fine linen:
the seed is also all preserved.

Mr. Brande, professor of chymistry at the Royal Institution, made
some experiments on the nutritious quality of the chaff: the result
was, an eighth of nutritious matter. Mr. Lee says, it is equal to a
crop of oats for feeding cattle; and it appeared also, that horses,
when accustomed to it, prefer it to clover chaff.

Having thus briefly stated the advantages of the dry method of
dressing flax, I will proceed to give some account of the machines
for preparing it, which have been invented since Mr. Lee's. The
best appears to be Hill and Bundy's, for which Mr. Bundy obtained
a patent, in England. It consists of two machines, a breaker and
a rubber; the first for separating the harle from the boon; the
second cleanses it from small particles of wood and bark, left by
the breaker.

The breaker consists of fine fluted rollers, so disposed as to
draw the flax through them, at the same time to take off the woody
parts from it; once passing through is generally sufficient. It
is a machine combining great mechanical skill, and on an entirely
different principle from Mr. Lee's, and is not liable to get out of
order.

The rubber is made to have the same effect as rubbing by hand would,
to cleanse the fibre, and open and subdivide it, to produce the
finest thread.

Mr. Lee has invented a new machine, consisting of fluted rollers, to
work by water or horse power: it is different from Hill and Bundy's,
which is worked by hand; and the rollers work differently.

From experiments made by the different machines, it appears by the
report of the committee of the house of commons, that in Hill and
Bundy's, one breaker and two rubbers would produce 80 _lbs._ of
prepared flax in a day, and would require one man or woman and three
children: the work is light--a man can turn two breakers and two
rubbers.

Lee's machine would produce about 11 _lbs._ a day; his new machine,
worked by water, will product 50 _lbs._ in a day, and requires three
men or women to attend it.

Having never made any of the machines, I can only state the probable
cost. Hill and Bundy's one breaker and two rubbers, could be
furnished for about $200. Lee's machine, at from 60 to $70. His new
machine I have never seen a draft of, and could not tell the cost.

The high cost of Hill and Bundy's machine will prevent our farmers
generally from obtaining it. But what better business can be done,
than purchasing the flax, in its dry state, from the farmer, to
manufacture it in this way; and every town might employ its paupers
in dressing flax by these machines: they might also be introduced
into our state prisons and penitentiaries with good effect.

Having given you this hasty sketch of the recent improvement in
dressing flax, I would suggest to our agricultural societies
generally, to procure one of the machines, as there can be no doubt
of their answering. The general introduction of them would not only
promote greatly our agricultural prosperity, but also the domestic
manufactures of this state.




_To dress Flax to look like Silk._--Take one part lime and between
two or three parts of wood ashes; pour over them a due proportion
of water to make a strong ley, after they have stood together all
night, which must be poured off when quite clear. Tie handfuls of
flax at both ends, to prevent its entangling, but let the middle of
each be spread open, and put it in a kettle, on the bottom of which
has been first placed a little straw, with a cloth over it, then put
another cloth over the flax, and so continue covering each layer of
flax with a cloth, till the kettle is nearly full. Pour over the
whole the clear ley, and after boiling it for some hours, take it
out, and throw it in cold water: this boiling, &c. may be repeated,
if requisite. The flax must be each time dried, hackled, beaten and
rubbed fine; and, at last, dressed through a large comb, and through
a very fine one. By this process the flax acquires a bright and
soft thread. The tow which is off, when papered up and combed like
cotton, is not only used for many of the same purposes, but makes
lint for veterinary surgeons, &c.

  [_Am. Farmer._




AGRICULTURAL MEMORANDA.


_Caterpillars._--Hemp is a great enemy to caterpillars. By
surrounding a bed of cabbages with a row of hemp, the cabbages will
be preserved.

_Churning._--After churning some time, throw into the churn one
spoonful of distilled vinegar for every gallon of cream. When
churning proves tedious, this will greatly hasten the separation of
the butter.

_To cure Hams Westphalia fashion._--Sprinkle your ham with common
salt for one day; then wipe it dry. Take 1 _lb._ brown sugar, 1/4
_lb._ saltpetre, 1/2 pint bay salt, and 3 pints common salt. Stir
these well together in an iron pan over the fire till moderately
hot. The ham to lie in this pickle for three weeks.

_Rue._--The growth of this plant ought to be cherished in every
stock yard; nothing being more salutary or even pleasant to fowls.

_Guinea Corn._--The stalks of this grain, if pressed, are said to
yield a juice sweeter and of greater body than the sugar cane.

_Carrots._--According to some agricultural reports, carrots will
yield 600 or even 900 bushels per acre.

At the last meeting of _The Columbian Institute_, some valuable
specimens of _American plants_, beautifully preserved, were
presented by Dr. _Darlington_, a representative in Congress from
Pennsylvania; and several fine specimens of _American minerals_,
chiefly collected in the valley of the Mississippi, by Mr.
_Schoolcraft_, the ingenious author of a work which has lately
appeared on the lead mines of Missouri, and natural history, &c. of
the western country.

_To make fat Lamb._--"To make or fatten lamb for the market, let
your ewes be well attended to, and fed upon a patch of rye; upon
turnips, or other corresponding food; affording abundant milk. As
fast as your lambs fall, and can run well alone, all you have are to
be shut up together in a dark pen or stall, of proportionate size
to the number of lambs you expect, having a narrow trough, breast
high to them, to be daily supplied with Indian corn meal; with the
bran in it; and hanging up within their reach one or more wisps
or small bundles of fine hay for them to nibble, at. This stall
must communicate with, or adjoin, a larger apartment, into which
you are to turn ewes twice or thrice a day, to suckle their lambs,
and to sleep all night with them.--Before turning the ewes out
to pasture, each time, the lambs must be lifted into their small
dark pen, or stall, (one six or eight feet square, is sufficiently
large for thirty lambs or more,) where they will have no room to
skip or play their fat away; here they will nibble so much of the
fine hay, and eat so much of the dry Indian corn meal, from want
of other employment, as to render themselves voraciously thirsty
against the next meal of milk from their dams; which, with the other
causes mentioned, makes them grow surprisingly large and fat in a
short time. Lambs thus educated, will often promiscuously suck the
ewes, without knowing or being attached to their own dams.--Hence
a very great advantage: for when all grow large and strong, they
become capable of consuming more milk than a single ewe can afford;
and more especially those ewes which have two or more lambs each.
For upon killing off all the lambs of a ewe, that ewe continues
to give suck to the other lambs promiscuously as before, to the
great advantage of the surviving lambs, now requiring additional
nourishment. This is not the case when lambs run out at large with
their dams."

_New method of inoculating trees._--A common method of inoculating
is by making a transverse section in the back of the stock and a
perpendicular slit below it; the bud is then pushed down to give
it the position which it is to have. This method is not always
successful; it is better to reverse it, by making the verticle slit
above the transverse section, and pushing the bud upwards into its
position--a method which rarely fails of success; because as the
sap descends by the bark, as has been ascertained, and does not
ascend, the bud thus placed above the transverse section, receives
abundance, but when placed below, the sap cannot reach it.

_Grape Vines._--About one month since, I trimmed a very luxurious
grape vine, calculating that I was early enough to allow the wound
made by the cutting to heal before the sap began to rise; but to my
surprise I found, three days since, the sap issuing from every part
where the knife had been used, the ground was completely wet with
it: I tried rosin and other things to stop it, without avail. In
conversation with a neighbour he informed me, that to stick a potato
on the part would stop the sap. I tried it and found it to succeed
completely. Apprehending that many persons may, at this season,
have vines similarly situated with mine, I thought communicating
the above might give them an opportunity of benefiting by the
information. A. B.

  [_N. Y. Daily Adv._

_To dry Peaches._--The following mode of drying peaches is adopted
by Thomas Belanjee, of Egg Harbour, New Jersey:--He has a small
house with a stove in it, and drawers in the sides of the house,
lathed at their bottoms. Each drawer will hold nearly half a bushel
of peaches, which should be ripe, and not peeled, but cut in two,
and laid on the laths with their skins downwards, so as to save the
juice. On shoving the drawer in they are soon dried by the hot air
of the stove and laid up. Peaches thus dried are clear from fly
dirt, excellently flavoured, and command a high price in market.
Pears thus dried eat like raisins. With a paring machine, which may
be had for a dollar or two, apples or pears may be pared, and a
sufficient quantity dried, to keep a family in pies, and apple bread
and milk, till apples come again. With a paring machine, one person
can pare for five or six cutters.




CANKER ON PLUM TREES.


  _Lansingburg, April 5, 1820._

S. SOUTHWICK, Esq.

_Sir_--I observe in your _Plough Boy_ of the 1st inst. some
observations on the disease in Plum Trees, called _Canker_, wherein
the writer states that the disease is probably caused by the trees
being bark-bound. I have had sufficient proof to convince me that
it is caused by insects only. From a variety of observations and
experiments, I find that when young shoots are throwing out of the
trees, they are stung by a species of fly, and a number of eggs or
nits are deposited through the tender bark, where they remain until
the tree commences growing the next season; those places then begin
to swell, and after a few weeks, small worms can be distinctly
observed by the naked eye, which, after about one month more is
elapsed, eat out of the protuberances, then become black, take to
themselves wings, and commence operations as before stated.

The only remedy that I can discover, is to cut off every limb
affected, on its first appearance; and if the tree be so much
affected as to be past cure, it should be totally cut down, in order
to destroy the whole race of insects which cause the disease. The
first discovery of this complaint was on the sea-board: and it has
advanced north about twenty miles a year. At present nearly all
the bearing trees on the sea coast to the southeast, are totally
destroyed, and it pervades all this part of the country. The poorest
natural blue plums are first attacked--the dark coloured grafts,
next--and lastly, the light coloured fruit fall victims. Some
few kinds as yet withstand their attacks. By observing the above
caution, my trees are entirely free from them, and bear abundantly.
I am, Sir,

  Yours, &c.
      ARBOREUM.




ON DOMESTIC MANUFACTURES.


SIR--The Montgomery Agricultural Society have announced the
following 40 premiums to be awarded to ladies in October, 1820. As
some of them are novel, their publication in the Plough Boy, I am
persuaded, will have an excellent effect, as an example.

  W.

       *       *       *       *       *

  To the lady who shall produce the best
  piece of cloth, made of merino wool,
  spun in the family, not less than 15
  yards,                                      $8

  2d best do.                                  6

  For the best piece of cloth made of
  common wool, spun in the family, not
  less than 15 yards,                          6

  2d best do.                                  4

  For the best piece of flannel, spun in
  the family, of merino wool, not less
  than 20 yards,                               6

  2d best do.                                  4

  For the best piece of flannel made of
  common wool, spun in the family,
  not less than 20 yards,                      5

  2d best do.                                  4

  For the best pair of rose blankets, spun
  and made in the county,                      5

  2d best do.                                  4

  For the best piece of carpeting, spun
  in the family,                               6

  2d best do.                                  5

  For the best external covering for beds,
  spun in the county,                          4

  2d best do.                                  3

  For the best hearth rug, spun and made
  in the family,                               3

  2d best do.                                  2

  For the best pair of worsted stockings,
  made and knit in the family,                 1

  2d best do.                                 75 cents

  For the best pair of woollen stockings,
  spun and knit in the family,                 1

  2d best do.                                 75 cents

  For the best pair of cotton stockings,
  knit in the family,                          1

  2d best do.                                 75 cents

  For the best pair of linen stockings,
  spun and knit in the family,                 1

  2d best do.                                 75 cents

  For the best half pound of sewing linen
  thread, spun in the family,                  4

  2d best do.                                  3

  For the best pair half stockings, knit
  by a girl not over 14 years of age,          1

  2d best do.                                 75 cents

  For the best 15 runs of linen yarn, spun
  by a girl not over 14 years of age,          4

  2d best do.                                  3

  3d best do.                                  2

  For the best pair of double mittens,
  spun and knit by a girl not over 14
  years of age,                              $1

  2d best do.                                75 cents

  For the best table linen, not less than
  15 yards,                                   6

  2d best do.                                 4

  For the best piece of linen, not less
  than 15 yards, spun in the family,          6

  2d best do.                                 4

  For the best Lady's straw or grass bonnet,
  made in the county, of materials
  of the growth of the state,                 8

  2d best do.                                 7

  3d best do.                                 6

  To the Lady who shall attend the next
  annual fair in the best homespun
  dress,                                     20

  2d best do.                                18

  3d best do.                                16

  4th best do.                               14

  5th best do.                               12

  6th best do.                               10




WOODEN SOALED SHOES.


Mr. Custis of Arlington, near Alexandria in a letter to the editor
dated 1st Feb. last, observes--"Wooden soaled shoes are the very
best for labourers that I ever met with. They keep the feet warm and
dry in ditching, and in all kinds of labour, to be performed out of
doors in winter, and are a saving in expense of fully 80 per cent.
My people are all shod in this way, and themselves declare that they
never were so comfortable in their feet before, while my leather
bill from $100, has been reduced to scarce $20.

You form the soal, after the appearance of the leather soal and
heel, the wood about half or three fourths of an inch in thickness,
around the upper edge, is cut a rabbit, into which is nailed (with
ordinary sized tacks) the upper leather.--Not a particle of thread
is needed, except to close the two parts of upper leather.--Every
man may be his own shoemaker, and a man would put together a dozen
pair a day. In slippery weather, small plates of iron are nailed
around the toes and heels, and frost nails driven in them, which
also protects tects the soal from wear. Gum, ash, or dogwood, are
best for the soals, and about two sets will last the winter.--The
feet are never cold, or wet, and hence will be remedied those
chronic pains and evils, to which labourers are subject, from
exposure to cold and wet. For any purpose but a foot race, these are
the very best shoes, and I doubt whether even Sir Humphrey Davy has
made a more useful discovery in the last twenty years."

  [_Am. Farmer._




_Republican Manners._--A gentleman, who lately visited the Atheneum
at Boston, told us, that he saw a book there, on the title page of
which was written these words, by the hand of Mr. Jefferson--

  "_From Thomas Jefferson to his friend
  John Adams._"

Now, to my way of thinking, all the flowers of rhetoric might be
culled, and yet be wanting of the "sublime and beautiful" that
irresistibly attaches itself to this little sentence--"Thomas
Jefferson to his friend John Adams." It affords a practical result
of our glorious system of government, more "precious than rubies."
It is a diamond of the finest water, which the republican should hug
to his bosom as a rich legacy to his children and his children's
children "to the thousandth generation"--an evidence in favour of
the simplicity of the truth never to be parted with, while the
mighty Mississippi rolls her floods to the ocean! It is worthy of
the best days of Greek or Roman history; and there is, doubtless,
a sincerity in it that Greece or Rome hardly knew to exist between
men so illustrious. The time has passed away in which either of
those venerable men can be regarded as at the head of a party in
the state, however much they were once opposed. They are preparing
"for another and a better world;" but, like the patriarchs of old,
with joyous hearts, survey the rich fruits of independence, planted
by their toil and nurtured by their care. Passion has long ceased
to influence either; oblivion has passed over their political
differences of opinion; ancient friendships are renewed, and a
spirit of harmony and reciprocal esteem prevails in each bosom.

What a magnificent sentence--"from Thomas Jefferson to his friend
John Adams!" Let us consider how great a space those men have filled
in the world. Each has been the rallying point of simultaneously
contending parties--each filled the highest office in the gift of
the only free people existing, to relieve the sombre despotism of
the civilized world.--Each has lived to see his early vows to the
republic fulfilled; and their present good understanding affords us
a delightful proof of the inestimable aphorism, that "a difference
of opinion is not a difference of principle."

What are now John Adams and Thomas Jefferson, so recently
the leading politicians of the day, the heads of mighty
parties?--private citizens, wholly abstracted from the bustle of
the times, and leaning on their good intentions, like Jacob on his
staff, to offer up thanksgivings to the Most High for the benefits
which He has been pleased to bestow upon their beloved country!
Neither holds a court, or is courted with sinister views; for it is
well understood that both have retired from the influence that might
have attached itself to them;--but the trace of their footsteps are
as blessed by a grateful people, and a good old age has come upon
them in peace!

May we imitate the plainness and sincerity of this little sentence!
What could ten thousand high-sounding titles add to the reputation,
or contribute to the internal satisfaction of these sages? Yet
we practise them and there are hundreds of little things among
us, creatures of the moment--here to-day and gone to-morrow,
and forgotten, who feel insulted if they are not called of men
_honourable_, written at full length, as if the title made them so.
I believe I never wrote this word, as prefixed to a man's name, but
once, and think that, while I preserve my reason and sense of moral
_honesty_, I never will write it again, to a fellow citizen.

It would not do any _harm_ if there was much more of this
magnificent simplicity at the seat of government, where comfort
is often sacrificed to form, and chilling etiquette keeps back
from those in office the very persons that they ought to have
familiar communication with. It is the yeomanry of the country,
who are to carry to the chiefs of the government, the feelings
and wishes of the nation: but they are frozen by the ceremony of
their introduction to men in power--congressmen and others. It is
hateful even to some who _seemingly_ exact it--because _it is "the
rule."_ Why not abrogate the rule, and while impertinent intrusion
is kept at a distance, receive honest worth on the level, as man
should receive man? A little anecdote, which I have recently heard,
may illustrate this remark--a certain gentleman, who now is a
quaker, or at least conforms to many of their manners, a veteran of
the revolution, and one of Mr. Monroe's earliest friends, having
business at Washington, was specially sent for by the president,
who had not seen him for more than forty years. The old man went to
the president's house; he was met in the hall by the servants, who
separately asked him for his cane, his coat, and his hat. The latter
he would not part with, and it was intimated to him that he could
not go into the president's room unless he dispossessed himself of
it; but he observed, 'if he couldn't go in, he could go out,' and
began to prepare for his departure. Then it was said, he might go in
with his hat on, if he was willing in risk it! He was willing, and
entered, and was received by the president as a true friend ought to
be received; and they had a very interesting interview, grateful to
one another. How much pleasure was nearly denied to Mr. Monroe for a
matter of form!--for, if the sturdy old republican had once left the
house, they never could have prevailed upon him to enter it again!

All _mere_ ceremonies are easy, and even in matters of the highest
import, become mechanical to those accustomed to perform them
daily--but are always irksome to those who never went through
them--nor do they form any part of our habits of thinking and
acting, as conformable to the nature of our institutions. I am
apprehensive that they are on the increase, though well convinced
that they are not desired by the president himself, and others
that I could name. But they are _fashionable_; and it is easier
to correct a positive vice than to do away an idle fashion. This
fashion keeps no one from the presence of influential persons who
has sinister designs to accomplish, but checks the warm flow of the
blood with which an honest farmer or mechanic would meet his own
elected rulers, and prevents that freedom of discussion by which
truth is manifested. Let us all endeavour to imitate the simplicity
and frankness of Jefferson--under this solemn assurance, that the
further we are removed from this plainness, the greater is the
danger of despotism. I am very far from being an enemy to what
are called the elegancies of life, and am quite willing that, if
a couple of dancing masters meet, they should bow to each other,
"according to rule," for half an hour before they approached near
enough to touch the tip of each other's finger, as the _sign_ of
shaking hands! Let those enjoy it who can, and practice it who
may--but it is not the _manner_ in which sincerity is shown, or good
fellowship promoted. The homage of the heart, such as the republican
will feel in reading the _text_ of this article, is worth more than
all the forms of etiquette ever devised. It is as a rock in the
midst of the sea--faction assails it in vain; it is _principle_ only
that takes effect upon it. The tide of popularity may rise and fall,
but the foundation is not to be shaken.

  [_Niles' Reg._




_On the Importance of Manner._


To exasperate is not the way to convince: nor does asperity of
language or of manner necessarily belong to the duty of plain
dealing. So far otherwise, a scolding preacher, or a snarling
reprover, betrays alike a gross ignorance of the philosophy of the
human mind, and the absence of Christian meekness; and how zealous
soever be his aim to do good, the provokingness of his manner will
defeat the benevolence of his intentions.

The following remarks are from the pen of a man as distinguished
for Christian piety as for superiour genius--the immortal Cowper.
"No man" (says that _evangelical_ poet) "was ever scolded out of
his sins. The heart, corrupt as it is, and because it is so, grows
angry if it be not treated with some management and good manners,
and scolds again. A surly mastiff will bear perhaps to be stroked,
though he will growl under that operation, but if you touch him
roughly, he will bite. There is no grace that the spirit of self can
counterfeit with more success than that of zeal. A man thinks he is
fighting for Christ, when he is fighting for his own notions. He
thinks that he is skillfully searching the hearts of others, when he
is only gratifying the malignity of his own, and charitably supposes
his hearers destitute of all grace, that he may shine the more in
his own eyes by comparison."

Nor is scolding, or ridicule either, the proper way to cure men
of their religious prejudices: for, by inflaming their anger, it
renders their prejudices the more stubborn and inveterate. It is no
matter how absurd or even how monstrous their errors and prejudices;
if you offend them by the grossness of your manner, there is little
hope of your convincing them afterwards by the cogency of your
reasoning.

The Baptist Missionaries in India, at the first insulted, as we
are told, the superstition which they attacked, and ridiculed and
reviled the Bramins in the streets, and at their festivals, when the
passions of the blinded and besotted populace were most likely to be
influenced. But experience taught those pious and apostolical men,
that this was not the right way to make converts: for which reason,
in 1805, they made a declaration of the great principles upon which
they thought it their duty to act. "It is necessary," say they,
"in our intercourse with the Hindoos, that, as far as we are able,
we abstain from those things which would increase their prejudices
against the gospel. Those parts of English manners which are most
offensive to them should be kept out of sight; nor is it advisable
at once to attack their prejudices, by exhibiting with acrimony, the
sins of their gods; neither should we do violence to their images,
nor interrupt their worship."

Now if this forbearance from every thing provoking, whether in
language or manner, was expedient in dealing with the errors of
the grossly idolatrous pagans, it is assuredly not less expedient
for fellow Christians, in their treatment of the real or supposed
religious errors of one another. Bitter revilings and contumelious
denouncements always provoke, but never convince. If they are used
instead of argument, they betray a conscious weakness; for it is
much easier to revile and denounce than to argue. And furthermore,
we are quite as apt to be furiously in the wrong, as to be furiously
in the right: or even if we know ourselves to be right as to matter,
we put ourselves in the wrong as to manner, if we make use of foul
weapons rather than those which the armoury of reason supplies.

_Manner_ is to be carefully studied by every one, whether in a
public or a private station, who undertakes to reclaim the vicious,
or to convince the erring: for what would be beneficial if done in
one manner, would be worse than labour lost, if done in another.
A haughty, supercilious manner never wins, seldom convinces,
and always disgusts; whereas that which indicates meekness and
unmingled benevolence and compassion, rarely fails of some salutary
impression; especially if suavity of manner be accompanied with
force of reasoning, and a due regard be had to time, place, and
circumstances.

No very long while ago, Mr. ----, an American clergyman, as
distinguished for pious zeal as for eminent parts, was passing a
river in a ferry boat, along with company of some distinction, among
which was a military officer who repeatedly made use of profane
language: Mr. ---- continued silent till they had landed, when
taking him aside, he expostulated with him in such a moving manner,
that the officer expressed his thanks, and his deep sorrow for the
offence; but added withal: "_Sir, if you had reproved me before the
company, I should have drawn my sword upon you._"

There are some who glory in it, that by their plain dealing they
wound the pride of those they deal with. Peradventure with greater
pride they do it. Often, we are so little aware of the obliquities
of our own hearts, that we may be feeding and nourishing pride
within ourselves whilst we are zealously aiming our blows at the
pride of others. Our love of chiding, our coarse bluntness, which
we fondly term an honest plain heartedness, or a warmth of zeal,
may possibly spring from other motives than those of pure Christian
benevolence.




EXTRACT FROM WILKINSON'S MEMOIRS.

_Sentiments of an Old Soldier._


Let those parents who are now training their children for the
military profession, let those misguided patriots, who are
inculcating principles of education subversive of the foundations
of the republic, look at this picture of distress, taken from the
life of a youth in a strange land, far removed from friends and
relations, comingled with the dying and the dead, himself wounded,
helpless, and expiring with agony, and then should political
considerations fail of effect, I hope the feelings of affection, and
the obligations of humanity, may induce them to discountenance the
pursuits of war, and save their offspring from the seductions of
the plume and the sword, for the more solid and useful avocations
of civil life; by which alone peace and virtue, and the republic,
can be preserved and perpetuated. A dupe during my whole life,
to the prejudices I now reprobate, I speak from experience, and
discharge a conscientious duty, when I warn my country against
military enthusiasm, and the pride of arms; and against the arts and
intrigues by which the yeomanry, the palladium of the republic, are
depreciated, and standing armies and navies are encouraged. For what
would it avail the citizens of the United States, if in a political
frenzy, they should barter their rights and liberties for national
renown? And who would exchange the blessings of freedom, for the
repute of having eclipsed the whole human race in feats of valour
and deeds of arms? This is a serious question! It affects the vital
interests of every freeman; and the course of the government makes
it proper and necessary, that these states should pause and reflect,
before it be too late. We have escaped from one war with a crippled
constitution; the next will probably destroy it; therefore let the
motto of the state be--PEACE.




DR. FRANKLIN.

     _Extracts from a letter of Mr. Jefferson, dated December 4th,
     1818, respecting Dr. Franklin._


"Dr. Franklin had many political enemies, as every character must,
which, with decision enough to have opinions, has energy and talent
to give them effect on the feelings of the adversary opinion.
These enmities were chiefly in Pennsylvania and Massachusetts.
In the former they were merely of the proprietary party: in the
latter they did not commence till the revolution, and then sprung
chiefly from personal animosities, which spreading by little and
little, became at length of some extent. Dr. ---- was his principal
calumniator; a man of much malignity, who, besides enlisting his
whole family in the same hostility, was enabled, as the agent
of Massachusetts with the British government, to infuse it into
that state with considerable effect. Mr. Jay, Silas Deane, Mr.
Laurens, his colleagues also, ever maintained towards him unlimited
confidence and respect. That he would have waived the formal
recognition of our independence, I never heard on any authority
worthy notice. As to the fisheries, England was urgent to retain
them exclusively, France neutral, and I believe that had they been
ultimately made a _sine qua non_, our commissioners (Mr. Adams
excepted) would have relinquished them rather than have broken off
the treaty. To Mr. Adams' perseverance alone on that point, I have
always understood we were indebted for their reservation. As to
the charge of subservience to France, besides the evidence of his
friendly colleagues before named, two years of my own service with
him at Paris, daily visits, and the most friendly and confidential
conversations, convince me it had not a shadow of foundation. He
possessed the confidence of that government in the highest degree,
insomuch that it may truly be said that they were more under his
influence, than he under theirs. The fact is, that his temper was
so amiable and conciliatory, his conduct so rational, never urging
impossibilities, or even things unreasonably inconvenient to them;
in short, so moderate and attentive to their difficulties, as well
as our own, that what his enemies called subserviency, I saw was
only that reasonable disposition, which, sensible that advantages
are not all to be on one side, yielding what is just and liberal,
is the more certain of obtaining liberality and justice.--Mutual
confidence produces of course mutual influence, and this was all
which subsisted between Dr. Franklin and the government of France.

"I subjoin a few anecdotes of Dr. Franklin, within my own knowledge.

"Our revolutionary process, as is well known, commenced by
petitions, memorials, remonstrances, &c. from the old Congress.
These were followed by a non-importation agreement, as a pacific
instrument of coercion. While that was before us, and sundry
exceptions, as of arms, ammunition &c. were moved from different
quarters of the house, I was sitting by Dr. Franklin, and observed
to him that I thought we should except books: that we ought not to
exclude science, even coming from an enemy. He thought so too, and I
proposed the exception, which was agreed to. Soon after it occurred
that medicine should be excepted, and I suggested that also to the
doctor. 'As to that,' said he, 'I will tell you a story. When I was
in London, in such a year, there was a weekly club of physicians,
of which Sir John Pringle was president, and I was invited by my
friend Dr. Fothergill, to attend when convenient. Their rule was to
propose a thesis one week, and discuss it the next. I happened there
when the question to be considered was, Whether physicians had on
the whole, done most good or harm? The young members, particularly,
having discussed it very learnedly and eloquently till the subject
was exhausted, one of them observed to Sir John Pringle, that,
although it was not usual for the president to take part in a
debate, yet they were desirous to know his opinion on the question.
He said, they must first tell him whether, under the appellation
of physicians, they meant to include _old women_; if they did, he
thought they had done more good than harm; otherwise more harm than
good.'

"The Confederation of the States, while on the carpet before the old
Congress, was strenuously opposed by the smaller States, under the
apprehension that they would be swallowed up by the larger ones. We
were long engaged in the discussion; it produced great heats, much
ill humour, and intemperate declarations from some members. Dr.
Franklin at length brought the debate to a close with one of his
little apologues. He observed, that 'at the time of the union of
England and Scotland, the Duke of Argyle was most violently opposed
to that measure, and among other things predicted that, as the whale
had swallowed Jonas, so Scotland would be swallowed by England.
However,' said the doctor, 'when Lord Bute came into the government,
he soon brought into its administration so many of his countrymen,
that it was found, in the event, that Jonas swallowed the whale.'
This little story produced a general laugh, restored good humour,
and the article of difficulty was passed.

"When Dr. Franklin went to France on his revolutionary mission,
his eminence as a philosopher, his venerable appearance, and the
cause on which he was sent, rendered him extremely popular; for all
ranks and conditions of men there, entered warmly into the American
interest. He was therefore feasted and invited to all the court
parties. At these he sometimes met the old Duchess of Bourbon,
who being a chess-player of about his force, they very generally
played together. Happening once to put her king into _prise_, the
Doctor took it. 'Ah,' says she, 'we do not take kings so.' 'We do in
America,' said the doctor.

"At one of these parties, the Emperor Joseph II., then at Paris,
_incog._ under the title of Count Falkenstein, was overlooking
the game, in silence, while the company was engaged in animated
conversations on the American question. 'How happens it, M. Le
Comte,' said the Duchess 'that while we all feel so much interest in
the cause of the Americans, you say nothing for them?' 'I am a king
by trade,' said he.

"When the Declaration of Independence was under the consideration
of Congress, there were two or three unlucky expressions in it,
which gave offence to some members. The words 'Scotch and other
auxiliaries,' excited the ire of a gentleman or two of that
country. Severe strictures on the conduct of the British king, in
negativing our repeated repeals of the law which permitted the
importation of slaves, were disapproved by some southern gentlemen,
whose reflections were not yet matured to the full abhorrence of
that traffic. Although the offensive expressions were immediately
yielded, these gentlemen continued their depredations on other parts
of the instrument. I was sitting by Dr. Franklin, who perceived that
I was not insensible to those mutilations. 'I have made it a rule,'
said he, 'whenever in my power, to avoid becoming the draughtsman
of papers to be reviewed by a public body. I took my lesson from
an incident which I will relate to you. When I was a journeyman
printer, one of my companions, an apprentice hatter, having served
out his time, was about to open shop for himself. His first concern
was to have a handsome sign-board, with a proper inscription. He
composed it in these words:--'John Thompson, _Hatter_, _makes_ and
_sells hats for ready money_,' with a figure of a hat subjoined.
But he thought he would submit it to his friends for their
amendments. The first he showed it to, thought the word '_hatter_'
tautologous, because followed by the words 'makes hats,' which shew
he was a hatter. It was struck out. The next observed that the word
'_makes_' might as well be omitted, because his customers would not
care who made the hats; if good and to their mind, they would buy,
by whomsoever made. He struck it out. A third said, he thought the
words '_for ready money_,' were useless, as it was not the custom
of the place to sell on credit: every one who purchased expected to
pay. They were parted with, and the inscription now stood, 'John
Thompson sells hats.' '_Sells_ hats?' says his next friend; 'why
nobody will expect you to give them away. What then is the use of
that word?' It was stricken out, and '_hats_' followed it, the
rather, as there was one painted on the board; so his inscription
was reduced ultimately to 'John Thompson,' with the figure of a hat
subjoined.'

"The Doctor told me, at Paris, the following anecdote of the Abbé
Raynal.--He had a party to dine with him one day, at Passy, of whom
one half were Americans, the other half French; among the last
was the Abbé. During the dinner he got on his favourite theory of
the degeneracy of animals, and even of man, in America, and urged
it with his usual eloquence. The Doctor at length noticing the
accidental stature and position of his guests, at table, 'Come,'
said he, 'M. l'Abbé, let us try this question by the fact before us.
We are here one half Americans, and one half French; and it happens
that the Americans have placed themselves on one side of the table,
and our French friends are on the other. Let both parties rise,
and we will see on which side nature has degenerated.' It happened
that his American guests were Carmichael, Harmer, Humphreys, and
others of the finest stature and form; while those of the other side
were remarkably diminutive, and the Abbé himself, particularly, was
a mere shrimp. He parried the appeal however, by a complimentary
admission of exceptions, among which the Doctor himself was a
conspicuous one."




_An Act for the Appraisement of Estates taken in execution._


SECT. 1. _Be it enacted by the Senate and House of Representatives
of the commonwealth of Pennsylvania in general assembly met, and it
is hereby enacted by the authority of the same_, That in all cases
where lands, tenements or hereditaments, have been or hereafter
shall be levied on, by virtue of any writ of _fieri facias_ or other
writ of execution, and an inquest of twelve men summoned by the
sheriff or coroner of any of the cities or counties agreeably to
the existing laws of this commonwealth, shall find that the rents,
issue, and profits of such property, are not sufficient, beyond all
reprises, within the space of seven years to satisfy the damages
and costs or the debt, interest and cost in such writ mentioned, it
shall be the duty of the same inquest to value and appraise the said
property. And in all cases where the defendant or defendants shall
consent to a condemnation agreeable to an act entitled "a supplement
to the act, entitled, An act for taking lands in execution for the
payment of debts," passed on the sixth day of March, one thousand
eight hundred and twenty, and in any case where an inquisition
and condemnation of such estate as aforesaid shall not be deemed
necessary in law, it shall be the duty of the sheriff or coroner of
the proper county to summon an inquest of twelve good and lawful men
of his bailiwick, who shall be under oath or affirmation, and shall
receive the same pay as jurors are entitled to in similar cases, to
value and appraise the same; and the sheriff or coroner shall make
return of such valuation or appraisement, with the writ aforesaid,
to the court from which the same issued, and which valuation or
appraisement shall be conclusive in any future execution which may
be levied on the same property; and in case any writ of _venditioni
exponas_ or other writ shall issue for the sale of said lands,
tenements or hereditaments, and the same cannot be sold at public
vendue or outcry for two-thirds or more of such valuation or
appraisement: that then and in such case the sheriff or coroner
shall not make sale of the premises, but shall make return of the
same accordingly to the court from which the execution process
issued, and that thereupon all further proceedings for the sale of
such lands, tenements or hereditaments, shall be stayed for one year
from and after the return day of the _venditioni exponas_, or other
writ for the sale of the premises: _Provided_, That the sheriff or
coroner, shall not be entitled to poundage unless in those cases
where a sale of the property shall take place.

SECT. 2. _And be it further enacted by the authority aforesaid_,
That in all cases where lands, tenements or hereditaments, have
been heretofore levied on and condemned in virtue of any writ of
_fieri facias_, and in all cases where any lands, tenements or
hereditaments, have been or hereafter shall be seized or levied on
by virtue of any writ of _levari facias_, it shall be the duty of
the sheriff or coroner, before exposing the said property to sale
pursuant to any writ for that purpose issued, or in pursuance of
such writ of _levari facias_, to summon twelve good and lawful men
of his bailiwick, who, being first sworn or affirmed, shall make a
true valuation or appraisement of the property aforesaid, and the
same proceedings shall be had as is directed by the first section of
this act.

SECT. 3. _And be it further enacted by the authority aforesaid_,
That in all cases where a life estate, or for a term of years, in
any lands, tenements, or hereditaments, have been or shall be seized
and levied on by virtue of any writ of execution, it shall be the
duty of the sheriff or coroner, before he shall proceed to advertise
and sell the premises aforesaid, to summon an inquest of twelve
good and lawful men of his bailiwick, who, being first duly sworn
or affirmed, shall make a true valuation and appraisement of the
same. And if such life estate, or for term of years as aforesaid,
after having been advertised and offered for sale by public vendue
or outcry, according to the laws of this commonwealth, cannot be
sold for two thirds or more of the amount of the valuation and
appraisement aforesaid, the sheriff or coroner shall make return
accordingly; and thereupon all further proceedings for the sale of
the said premises shall be stayed for one year from the return day
of the said execution process.

SECT. 4. _And be it further enacted by the authority aforesaid_,
That in all cases where personal property shall be taken in
execution by virtue of any writ of _fieri facias_ issued out of any
court of common pleas in this commonwealth, or by virtue of any
execution issued by a justice of the peace, it shall be the duty
of the sheriff, coroner, constable or other person, to whom such
writ shall be directed, respectively, when it shall be requested by
the debtor, to summon three respectable freeholders or citizens of
the vicinage, who, being first duly sworn or affirmed by the said
officer, shall value and appraise the personal property aforesaid,
for which service they each shall be entitled to receive fifty cents
per day; which valuation or appraisement, signed by the appraisers,
together with a schedule of the property taken in execution, shall
be annexed to the return of said writ. And in case said personal
property, or any part thereof, cannot be sold for two thirds of
the amount of said valuation or appraisement, at a public vendue
of the same, of which notice shall be given to the plaintiff or
plaintiffs, his, her or their agent or attorney, agreeably to the
direction of the first section of this act, that then the sale of
such property shall be stayed for the term of twelve months from
that date: _Provided_, That the said defendant or defendants shall
execute and deliver to the sheriff, coroner or constable, as the
case may be, a bond, with one or more sufficient sureties, in a
penalty double the amount of the said valuation or appraisement,
conditioned for the faithful forthcoming and delivery of all and
every part of the said personal property, upon the expiration of the
said stay of execution, to the proper sheriff, coroner or constable,
or his successor in office, in like good order and condition as when
the same was so as aforesaid offered for sale, or other personal
property equal in value and like good order, to be ascertained in
the manner aforesaid; or in default thereof, for the payment of the
amount of the appraisement or valuation, with interest and costs,
or the amount of the debt, interest and cost, for which the levy
was made. And upon the execution and delivery of such bond, the
said personal property shall be returned and redelivered into the
possession of the said defendant or defendants: _Provided also_,
That nothing in this act contained, shall be construed to prevent
any judgment creditor or creditors from having the property of any
debtor or debtors exposed to sale, in the usual manner, at any time,
and as often as he, she or they may think proper, after it may have
once been exposed to sale as aforesaid, by paying all the costs
which may accrue in consequence thereof, except the time which a
sale may be effected, which cost shall be paid out of the proceeds
of the sale as in other cases.

SECT. 5. _And be it further enacted by the authority aforesaid_,
That this act shall be and continue in force for the term of one
year and no longer.




MORTGAGES.


     The Legislature of Pennsylvania, at their late session, passed
     the following act relative to Mortgages.

SECT. 1. _Be it enacted by the Senate and House of Representatives
of the commonwealth of Pennsylvania, in general assembly met, and
it is hereby enacted by the authority of the same_, That from and
after the first day of October next, all mortgages, or defeasible
deeds in the nature of mortgages, made or to be made or executed
for any lands, tenements or hereditaments within this commonwealth,
shall have a priority according to the date of recording the same,
without regard to the time of making or executing such deeds. And
it shall be the duty of the recorder to endorse the time upon the
mortgages or defeasible deeds when left for record, and to number
the same according to the time they are left for record, and if
two or more are left upon the same day, they shall have priority
according to the time they are left at the office for record. And
that no mortgage, or defeasible deed in the nature of a mortgage,
shall be a lien until such mortgage or defeasible deed shall have
been recorded, or left for record as aforesaid. _Provided_, That no
mortgage given for the purchase money of the land so mortgaged shall
be affected by the passage of this act, if the same be recorded
within sixty days from the execution thereof.

SECT. 2. _And be it further enacted by the authority aforesaid_,
That the governor be, and he is hereby requested to cause this act
to be published immediately after the passage of the same, in such
newspapers and for such a length of time as he may think most proper
for the information of the citizens of this commonwealth.




_Whimsical conflict._--It would be well for society, if all
duellists were to find themselves in the same predicament as did
the celebrated poet, Dr. Akenside, and a gentleman of the bar by
the name of Ballow. A challenge had passed from the former--but
they did not get into the field; for one would not consent to
fight in the morning, and the other was equally determined not to
do so in the evening! The one wished to fall in a blaze of glory,
mingled with the brilliant rays of the rising sun, a very fanciful
and poetic notion; and the other, with perhaps an equal degree of
poetic feeling and imagination, thought the shades of eve more
congenial with the work of death and the hour of dissolution.
Whether serious or affected, the difference was perhaps a happy
one for the lovers of literature, who might otherwise have lost
the keen and inexpressible delight which ever flows from the
perusal of Akenside's Pleasures of Imagination--a work which will
charm and instruct mankind through every age, so long as learning,
taste, and genius, shall have a votary or a favourite to relish so
rich a banquet. The hand of blood, that had deprived the republic
of letters of that incomparable poem, would have well deserved
everlasting execration.

  [_Plough Boy._




LAW-SUIT.


The longest law-suit ever heard of in England, or perhaps in the
world, was between the heirs of Sir T. Talbot; Viscount Lisle,
on the one part, and the heirs of Lord Berkeley on the other,
respecting certain possessions not far from Wotton-under-Edge, in
the county of Gloucester. The suit was commenced at the end of
Edward IV. and was depending till the reign of James I. when a
compromise took place, it having lasted above a hundred and twenty
years.




THE CAMERONIANS.

From Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Nov. 1819.


For the Cameronians, those relicks of the stern enthusiastic
Covenanters--those resolute maintainers of the unblemished purity
and rights of the reformed church--those dwellers on the misty
mountain tops--I entertain the greatest respect and reverence. It
was my lot to pass the early part of my life in the neighbourhood of
their hill of worship--often in the company of their leading men,
and most admired professors--and at all times in the society of a
portion of their number. They had hovered for many years about the
mountainous regions of the parish of Kirkmahoe, in Dumfries-shire;
and as they began to confide in the kindness of their less rigid
brethren, they commenced descending, step by step, from a large
hill to a less, till they finally _swarmed_ on a small sterile
mount, with a broomy glen at its foot, beside a little village,
which one of their number named "Graceless Quarrelwood." Quarrelwood
is a long straggling village, built in open hostility to regular
lines, or the graceful curves of imaginary beauty. The cottages
which compose it are scattered as if some wizard had dropt them
down by random; and through the whole a streamlet winds, and a
kind of road infinitely more crooked than the stream. This lane is
fringed chiefly by old plum-trees, and seeks its way to the eastern
extremity of the village, with a difficulty which a stranger will
soon be sensible of, should he be so hardy as to endeavour to
thread this Cameronian labyrinth. There is also a wide wilderness
of gardens, hemmed in by strong walls of rough free-stone. It is a
very defensible position; and, in case of retreat, the deep channels
of two scanty streams present direct openings to the upland holds;
and these are covered ways--for the brooks contrive to maintain
as many stately trees and flourishing bushes on their steep and
impassable banks, as would do honour to mightier streams. To this
rural encampment several hundreds resorted weekly to hear their
pastor's instructions; and at their great midsummer Festival of the
Sacrament, several thousands usually assembled, many of them from
distant parts, even from Fife and Banff. All around were objects to
cherish their ancient spirit, and remind them of other days. The
seat of their bitter persecutor, General Dalzell, was within two
short miles--the grave of the cruel Laird of Lagg was visible from
their mount; and in the church-yard of Dumfries, in the moors of
Irongray, and the moorlands of Nithsdale, were buried, under broad
and inscribed stones, some of the most renowned of the martyrs. With
two of their preachers I had the pleasure of being acquainted; and I
have also heard several of the western professors preach during the
continuance of the sacramental holydays. Of their professors I shall
endeavour to render some account. I still remember, with reverence,
the thin long snowy hair and bald shining crown, and primitive look
of the patriarchal Farely; and it is impossible I should ever forget
the familiar and fervent eloquence of that delightful old pastor.
Towards the close of his life, which was unusually long, he was
accused of cheering his decaying spirits with other beverage than
what cold brooks afforded. Of this infirmity I have heard some of
the sternest of his flock speak with unlooked-for gentleness; and I
believe none of his fellow-preachers chose to rebuke him for this
indulgence, from a just dread of his powers for keen dry sarcasm. He
was a great favourite with the Cameronian ladies, old and young, and
his reputation with them was not at all diminished, by the renown he
acquired by his ability in inflicting the discipline of his sect on
fair trespassers.

Of John Curtis, the regular pastor of the flock, I do not remember
so much as I do of Mr. Farely. He was a man unaffectedly pious,
rather than eloquent, and was deservedly and warmly beloved. He
adorned his discourses with that melodious tone which some call the
Cameronian drawl, and which the pious Cowper complained of in the
Conventicles. Each sentence has a kind of starting note; and I can
discover remains of this old puritanical fashion in the eloquence of
Wilberforce and also Lord Milton. It would require some constraint
in a pious stranger to listen, without an inward smile at least,
to this continually recurring chorus.--With a gifted preacher it
is less ungraceful, for he contrives to make it tell in better
time than an ordinary man--still it might be spared; but a very
sensible divine told me, he dared as soon renounce predestination
as part with the "twang;" it was as dear to his flock as the memory
of Richard Cameron. John Curtis, for he abominated the prelatical
designation of "Master," was not an unfrequent, or unwelcome guest
at my father's house. His coming was a visitation, for it came over
our mirth as a cloud. He invariably was invited on week days; Sunday
was a day that had higher duties. His coming was the signal for
seven children, I was one of them, to cease their play and pranks,
and mix trembling with their mirth. We became as quiet as a brood
of chickens, over which the hawk is hovering. Even the nuts or
raisins which filled the pockets of this primitive person, and which
he divided among us with many a clap on the head and benediction,
failed to inspire confidence.

The chief revolution in the affairs of the Cameronians of
Dumfriesshire, was effected at the death of John Curtis. They had
been driven by persecution to preach on the mountains, and though
persecution had ceased, on the mountains they remained. It was
certainly a beautiful and impressive sight to see a congregation
worshipping God on a mountain side or a wild glen; to see the
upright pulpit-rows of bared, and white, and bald heads decently
ranged around--and more extended ranks of beautiful women and
active men drawn up in a regular confusion--the whole listening
to the eloquence of my old friend Farely. This, with a clear day
and a bright sun, must make an impression of devotion on the most
obtuse intellect. But as the mason said of the wise man who sung,
"Snow is beautiful in its season," "My certes," said he, "it was
easy for him, with his lasses and his wine to sing so; had he been
a poor free-stone mason, he would have sung another sang." For
the weather seemed sometimes to inherit the rancour of the bloody
Claverhouse, or the renowned chieftain of Lagg, to this persecuted
race; and, instead of June giving one of her brightest and balmmiest
days for the Sacrament, I have witnessed the heavy rain come down
sans intermission for four stricken hours, as if ambitious to
measure its mercies by the length of the "Action Sermon." By some
this circumstance was hailed as a divine acknowledgment of their
presence and influence; and after some very dry weather I have
heard Mr. Farely turn a timely thunder shower to good account, by
apostrophizing the Deity for his kindness to "this dry barren land."
On another occasion--the morning was serene during the introductory
discourse, and just as my friend Farely began to administer the
sacrament, a huge black cloud sailed from the westward, and hung
heavy and ominous over the congregation. Ere the ladies could raise
their plaids, it descended perpendicular plump down, and the huge
drops splashed off the bald crown of the preacher, in a manner that
Kemble would have envied in acting King Lear. A Cameronian with an
umbrella, at that time an unusual thing in the country, arose and
stretched it over the Professor's head, regardless of himself. At
this visible interposition between him and heaven, the preacher
was wroth, and said audibly, "Take the Pope's cap off me," and his
conduct was highly applauded.

To such a congregation, after the decease of John Curtis, my friend
of the umbrella made a proposition to have a chapel erected. And
I question much if a proposal to go to mass would have excited
a stronger commotion--particularly among those whom the measure
meant to protect--the old and infirm. He of the umbrella offered
to subscribe largely himself, and promote the subscription among
others, hinting that many of the members of the kirk favoured the
cause, and would be glad of an opportunity to display it. The
motion was well timed too, namely, at the close of one of those
four-hours benedictions from a thunder cloud, which had urged
its way through the broad bonnets and thick plaids of the most
obstinate believers. I cannot enumerate to you all the bitter and
brief exclamations of dismay and indignation which this proposal
excited. The decided wrath of one old moorland dame I shall long
remember, "Foul fall ye," said she, starting up and hurling her
heavy clasped black print Bible at the proposer's head, "foul fall
ye, ye deserve to be brained with the word ye hae abused;" and had
he of the umbrella not caught this religious missile, as the Curtal
fryar's dogs caught the outlaw's arrows, namely, as it flew, he
might have been numbered with the martyrs. "Shall _we_," said she,
"who were hounded like deer to the mountains, there to worship God
in fear of evil men, shall _we_, whom he marvellously protected
there, doubt his providence, and descend to keep yer coupled
timber--yer covered cushions--and yer canopied, fringed, and painted
prelatical pulpits--and yer walls of hewn stane--far frae me--fit
places are they, not for the word, but for ye ken what;"--and so
she sat down. The more sensible part reflecting, however, that
the showers of spring were cold--that the winds of autumn were
not always gentle--and that winter indulged them with various and
dubious blessings, under the resemblance of snows and sleets, and
sudden thaws, resolved, that the erection of a house of worship was
a justifiable measure; and a house was accordingly built. But the
eloquent dame of the moorlands introduced a salvo, by which the
sacrament was directed to be administered in the open air, and so it
still continues.

The religious festival of the sacrament is commenced after due
private preparation by prayers of unwonted length, and the lonely
broomy hollow where it is held, exhibits on Sabbath morn to a
stranger a grand and solemn spectacle.

The last time I was present at this meeting I was invited to
breakfast at the house of a respectable and recently converted
member of the "Broken Remnant," a warm-hearted weaver, a man of
rare conversation--ready wit, and cutting dry sarcasm. He was also
as much celebrated for his poetry as the unrivalled productions of
his loom. His birds-eye, his barley-pickle, his lowland plaiden,
and fine linen, were the theme of praise among the young maids in
danger of being married--and to their praise I add mine. I have
proved his hospitality, and proved the labours of his loom. I sat
down to an ample breakfast with this Cameronian worthy--his wife
lively always, and once handsome--his two sons, inheriting their
father's powers even to overflowing, and a solemn browed Cameronian
from the borders of the moorlands. This family auxiliary undertook
to pronounce a blessing on our good cheer; a serious trial of my
patience and appetite. I endured his sermon for many minutes; it
was in its nature controversial. He touched on the adventure at
Drumclog, and addressed Providence in strong and familiar term
anent the disaster at Bothwell Brig. I looked piteous but resigned,
and the good housewife poured forth the tea. But then there came
headings and hangings, and finings and confinings, and sad travels
and sore tortures. The goodwife placed a plate of smoking savoury
cake before him, but he was not to be tempted; he threw a passing
curse or two on patronage, still he was distant from our day
half a century at least. I looked with an imploring eye, and my
entertainer closed his; but I could see by the sarcastic curl at
the corners of his mouth that he was inwardly enjoying my misery.
Once I stretched my hand, for I had half a mind, like the renowned
and impatient good man of Drumbreg, on a time of similar trial, to
seize my cup with a cry of "Ye have done brawly man," and cut short
all explanation by falling to. I endured it to an end however,
and an excellent breakfast enabled me to endure the infliction of
a "return thanks," eminently curious and controversial. We then
sallied forth to the preaching--the pastor had already commenced; it
might be half past 9 o'clock. I was struck with the magnitude and
repose of the congregation. Besides the sodded seats which held the
oldest and most respectable members, the broom then, I think, in
full bloom, with all its perfume about it, was bent down for many
acres to form rural seats to Cameronian dames, and dames indeed of
all persuasions.--There were many dressed in the latest fashion; the
old simple mode of dress however prevailed. Though all shewed deep
symptoms of devotion, and many of awe, the young women by no means
confined their eyes, and many had bright ones, to the contemplation
of the preacher. This festival always attracts an immense
multitude, and though the Cameronians are the only communicants,
all sects and denominations of Presbyterians crowd to the place,
and occupy the vacant ground. I saw many of the Cameronians with
whom I had a personal acquaintance, and a silent squeeze of the
hand, or an acknowledgment, an austere one, of the eye, was all
the recognition to be obtained. The list of offences and sects
excluded from communication is extensive and curious--they call it
"debarring"--Socinians, Arminians, Unitarians, Episcopalians, false
teachers, promiscuous dancers, and playhouse frequenters. I cannot
inflict the whole of this tremendous catalogue upon you. One prudent
and warning exclusion I cannot omit to mention, namely, that of all
wives who disobey their husbands.

In the green hedge-row lane, leading to the tent of the preacher,
various stalls were established by persons who thought--as godliness
was great gain, great gain was godliness. Here refreshments of all
kinds, particularly liquid consolation, abounded, and one tent,
rivalling in dimensions the tabernacle of the preacher, looked
presumptuously down from the very crest of the hill on its more
devout neighbour below. Here the owner of a neighbouring public
house had established himself, and into this canvass mansion, in a
moment of weakness, I was tempted to enter. I had sundry reasons
for this piece of backsliding;--first, I had become wearied with
the unexampled length and tediousness of the before-mentioned
four hour's sermon; secondly, I was desirous to partake of either
Ram-Jam, Mid-Row, or Pinkie, three denominations of ale, for which
the landlord was become deservedly famous, and in the brewing of
which, weak nerves, as well as a good head, had been doubtlessly
consulted--and; thirdly and lastly, a dark-eyed damsel from the
mountains wished for my private opinion anent the sinfulness of
dancing, and to instruct me in a near road over the hills to her
father's house, which stood in a remote glen on the stream of Ae.
While deeply employed in taking a chart of this desart path, I
could not avoid remarking with what particular gravity all were
drinking, and many getting drunk. Consolation had been poured forth
in no stinted tide, for a huge wall of empty vessels flanked the
entrance. The proprietor of this house of call for the thirsty, was
a ruddy carroty-headed rustic, who had contrived to draw down his
cheeks for the occasion, in a manner unusually solemn. He sat apart
busied, or apparently busied, with that chief of all sage books, the
Young Man's Best Companion; while his daughter, as active a girl as
ever chalked a score to a thirsty man, managed the business. But
his mind had wandered into a long and studious calculation of the
probable profit in his fermentations, and the Book, which was only
put there as a decoy to the godly, was neglected. I contrived to
withdraw it unperceived from before him, and for this feat I was
rewarded by a grim smile from a broad bonneted son of Cameron, and a
snuff from a tuphorn with a silver lid.

On returning to the meeting, the stars were beginning to glimmer,
amongst the thin mist of the summer evening, and I could see
groupes, already at some distance, of the spectators retiring
home. Far differently demeaned themselves the pious remnant. They
crowded round their preacher's tent after the repose of a brief
intermission, and I left them enjoying a mysterious lecture on
Permission, Predestination, Free Grace, The Elect, and Effectual
Calling.

I am now, and I say it with sorrow, far removed from the society
of those exemplary and pious people; and I heard, I confess, with
something of an old Cameronian spirit and regret, that a proposition
has been made to remove the meeting house into the neighbouring town
of Dumfries. Of my old favourites, few I understand survive, and
year after year lessens the number of those devout men who regularly
passed my father's window on the Sabbath morn. Mr. Farely has
long since been numbered with the blessed--and Jean Robson, a very
singular and devout character, has also rested from her labour of
instructing the youth of the Cameronians. She taught the writer of
this imperfect account to read--the Bible, and the famed Prophecies
of Alexander Peden. She tore the leaf from the Bible which said,
"James, by the Grace of God, Defender of the Faith," and denounced
the name of _Sunday_ as Popish, or what was worse, Prelatical, and
caused us all to call it the Sabbath. She died 83 years old. She
used to flog her scholars, and exclaim,--"Thou art an evil one--a
worker of iniquity," while the tawse and tongue kept time and told
sharply.

The Cameronians make few converts--few people are fond of inflicting
on themselves willingly the penance of controversial prayers and
interminable sermons. There is a falling off in the amount of the
flock.--My friend, the weaver, became a convert from conviction.
Another of the converts joined the cause in the decline of life,
not without suspicion of discontent, because his gifts had been
overlooked by the minister of the parish kirk, in a recent
nomination of elders. He was fond of argument, and seemed not
unwilling to admit the potent auxiliaries of sword and gun on behalf
of the cause. On one occasion, he grew wroth with the ready wit of a
neighbouring peasant, on the great litigated point of patronage--and
seizing the readiest weapon of his wrath, a hazel hoop--for he was
a cooper--exclaimed, "Reviler--retire--else I'll make your head
saft with this rung." On another time, he became exasperated at the
irreverent termination of an epigram on a tippling blacksmith, which
was attributed to Burns, who then resided within sight--at Elisland.

                On the last day,
    When sober men to judgment rise,
      Go drunken dog, lie still incog.
    And dinna stir if ye be wise.

The honest Covenanter, after three days and three nights meditation,
brought forth his expostulation with the mighty bard of Caledonia.
It commenced thus--

    Robert Burns ye were nae wise
    To gie to Rodds sic an advice.

It has lost all its attraction since the voice of its author is
mute, for who can repeat it as he did--the pithy preliminary
remarks on the great poet's morals--the short Cameronian cough--the
melodious trail of the tongue--and the frequent intrusion of
explanatory notes, which the uninspired could not always distinguish
from the poem itself, all these things are departed and passed
away, and the verses sleep as quietly as the dust of the poet. Two
other occasional converts scarcely deserve notice--one of them was
saved from thorough conviction by the well-timed exaltation to a
neighbouring precentorship, and the other has returned to his seat
in the kirk, since the dark-eyed daughter of an adjacent Cameronian
gave her hand, and it was a white one, to one of the chosen who was
laird of an acre of peat-moss--and I have not heard of any other
damsel of the covenant having caused him to relapse.




SHEPHERD'S DOG.

(From the London Sportsman's Cabinet.)


This dog is the most timid, obedient, placid, serene and grateful
in the creation. He seems studiously conscious of the purposes
for which he was formed, and is never so perceptibly gratified,
as when affording the most incessant proofs of his unsullied
integrity.--Instinctively prone to industry, he is alive to the
slightest sensation of his employer, and would rather double and
treble the watch line of circumspection, than be seen indulging
in a state of neglectful indolence.--The breed is propagated and
preserved with the greatest respect to purity in the northern parts
of the kingdom of England, as well as in the highlands of Scotland,
where, in the extensive tracts and uncultivated wilds, their
services exceed description.

Constitutionally calm, patient, and philosophic, the sheep dog seems
totally lost to every appearance of novelty, and insensible to every
attraction beyond the protection and indefatigable preservation of
the flock committed to his charge.--In the most sequestered and
remote spots, dreary wilds and lofty mountains, almost inaccessible
to man, this dog becomes an incredible and trusty substitute; for
once initiated in the ground-work of his office, he soon acquires
a perfect knowledge of the extent of his walk, as well as every
individual of his flock: and will as regularly select his own, and
disperse intruders, as the most faithful and attentive shepherd in
existence. This becomes the more extraordinary to the contemplative
mind, when it is recollected what immense flocks are seen to cover
the downy hills of Hants and Wilts, as far as the eye can reach,
without control; and to know that by a single signal from the
shepherd, this faithful, sagacious animal, replete with energy,
vigilance, and activity, will make his circle, so as to surround a
flock of hundreds, and bring them within any compass that may be
required.

The sheep dog is so completely absorbed in what seems to be the
sole business and employment of his life, that he does not bestow
a look, or indulge a wish, beyond the constant protection of the
trust reposed in him, and to execute the commands of his master;
which he is always incessantly anxious to receive, and in fact is
invariably looking for by every solicitous attention it is possible
to conceive.--Inured to all weathers, fatigue and hunger, he is the
least voracious of the species, subsists upon little, and may be
justly considered truly emblematic of content. Though there is the
appearance of a somniferous indolence in the exterior, it is by no
means a constitutional mark of habitual inability; on the contrary,
the sagacity, fidelity, and comprehensive penetration of this kind
of dog, is equal to any other, but that there is a thoughtful or
expressive gravity annexed to this particular race, as if they were
absolutely conscious of their own utility in business of importance,
and the value of the stock so confidently committed to their care.

Amidst the infinity of cases so constantly issuing from the press,
in which proofs almost incredible are authentically adduced of the
courage, sagacity, fidelity, gratitude, and self-denial of different
kinds of dogs, many are to be found appertaining to this particular
race; if they are not so numerous as some other sorts, it may be
fairly attributed to the little proportional chance they have (from
their remote and sequestered employment) of displaying those powers
in an equal degree with dogs more engaged in the bustle of human
society.

Dr. Anderson (in his translation from Dr. Pallas) introduces the
following instance of sagacity in a shepherd's dog, which he
considers truly astonishing; and it will create no surprise with
those who are in the least acquainted with their perfections.

"The owner himself having been hanged some years ago for sheep
stealing, the following fact, among others, respecting the dog, was
authenticated by evidence upon his trial. When the man intended to
steal any sheep, he did not do it himself, but detached his dog to
perform the business. With this view, under pretence of looking at
the sheep with an intention to purchase them, he went through the
flock with the dog at his feet, to whom he secretly gave a signal,
so as to let him know the individuals he wanted, to the number of
ten or twenty, out of a flock of some hundreds; he then went away,
and at a distance of several miles sent back the dog by himself
in the night time, who picked out the individual sheep that had
been pointed out to him, separated them from the flock, and drove
them before him by himself, till overtaking his master, to whom he
relinquished them."

The shepherd's dog rather shuns than seems anxious to obtain the
caresses of strangers, of whom he always appears to be shy and
suspicious; it being remarkable, that when refreshing upon a journey
with the flock, he seldom reposes but close to the feet or body
of his master; who well knows if he but deposits his coat or his
wallet, and gives the animal the accustomed signal; when the sheep
are at pasture, he may absent himself for hours, and at his return
find the whole as safe and regular as if it had been under his own
inspection. Although it is already observed, these dogs afford no
evident external proof of quick conception, or rapid execution
(except in all matters relative to the flock, to which their every
faculty appertains) yet their sagacity and fidelity is found equal
to every other branch of the species, when necessarily brought into
useful action.

"In the month of February, 1795, as Mr. Boulstead's son, of Great
Salkeld, in Cumberland, was attending the sheep of his father upon
Great Salkeld's common, he had the misfortune to fall and break
his leg.--He was then at the distance of three miles from home,
no chance of any person's coming, in so unfrequented a place,
within call, and evening very fast approaching: in this dreadful
dilemma, suffering extreme pain from the fracture, and laying upon
the damp ground at so dreary a season of the year, his agitated
spirit suggested to him the following expedient: Folding one of his
gloves in his pocket handkerchief, he fastened it round the neck of
the dog, and rather emphatically ordered him "home."--These dogs,
trained so admirably to orders and signals during their attendance
upon the flock, are well known to be under the most minute
subjection, and to execute the commands of their masters with an
alacrity scarcely to be conceived.

Perfectly convinced of some inexplicable disquietude from the
situation in which his master lay, he set off at a pace, which soon
brought him to the house, where he scratched with great violence
at the door for immediate admittance. This obtained, the parents
were in the utmost alarm and consternation at his appearance, but
more particularly when they had examined the handkerchief and its
contents. Instantly concluding beyond a doubt, that some accident
had befallen their son, they did not delay a moment going in
search of him; and the dog, apparently conscious the principal
part of his duty was yet to be performed, anxiously led the way
and conducted the agitated parents to the spot where their son lay
overwhelmed with pain, increased by the awful uncertainty of his
situation.--Happily this was effected just at the close of day, when
being immediately removed, and the necessary assistance procured,
he soon recovered, and was never more pleasingly engaged than when
reciting the sagacity and gratitude of his faithful follower, who
then became his constant companion."

       *       *       *       *       *

The instances of intelligence in the shepherd's dog are recorded
in all books treating of the manners and habits of the dog tribe.
One more may be mentioned from a recent publication. It is given
for the purpose of stimulating the American farmer to possess
himself of one of the breed as soon as possible.--Speaking of the
"Currack of Kildare," the author says, "The commonage is stocked
by a prescriptive proportion, attached to the adjacent farms:
every sheep owner has a particular raddled mark; the shepherd's
dogs are so trained, that if a sheep, with a strange mark, comes
on his master's front, the dog will single him out and worry him
off."--See Statistical Survey of the County of Kildare, by T. J.
Rawson, Dublin, 1807. p. 121.

  J. M.




_The new steam ship Robert Fulton._--This ship is intended to ply as
a regular packet between New York and New Orleans. She is said to
be, in every respect, one of the finest vessels ever built in that
city. A communication in the Gazette gives the following description
of this beautiful vessel:

"This ship is a splendid piece of naval architecture--the most
perfect model I ever beheld, and does great credit to her builder,
Mr. Eckford. She is upwards of 750 tons, of a very great length,
rigged with lug sails; has three kelsons, (the centre one large
enough for a ship of the line,) together with bilge ways, and the
whole secured and bolted in a very extraordinary manner, perhaps the
most so of any vessel ever built. Her frame timber and plank are
of live oak, locust, cedar, and southern pine, copper bolted and
coppered.

"She will afford accommodation for more than 200 persons, is fitted
up with high and airy state rooms, thoroughly ventilated by means of
sky lights the whole length of the cabin, which is very extensive.
Her after cabin is neatly arranged for the accommodation of ladies,
and separated by means of folding doors, in the modern style. She
has also a range of births fore and aft, together with a commodious
fore cabin. And what adds to the greatest comfort and security of
all, her engine and other machinery are completely insulated and
unconnected, as it were, with the other part of the ship. In the
centre, lengthwise, is a kind of well-hole, or square trunk, made
both fire and water proof; no possible accident, therefore, by the
bursting of the boiler, can reach either of the cabins. This trunk
or well-hole being enclosed by very thick plank, caulked and leaded,
may be inundated with water at pleasure, without any inconvenience
to the passengers.

"The furnace is also completely surrounded by the continuation of
the boiler, so that no part of the fire can ever come in contact
with the wood. There is a space of about 9 or 10 inches filled in
with materials, non-conductors of heat, which answer the double
purpose of excluding the heat from the cabin, and at the same time
deadening the disagreeable noise of the engine. She is also provided
with a leather hose, similar to those used by our fire engine
companies in this city, which will enable the hot or cold water to
be conveyed to any part of the ship, and furnishing at the same time
the great conveniency to the passengers of a warm or cold bath, at
pleasure. Her engine was constructed by Mr. Allaire, and is supposed
to be the most powerful and most exact piece of workmanship ever
turned out in this country; and her boiler is said to be the largest
ever known to have been made in this or any other country. Take her
all in all, she certainly presents a spectacle altogether _unique_."




MISCELLANY.


_Public Lands._--The highly important bill, for changing the mode
of disposing of Public Lands, so that hereafter they shall be
offered for sale in half quarter sections, the minimum price to be
one dollar and twenty-five cents, and all to be paid in cash, has
_passed both Houses of Congress_, by great majorities, and now wants
only the signature of the President to become a law.--This bill is
to take effect from the 1st of June next.

From a late London paper it appears, that a new and easy method has
lately been discovered, in England, of preventing the destruction of
the young turnip plants by the fly, and for which the discoverer was
rewarded with 200 guineas. It is merely to sow about 2 _lbs._ of
radish seed on every acre of turnip land, with the turnip seed; the
fly, preferring to feed on the radish plants, will, in such case,
leave the turnip plants unmolested.

One of the most effectual methods of preventing the ascent of
insects on fruit trees, in the spring, is to draw a streak of tar
round the body of the tree; but the surface of this soon becomes
incrusted by the warmth of the atmosphere, and then the insects are
enabled to pass this barrier. To remedy this, mix a proportion of
oil with the tar, which will prevent the hardening of the exterior
for a considerable length of time; and when the effects of the oil
are dissipated, let the exterior be again softened with oil.--This
plan is certainly one of the most efficacious for preventing insects
from ascending the bodies of fruit trees.

_The scab in sheep._--The shepherds, in Spain, cure this disease
with an ointment made of the trunk and roots of the juniper, by
breaking them in small pieces, and infusing them in water. The sheep
of this country are, however, but little liable to the scab.

It is a fact well ascertained, that when apple trees are in bloom,
if the _farina_ be gathered from the blossoms of a tree bearing
sour fruit, and scattered on those of a tree bearing sweet, the
apples produced from these blossoms will partake of the flavour of
both trees. In this way the flavour of fruit may be changed for the
better--a matter worthy of note, though perhaps not very profitable
in practice.

From Munich, Germany, we learn that Dr Vogel has announced the
important discovery, that sulphuric acid, diluted with a certain
proportion of water, and then applied to saw dust, to old linen,
to paper, &c. will change these substances into gum and saccharine
matter. M. Chaptal, somewhere in his book on chymistry, has ventured
to offer his opinion, very modestly however, that even the chemical
art of making gold (the great secret of the philosopher's stone)
will yet be discovered--that chymists will yet be convinced that
all matter is the same, only different modifications.

_Calculation of the Period of a Second Deluge._--According to the
calculations of the learned astronomer of Bremen, M. Olbers, after
a lapse of 83,000 years, a comet will approach to the earth in the
same proximity as the moon; after 4,000,000 years it will approach
to the distance of 7,700 geographical miles, and then, if its
attraction equals that of the earth, the waters of the ocean will be
elevated 13,000 feet, and a deluge will necessarily ensue! after a
lapse of 220,000,000 years, it will clash with the earth.

During the late inundation of the Rhine, a hare, dislodged by the
water took refuge in a tree. One of the boatmen who were traversing
the inundated country, in canoes, to pick up the sufferers, observed
the hare, steered for the tree, and without making his boat fast,
climbed hastily up to seize the poor animal. The hare perceiving his
danger, sprang from the tree into the boat, which was put in motion
by the leap of the hare, and floated down the stream, leaving the
boatman in his place upon the tree, in the disagreeable necessity of
watching the rise of the waters.

The Rhetorical Society at Cortryk, in the Netherlands, has lately
offered a gold, and a silver medal, as a prize for a poem of 100
lines, and an epitaph of 12 lines, upon Kotzebue.

From a London paper we have the following advertisement--A _new
species of man_. Among the wonders of nature none have exceeded this
extraordinary phenomenon--a man covered with scales, that rattle
at the touch, is now in exhibition at the public rooms, 23, Bond
Street. Physicians and natural philosophers will find an extensive
field open for their inquiries.

By another of a late date it appears, that in Dublin a _steam coach_
is advertised to commence running between that city and Belfast, on
the 1st Feb. and is to run from one city to the other, and return
every day. It is calculated to run at the rate of about 13 Irish
(equal to about 20 English) miles an hour. It is to carry the mail
between the two cities. It is calculated that it will be found a
safer mode of conveyance for passengers than carriages drawn by
horses. The whole weight of the carnage and apparatus is estimated
at about 4 tons.

_Fires._--A letter from St. Thomas, of the 2d March, mentions that
the whole city of Ponce, in Porto Rico, with the exception of one
church, was destroyed by fire on the 27th of the preceding month. On
the 1st of January last, a fire broke out at Smyrna, which consumed
1500 buildings. On the night of the 2d March, a spacious hotel in
Lexington, (Ken) was consumed--loss estimated at 40,000 dollars.

From Pittsburg, it appears that a part of the vast beds of coal
in the hills surrounding that place, has been on fire for about
25 years past; that the fire has, until lately, remained in a
smouldering state, but has at length got vent, and that during the
night it now exhibits the appearance of flame like a volcano. It
is apprehended that much of the valuable material of coal, in the
vicinity of that place, will probably be consumed before the fire
will become extinguished.

At Canton, the imports from the U. States, for the last season, are
stated at 7,414,000 dollars, in specie, and 2,693,011 dollars, in
merchandize; exceeding that of the English Company three or four
millions.

Congress have passed a law for taking another census of the United
States. The enumeration to commence on the first Monday of August
next, and to be completed in six months thereafter. Accounts of
manufacturing establishments, and of the numbers is employed
therein, are to be duly noted.

_A Check to Intemperance._--The select men in Bedford, (Mass.)
have posted up, at the tavern in the town, a list of the names of
persons notoriously addicted to drunkenness, and forbidden the sale
of liquor to them, under penalty of the laws of that state against
intemperate drinking.

The steam-boat Swift, rigged as a brig, is to depart from New York,
_for Rio de Janeiro_, on the 5th of May--is now advertising for
freight and passengers.

The grand jury of Putnam county, (Geo.) lately presented, as a
grievance existing there, (and probably not less there than in
many places elsewhere) the practice, indulged in by the bar of
villifying, without sufficient cause, the characters of suitors and
witnesses. They request the aid of the court in discountenancing
insolence of this kind.

From a late Petersburgh, (Va.) paper, we have the following account
of part of the remains of the formidable confederate tribes of
Indians, found in Virginia when Sir Walter Raleigh first ascended
St. James' river, at the head of which confederacy was Powhattan,
the father of the celebrated Pocahontas. These remains are a few of
the tribes of the Nottoways, to which tribe Powhattan belonged, the
Panunkies and a few of the Mattahonies. Of the Nottoways, says the
account, only 27 now remain, at the head of which is a woman, styled
their queen, of the name of Edie Turner, of the age of about 60, and
said to be quite intelligent, though illiterate. She is comfortably
situated in a cottage, with the necessaries of life about her, and
her share of the lands, (about 7000 acres, on Nottoway river,)
tolerably well cultivated. The language of her tribe is only spoken
by her and two others. It is said to be of Celtic origin, and as
harmonious and expressive as the Erse, Irish, or Welch.

_'Benefit of Clergy.'_--Paper was not made earlier than the
fourteenth century--and printing in the century following. The art
of reading made a very slow progress. To encourage it in England,
the capital punishment of death was remitted if the criminal could
read, which is termed 'Benefit of Clergy.' Yet so small an edition
of the Bible as 600 copies translated into English in the time of
Henry VIII. was not wholly sold off in three years.

_Nugæ Antiquæ._--Before A. D. 1545, ships of war in England had no
port-holes for guns; they had only a few cannon placed on the deck.

There is no mention of writing in the time of Homer. Ciphers,
invented in Hindoostan, were brought into France from Arabia about
the end of the tenth century.

_Respiration in Frogs._--It appears from a series of curious
experiments, performed by M. Edwards, that frogs, toads, and
lizards, are preserved alive and in health under water for weeks, by
means of the air contained in the water, which they abstract, not by
the lungs but by the skin.

_Chinese Alphabet._--The Chinese have 11,000 letters in use, and in
maters of science they employ 60,000, but their articulate sounds do
not exceed thirty.

_Method of rendering Glass less brittle._--Let the glass vessel
be put into a vessel of cold water, and let this water be heated
boiling hot, and then allowed to cool slowly of itself, without
taking out the glass. Glasses treated in this way may, while cold,
be suddenly filled with boiling hot water without any risk of their
cracking. The gentleman who communicates the method, says, that he
has often cooled such glasses to the temperature of 10°, and poured
boiling water in them without experiencing any inconvenience from
the suddenness of the change. If the glasses are to be exposed to a
higher temperature than that of boiling water, boil them in oil.




POULTRY.

From the European Magazine.


SIR--As the following account, together with the few observations
I have made on the management and feeding of fowls, may prove
acceptable, and afford some useful hints to many among the numerous
readers of your entertaining and widely-circulated miscellany, you
will oblige me by giving them a place in your work.

I procured two pullets of the black Spanish kind, which were
hatched in June, 1818, and fed them constantly myself twice a day,
alternating their food, that is, I gave them corn in the morning,
and in the afternoon boiled potatoes mixed with _fresh_ bran, but
I never allowed them to take a _full meal_ of corn. They had a
small orchard to range in, where, in the course of the day, they
occasionally picked up worms and other insects; and, I have observed
that poultry of all kinds eagerly seek for animal food even after
they have satiated themselves with corn: indeed, I conceive a
portion of animal food essentially requisite to preserve them in a
healthy state.

The above-mentioned pullets began to lay about the middle of
November, and continued to do so till within the last ten days,
when they began to moult their feathers, having produced _three
hundred and sixty-seven eggs much larger and finer than those of the
common fowl_. Seven eggs weigh 1 pound avoirdupois, so that I have
been furnished with the astonishing weight of more than 53 pounds
of nutritious and wholesome food from _two hens_. They were never
_broody_, nor shewed a disposition to sit at any time during the
whole season, and I understand this property is peculiar to this
species of fowl: it is, however, an advantage than otherwise, as the
common kinds can incubate their eggs, and foster their young.

  G. C. JENNER.

  _October 14th, 1819._




_Ancient Advice to Parents._

TEACH CHILDREN

  Obedience, }  and they shall  {bless thee.
  Modesty,   }                  {not be ashamed.
  Gratitude, }                  { receive benefits.
  Charity,   }                  {gain love.
  Temperance,}                  {have wealth.

  Prudence,  }        and       {Fortune will attend
                                {them.
  Justice,   }                  {they will be honoured
                                {by the world.

  Sincerity,   }                {own hearts will not
                                {reproach them.
  Diligence,   }    and their   {Wealth will increase.
  Benevolence, }                {Minds will be exalted.
  Science,     }                {Lives will be useful.
  Religion,    }                {Death will be happy.




_Comfortable Discovery._--"Laugh and grow fat" was the grand ancient
specific for long life--"every sigh and groan drove a nail into
our coffins," whilst a contrary excitation of the risible organs
drew one out.--Truly every generation groweth wiser, and we may
live to witness ocular proofs that pain is merely an alleviator of
indigestion, and the repudiation of a limb, under the doctor's saw,
a pleasant and exhilarating morning exercise; in short, what may we
not expect after reading the following:

A French surgeon has published a long dissertation on the beneficial
influence of groaning and crying on the nervous system. He contends
that groaning and crying are the two grand operations by which
nature allays anguish; and that he has uniformly observed, that
those patients who give way to their natural feelings, more speedily
recover from accidents and operations, than those who suppose that
it is unworthy a man to betray such symptoms of cowardice as either
to groan or to cry. He is always pleased by the crying and violent
roaring of a patient during the time he is undergoing a surgical
operation, because he is satisfied that he will thereby so sooth
his nervous system, as to prevent fever and ensure a favourable
termination.--From the benefit hysterical and other nervous patients
derive from crying or groaning, he supposes that "by these
processes of nature," the superabundant nervous power is exhausted,
and that the system is in consequence rendered calm, and even the
circulation of the blood diminished. He relates a case of a man,
who, by means of crying and bawling, reduced his pulse from 120
to 60 in the course of two hours. That some patients often have a
great satisfaction in groaning, and that hysterical patients often
experience great relief from crying, are facts which no person will
deny.

As to the restless hypochondriacal subjects, or those who are never
happy but when they are under some course of medical or dietetic
treatment, the French surgeon assures them that they cannot do
better than groan all night and cry all day. By following this rule,
and observing an abstemious diet, a person will effectually escape
disease, and may prolong life to an incredible extent.




_Oats 1000 years old._--In the highest point of a field, a mile
south from Forfar, Scotland, there was a druids' place of worship,
consisting of a circle of large stones, with one (the largest)
in the middle. The field was fallowed last year, and this temple
trenched, from which a very great quantity of stones were turned
up. Nothing particular, however, appeared, except a few bones that
went to dust. The field this year was sown with barley, and this
trenched part with the rest: so far as this trench extended, there
are considerable quantities of oats, of various kinds, sprung up
among the barley, the seeds of which must have remained there more
than 1000 years. Without the trenched ground there is not a head of
oats to be seen. Orders have been given to preserve these oat plants.




_State of the Rain Guage in Philadelphia._


  January,       1 inch 40-1/100
  February,      2      68
  March,         5      70

_Longevity._--In the parish of Acton, Middlesex, still exist the
lineal posterity of the famous Bishop Cranmer, who was burnt at the
stake by order of Queen Mary, nearly 300 years ago. One of them, an
old lady, named Whytell, has completed her 112th year, and retains
her intellectual and bodily faculties to a surprising extent.




_West's Painting._--The Earl of Egremont has purchased the
celebrated easel study of "_Death upon the Pale Horse_;" painted by
Mr. WEST; one of the most sublime productions of modern art.




MARRIED,


In Hebron, Connecticut, the celebrated LORENZO DOW, to Miss LUCY
DOALBEAR, of Montville.

At Harrisburg, Dr. PHINEAS JENKS, a member of the House of
Representatives, from Bucks County, to Miss AMELIA, only daughter of
the late governor Snyder.

_Deaf and Dumb Marriage._--Nov. 20, 1819, a singular marriage was
solemnized at Kirkheaton, near Huddersfield, between Joshua Barker
and Mary Moorehouse. The man being deaf and dumb, could not repeat
the necessary forms of the marriage ceremony; but this difficulty
was obviated in an ingenious manner; as he was able to read, the
book was presented to him, and he traced the words over with his
finger.




DIED,


On the 4th instant, in Tewksbury, near New Germantown, (N. J.)
FREDERICK PICKLE, aged 100 years. When he was 94 years of age, he
cut with a cradle 500 sheaves of rye in a day. At 97 he went into
the woods and split 100 chesnut rails in less than a day. He was
regular and temperate in his habits, and enjoyed good health until
within about a year before his death. His widow is 90, and they have
lived in the marriage state 70 years.




TIME.

    I saw him hasting on his way,
      And mark'd his lightning flight,
    Where'er he mov'd, there stern decay
      Spread its destructive blight.
    Rapid the gloomy phantom hied,
      Envelop'd in the storm--
    His eyes shone out in sullen pride,
      And fearful was his form.

    I saw him grasp the Warrior's wreath,
      Won in the gory fray--
    The laurel withering sunk in death,
      Its beauty fled away,
    That wreath was stained with bloody dew,
      Unhallowed was its bloom--
    It met the phantom's chilling view,
      And bow'd beneath its gloom.

    I saw him pass by Beauty's bower,
      And listen to her lay;
    Around the spot was many a flower
      Blooming its summer day;
    With icy heart the spectre came,
      Her lovely form compress'd;
    She met his lurid eye of flame--
      The tombstone tells the rest.

    On Youth's warm brow his hand he prest,
      'Twas cold as mouldering clay--
    He laid his hand on Manhood's breast,
      The life-pulse ceas'd to play.
    His fell siroc o'er Nature passed,
      And low she drooped her head--
    Her blossoms withered in the blast,
      And all her verdure fled.

  FLORIO.

  [_Hudson Whig._




WINTER EVENING'S AMUSEMENT FOR JANE AND ME.

    In summer days I till the ground,
      And tug and toil and get my bread--
    No interval can there be found,
      Between my labour and my bed,
        My wife declines to knit by night,
        And I to read by candle-light.

    But when the south receives the sun
      Beyond the equinoctial line--
    When all my summer work is done
      Substantial pleasures then are mine,
        Then Jane begins to knit at night,
        And I to read by candle-light.

    I'm then content, and never sigh,
      Nor fly from home some bliss to find;
    And Jane is pleased as well as I,
      It so completely feasts her mind,
        To sit her down to knit by night,
        And hear me read by candle-light.

    For when I read she always hears,
      And what she hears, she tries to scan;
    When ought to her obscure appears,
      Then I explain it if I can,
        O how she loves to knit by night
        And hear me read by candle-light!

    But when she drops a stitch, and gapes,
      Soon gapes again, and nods her head,
    I close my book, and say, perhaps
      'Tis time, my dear, to go to bed--
        So knit again to-morrow night,
        And hear me read by candle-light.

  [_Olive Branch._




YOUTH AND OLD AGE.

    Days of my youth! ye have glided away;
    Hairs of my youth! ye are frosted and gray;
    Eyes of my youth! your keen sight is no more
    Cheeks of my youth! ye are furrow'd all o'er;
    Strength of my youth! all your vigour is gone;
    Thoughts of my youth! your gay visions are flown.

    Days of my youth! I wish not your recal;
    Hairs of my youth! I'm content you should fall;
    Eyes of my youth! ye much evil have seen;
    Cheeks of my youth! bathed in tears have ye been;
    Strength of my youth! why lament your decay;
    Thoughts of my youth! ye have led me astray;

    Days of my age! ye will shortly be past;
    Pains of my age! yet awhile ye can last;
    Joys of my age! in true wisdom delight;
    Eyes of my age! be religion your light;
    Thoughts of my age! dread ye not the cold sod;
    Hopes of my age! be ye fixed on your God!




CURE FOR TROUBLE.

BY S. OSBORNE.

    Ben Brisk a philosopher was,
      In the genuine sense of the word;
    And he held that repining, whatever the cause,
      Was unmanly, and weak, and absurd.

    Tom Tipple, when trouble intruded,
      And his fortune and credit were sunk,
    By a too common error deluded,
      Drown'd trouble, and made himself drunk.

    But Ben had a way of his own,
      When grievances made him uneasy;
    He bade the blue devils begone!
      Brav'd trouble, and made himself--_Busy_.

    When sorrow imbitters our days,
      And poisons each source of enjoyment,
    The surest specific, he says,
      For trouble and grief, is--_Employment_.




LINES,

Inscribed to William Willtshire, Esq.

    Heaven's noblest attribute! a richer gem
    Than ever deck'd the monarch's diadem,
    Art thou sweet mercy! yet alas, how rare,
    Amid this world of crime, thy triumphs are!
    How dimly burns thy pure etherial fire!
    How seldom does its warmth the clay wrapt heart inspire!
    Yet, now and then, upon the path of time,
    It blazes forth with dazzling ray sublime;
    Sheds o'er this vale of tears it's heaven lit flame;
    And throws a halo round the human name.
    See! on the desert's verge, those wasted forms,
    Which life's expiring spark but feebly warms;
    Wore down by pain, toil, care, and wretchedness,
    And clad in squalid misery's abject dress:
    And mark the hectic flush, the broken sigh,
    And the wild glance that lights each sunken eye--
    The thrilling pulse of hope--the withering fear
    That checks the quick throb in its full career--
    The eager, half form'd question, and the start,
    As if the accents shook the bursting heart--
    "Oh! Heavens! and will he come, and shall we be
    Restor'd once more to life, and liberty?
    Or must we in our galling bonds remain?--
    But hush!--hark!--Lo a horseman on the plain!"
    'Tis he! he comes, he pities, succours, saves
    The captives from their chains, the dying from their graves.
    Thine, Willtshire, was the deed; and oh! to thee
    Is due the tribute of the brave and free!--
    Noble, and generous! round thy brow shall twine
    A fairer wreath, a laurel more divine,
    Than that which e'er the blood stain'd hero wore:
    Or science' sons in proudest moment wore.
    And when the sculptur'd bust, the burnish'd urn,
    The victor's trophies shall to dust return:
    When gone are all that wealth and power bestow;
    Thy fame, undimm'd, shall shine--thy worth shall brighter glow.

  N.

  [_N. Y. Evening Post._




ON INTEMPERANCE.

     ----"But, at last it biteth like a serpent, and stingeth like an
     adder."--Prov.


    O, Take the maddening bowl away!
      Remove the poisonous cup!
    My soul is sick--its burning ray
      Hath drunk my spirit up:
    Take--take it from my loathing lip
      Ere madness fires my brain;
    Take--take it hence! nor let me sip
      Its liquid death again.
    O dash it on the thirsty earth,
      For I will drink no more:
    It cannot cheer the heart with mirth
      That grief hath wounded sore;
    For serpents wreath its sparkling brim,
      And adders lurk below:
    It hath no soothing charms for him
      Who sinks oppress'd with wo.
    Say not, "Behold its ruddy hue--
      O press it to thy lips!"
    For 'tis more deadly than the dew
      That from the Upas drips;
    It is more poisonous than the stream
      Which deadly nightshade leaves:
    Its joys are transient as the beam
      That lights its ruddy waves.
    Say not "It hath a powerful spell
      To sooth the soul of care;"
    Say not, "It calms the bosom's swell
      And drives away despair!"
    Art thou its votary?--ask thy soul--
      Thy soul in misery deep--
    Yea, ask thy conscience if the bowl
      Can give _eternal sleep_!
    Then, hence, away! thou deadly foe
      Of happiness the whole;
    Away--away!--I feel thy blow,
      Thou _palsy_ of the soul!
    Henceforth I ask no more of thee,
      Thou bane of Adam's race,
    But to a heavenly fountain flee,
      And drink the _dews of grace_.




FOR THE RURAL MAGAZINE.

HOPE.

  For we have not a high priest who cannot be touched
  with the feeling of our infirmities: but was in all
  points tempted like as we are, yet without sin.

  Heb. iv. 15.


    When gathering clouds around I view,
    And days are dark, and friends are few,
    On him I lean, who, not in vain,
    Experienc'd every human pain,
    He sees my wants, allays my fears,
    And counts and treasures up my tears.

    If aught should tempt my soul to stray,
    From heavenly virtue's narrow way,
    To fly the good I would pursue,
    Or do the sin I would not do,
    Still he who felt temptation's power,
    Shall guard me in that dangerous hour.

    If wounded love my bosom swell,
    Deceiv'd by those I priz'd too well,
    He shall his pitying aid bestow,
    Who felt on earth severer wo;
    At once betrayed, denied, or fled,
    By all that shar'd his daily bread.

    When vexing thoughts within me rise,
    And, sore dismay'd my spirit dies,
    Yet he who once vouchsaf'd to bear,
    The sickening anguish of despair,
    Shall sweetly sooth; shall gently dry,
    The throbbing heart, the streaming eye.

    When sorrowing o'er some stone I bend,
    Which covers all that was a friend,
    And from his voice, his hand, his smile,
    Divides me--for a little while--
    Thou, Saviour see'st the tears I shed,
    For thou didst weep o'er Lazarus dead.

    And O, when I have safely past,
    Through every conflict--but the last,
    Still, still unchanging, watch beside,
    My painful bed--for thou hast died;
    Then point to realms of cloudless day,
    And wipe the latest tear away.

  A. B. C.




TO MY WIFE,

     _On the Anniversary of her Wedding-day which was also her
     Birth-day._

BY SAMUEL BISHOP.


    "Thee, Mary, with this ring I wed"--
    So, fourteen years ago, I said.--
    Behold another ring!--"for what?"
    "To wed thee o'er again?"--Why not?
      With that first ring I married youth,
    Grace, beauty, innocence, and truth;
    Taste long admir'd, sense long rever'd,
    And all my Molly then appear'd.
      If she, by merit since disclos'd,
    Prove twice the woman I suppos'd,
    I plead that double merit now,
    To justify a double vow.
      Here then to-day, (with faith as sure,
    With ardour as intense, as pure,
    As when, amidst the rites divine,
    I took thy troth, and plighted mine,)
    To thee, sweet girl, my second ring
    A token and a pledge I bring:
    With this I wed, till death us part,
    Thy riper virtues to my heart;
    Those virtues, which before untried
    The wife has added to the bride:
    Those virtues, whose progressive claim,
    Endearing wedlock's very name,
    My soul enjoys, my song approves,
    For Conscience' sake, as well as love's.
      And why?--They shew me every hour,
    Honour's high thought, Affection's power,
    Discretion's deed, sound Judgment's sentence,
    And teach me all things--but repentance.




THE ICELANDER'S SONG.

From a MS. Volume of Poems, by Mr. G. RATHBONE.


    The southern may talk of his meads crown'd with flow'rs,
      Where the gale, breathing incense, unceasingly flies;
    He may vaunt the rich hue of his rose-tangled bowers
      Or the sapphire and gold of his bright sunny skies;
    But it is not a theme that will light up emotion
      In an Icelander's breast; since his pride and his boast
    Are his hoar-cover'd mountains, that frown on the ocean,
      Lit up with the ice-blink that girdles the coast.

    When the winter of night darkles round him all dreary,
      And his snow-bosom'd hills mourn the absence of day,
    With a heart void of care, and with limbs seldom weary,
      He launches his bark in pursuit of his prey;
    Rough is his bed, and uneasy his pillow,
      When far off in ocean he rambles from home;
    Blithe scuds his boat, as her prow cleaves the billow
      Of the gem-spangled brine, with its ridges of foam.

    Dear is the dawn of the fork'd northern light,
      That illumines old Hecla's broad cone with its rays;
    And dearer its splendour, increasingly bright,
      When the peaks of the ice-bergs appear in the blaze:
    Brightly it plays on his dart's glossy pride,
      When it flies, steep'd in spray, on the snake's scaly crest,
    To bury its point in the whale's finny hide,
      Or flesh its curv'd barb in the sea-lion's chest.

    Dear is the summer of day, when the fountains,
      Unfetter'd and free, pour the bright crystal stream;
    Dear is the cataract's leap in the mountains,
      When sparkling at night in the moon's silver beam;
    Dear are the shoals where the sea-horse is bounding,
      With his icicled mane and his eyeballs of fire;
    But dearer than all, is the comfort surrounding
      The wife of his choice, and the hearth of his sire.




TO THE SNOW-DROP.

    Joyous Herald of the Spring,
      Pretty snow-drop, hail!
    With thee, modest trembler, bring
      Summer's balmy gale.

    Com'st to tell us Winter's fled?
      Bright informer, hail!
    Welcome guest, why hang thy head.
      Why thy cheek so pale?

    Dost thou droop thy head in wo,
      Poor glory of an hour?
    Since not the Summer's heat shall glow
      For thee, thou short-liv'd flow'r

    Thou art only come, alas!
      To tell us spring is near;
    Like a fleeting shade to pass,
      Droop, and disappear.

    Thus some son of Virtue may,
      Tread his bright career,
    Guide by mild Religion's ray,
      Erring Mortals here:

    Ere his Winter toils are done,
      Or Summer hopes arise,
    Sinks he, youth and vigour gone,
      Points to heav'n--and dies.--HELEN.

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