UCSB LIBRARY
 
 THE 
 
 FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 BY 
 
 JOHN HAYWARD, 
 
 AUTHOR OF THE NEW ENGLAND GAZETTEER, 
 &C . &C . 
 
 BOSTON: 
 WEEKS, JORDAN, AND COMPANY. 
 
 NEW YORK : TANNER AND DISTURNELL. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA : WILLIAM MARSHALL AND COMPANY. 
 
 BALTIMORE : CUSHING AND BROTHERS. 
 
 1840.
 
 For the Index to this work, see p. 821. 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1840, by 
 
 JOHN HAYWARD, 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 
 
 STEREOTYPED AT THE 
 BOSTON TYPE AND STEREOTYPE FOUNDRY.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 ALL we have to say by way of preface to our little 
 book, is that, with the exception of the Chronological 
 Sketch of Great Britain, some tables, and statistical 
 accounts, it is composed principally of selections and 
 quotations from works of acknowledged merit, most 
 of which, we are persuaded, will increase in value as 
 time advances ; and that, while we express our thanks 
 to those friends who have kindly assisted in its prep- 
 aration, we cannot but indulge the hope that the 
 VISITOR will become a welcome companion to many 
 families, by imparting some moral, pleasing, and use- 
 ful lessons. 
 
 February, 1840.
 
 OTICE 
 
 THE Editor of the NORTHERN REGISTER desires to inform his friends 
 and the public, that his best efforts are constantly exerted to procure 
 materials for that work ; and that, through the kindness of many friends 
 in New England, a large mass of information is already received ; but 
 still, the requisite materials are so exceedingly numerous and difficult 
 to be obtained, he is reluctantly compelled to say, that the work cannot 
 go to press until July, 1840. This delay in its publication will give to 
 agents, and to others, who may take an interest in the work, ample 
 time to collect and arrange their materials, and thus render the 
 REGISTER more valuable to the community. 
 
 O* See CIRCULAR, at the close of this volume. 
 
 * w * A number of intelligent and faithful Book Agents may obtain 
 constant employment, and a very liberal compensation, on personal 
 application to the Editor.
 
 THE 
 
 FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 ON CLOTHING. 
 
 A VERY striking fact, exhibited by the Bills of Mortality, is the 
 very large proportion of persons who die of consumption. It is not 
 our intention to enter into any general remarks upon the nature of 
 that fatal disease. In very many cases, the origin of a consumption 
 is an ordinary cold ; and that cold is frequently taken through the 
 want of a proper attention to clothing, particularly in females. We 
 shall, therefore, offer a few general remarks upon this subject, so 
 important to the health of all classes of persons. 
 
 Nothing is more necessary to a comfortable state of existence than 
 that the body should be kept in nearly a uniform temperature. 
 The Almighty wisdom, which made the senses serve as instruments 
 of pleasure for our gratification, and of pain for our protection, has 
 rendered the feelings arising from excess or deficiency of heat so 
 acute, that we instinctively seek shelter from the scorching heat and 
 freezing cold. We bathe our limbs in the cool stream, or clothe our 
 bodies with the warm fleece. We court the breeze, or carefully 
 avoid it. But no efforts to mitigate the injurious effects of heat or 
 cold would avail us, if nature had not furnished us, in common with 
 other animals, (in the peculiar functions of the skin and lungs,) with 
 a power of preserving the heat of the body uniform, under almost 
 every variety of temperature to which the atmosphere is liable. The 
 skin, by increase of the perspiration, carries off the excess of heat ; 
 the lungs, by decomposing the atmosphere, supply the loss ; so that 
 the internal parts of the body are preserved at a temperature of alnmt 
 ninety-eight degrees, under all circumstances. In addition to the 
 important share which the function of perspiration has in regulating 
 the heat of the body, it serves the further purpose of an outlet to the 
 constitution, by which it gets rid of matters that are no longer useful 
 in its economy.
 
 4 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 The excretory function of the skin is of such paramount impor- 
 tance to health, that we ought at all times to direct our attention to 
 the means of securing its being duly performed; for if the matters 
 that ought to be thrown out of the body by the pores of the skin are 
 retained, they invariably prove injurious. When speaking of the 
 excrementitious matter of the skin, we do not mean the sensible 
 moisture which is poured out in hot weather, or when the body is 
 heated by exercise ; but a matter which is too subtile for the senses to 
 take cognizance of which is continually passing off from every part 
 of the body, and which has been called the insensible perspiration. 
 This insensible perspiration is the true excretion of the skin. 
 
 A suppression of the insensible perspiration is a prevailing symp- 
 tom in almost all diseases. It is the sole cause of many fevers. Very 
 many chronic diseases have no other cause. In warm weather, and 
 particularly in hot climates, the functions of the skin being prodi- 
 giously increased, all the consequences of interrupting them are 
 proportionably dangerous. 
 
 Besides the function of perspiration, the skin has, in common with 
 every other surface of the body, a process, by means of appropriate 
 vessels, of absorbing or taking up, and conveying into the blood-ves- 
 sels, any thing that may be in contact with it ; it is also the part on 
 which the organ of feeling or touch is distributed. 
 
 The skin is supplied with glands, which provide an oily matter 
 that renders it impervious to water, and thus secures the evaporation 
 of the sensible perspiration. Were this oily matter deficient, the 
 skin would become sodden, as is the case when it has been removed 
 a fact to be observed in the hands of washerwomen, when it is 
 destroyed by the solvent powers of the soap. The hair serves as so 
 many capillary tubes to conduct the perspired fluid from the skin. 
 
 The three powers of the skin perspiration, absorption, and feel- 
 ing are so dependent on each other, that it is impossible for one to 
 be deranged without the other two being also disordered. For if a 
 man be exposed to a frosty atmosphere, in a state of inactivity, or 
 without sufficient clothing, till his limbs become stiff, and his skin 
 insensible, the vessels that excite the perspiration, and the absorbent 
 vessels, partake of the torpor that has seized on the nerves of feeling, 
 nor will they regain their lost activity till the sensibility be com- 
 pletely restored. The danger of suddenly attempting to restore sen- 
 sibility to frozen parts is well known. If the addition of warmth be 
 not very gradual, the vitality of the part will be destroyed. 
 
 This consideration of the functions of the skin will at once point 
 out the necessity of an especial attention, in a fickle climate, to the 
 subject of clothing. Every one's experience must have shown him 
 how extremely capricious the weather is in this country. Our expe- 
 rience of this great inconstancy in the temperature of the air ought 
 to have instructed us how to secure ourselves from its effects. 
 
 The chief end proposed by clothing ought to be protection from 
 the cold ; and it never can be too deeply impressed on the mind, 
 (especially of those who have the care of children,) that a degree of 
 cold that amounts to shivering cannot be felt, under arfy circum- 
 stances, without injury to the health ; and that the strongest consti-
 
 ON CLOTHING. 
 
 tution cannot resist the benumbing influence of a sensation of cold 
 constantly present, even though it be so moderate as not to occasion 
 immediate complaint, or to induce the sufferer to seek protection 
 from it This degree of cold often lays the foundation of the whole 
 host of chronic diseases, foremost among which are found scrofula 
 and consumption. 
 
 Persons engaged in sedentary employments must be almost con.- 
 stantly under the influence of this degree of cold, unless the apart- 
 ment in which they work is heated to a degree that subjects them, 
 on leaving it, to all the dangers of a sudden transition, as it were, 
 from summer to winter. The inactivity to which such persons are 
 condemned, by weakening the body, renders it incapable of main- 
 taining the degree of warmth necessary to comfort, without addi- 
 tional clothing or fire. Under such circumstances, a sufficient 
 quantity of cbthing of a proper quality, with the apartment mod- 
 erately warmed and well ventilated, ought to be preferred, for keep- 
 ing ui) the requisite degree of warmth, to any means of heating the 
 air of the room so much as to render any increase of clothing un- 
 necessary. To heat the air of an apartment much above the ordi- 
 nary temperature of the atmosphere, we must shut out the external 
 air; the air also becomes extremely rarefied and dry, which cir- 
 cumstances make it doubly dangerous to pass from it to the cold, 
 raw, external air. But in leaving a moderately well-warmed room, 
 if properly clothed, the change is not felt; and the full advantage of 
 exercise is derived from any opportunity of taking it that may occur. 
 
 The only kind of dress that can afford the protection required by 
 the changes of temperature to which high northern climates are lia- 
 ble, is woollen. Nor will it be of much avail that woollen be worn, 
 unless so much of it be worn, and it be so worn, as effectually to keep 
 out the cold. Those who would receive the advantage which the 
 wearing woollen is capable of affording, must wear it next the skin ; 
 for it is in this situation only that its health-preserving power can be 
 felt. The great advantages of JfooWen cloth are briefly these ; the 
 readiness with which it allows the escape of the matter of perspira- 
 tion through its texture its power of preserving the sensation of 
 warmth to the skin under all circumstances the difficulty there is 
 in making it thoroughly wet the slowness with which it conducts 
 heat the softness, lightness, and pliancy of its texture. 
 
 Cotton cloth, though it differs but little from linen, approaches 
 nearer to the nature of woollen, and on that account must be esteemed 
 as the next best substance of which clothing may be made. 
 
 Silk is the next in point of excellence ; but it is very inferior to 
 cotton in every respect. 
 
 Linen possesses the contrary of most of the properties enumerated 
 as excellences in woollen. It retains the matter of perspiration in 
 its texture, and speedily becomes imbued with it ; it gives an un- 
 pleasant sensation of cold to the skin ; k is very readily saturated 
 with moisture, and it conducts heat too rapidly. It is, indeed, the 
 worst of all tin- substances in use, being the least qualified to answer 
 the purposes of clothing. 
 
 There are several prevailing errors in the mode of adapting clothes 
 1 *
 
 6 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 to the figure of the body, particularly amongst females. Clothes 
 should be so made as to allow the body the full exercise of all its 
 motions. The neglect of this precaution is productive of more mis- 
 chief than is generally believed. The misery and suffering arising 
 from it begin while we are yet in the cradle. When they have 
 escaped from the nurse's hands, boys are left to nature. Girls have 
 for a while the same chance as boys in a freedom from bandages of 
 all kinds ; but as they approach to womanhood, they are again put 
 into trammels in the forms of stays. The bad consequences of the 
 pressure of stays are not immediately obvious, but they are not the 
 less certain on that account : the girl writhes arid twists to avoid the 
 pinching, which must necessarily attend the commencement of 
 wearing stays tightly laced ; the posture in which she finds ease is 
 the one in which she will constantly be, until at last she will not be 
 comfortable in any other, even when she is freed from the pressure 
 that originally obliged her to adopt it In this way most of the de- 
 formities to which young people are subject originate ; and, unfor- 
 tunately, it is not often that they are perceived until they have be- 
 come considerable, and have existed too long to admit of remedy. 
 From the Companion to the British Almanac. 
 
 ON VENTILATION. 
 
 FEW persons are aware how very necessary a thorough ventilation 
 is to the preservation of health. We preserve life without food for 
 a considerable time ; but keep us without air for a very few minutes, 
 ami we cease to exist. It is not enough that we have air we must 
 have fresh air ; for the principle by which life is supported is taken 
 from the air during the act of breathing. One fourth only of the 
 atmosphere is capable of supporting life ; the remainder serves to 
 dilute the pure vital air, and render it more fit to be respired. A full- 
 grown man takes into his lungs nearly a pint of air each time he 
 breathes ; and when at rest, he makes about twenty inspirations in a 
 minute. In the lungs, by an appropriate apparatus, the air is ex- 
 posed to the action of the blood, which changes its purer part, the 
 vital air, (oxygen gas,) into fixed air, (carbonic acid gas,) which is not 
 only unfit to support animal life, but is absolutely destructive of it. 
 An admirable provision of the great Author of nature is here visible, 
 to prevent this exhausted and now poisonous air from being breathed 
 a second time: while in the lungs, the air receives so much heat 
 as makes it sp 'cifically lighter than the pure atmosphere ; it conse- 
 quently rises above our heads during the short pause between throw- 
 ing out the breath and drawing it in again, and thus secures to us a 
 pure draught. By the care we take to shut out the external air from 
 our houses, we prevent the escape of the deteriorated air, and con- 
 demn ourselves to breathe again and again the same contaminated, 
 unrefreshing atmosphere.
 
 ON VENTILATION. 7 
 
 Who, that has ever felt the refreshing effects of the morping air, 
 can wonder at the lassitude and disease that follow the continued 
 breathing of the pestiferous atmosphere of crowded or ill- ventilated 
 apartments ? It is only necessary to observe the countenance of 
 those who inhabit close rooms and houses, the squalid hue of their 
 skins, then- sunken eyes, and their languid movements, to be sensi- 
 ble of the bad effects of shutting out the external air. 
 
 Besides the contamination of the air from being breathed, there 
 are other matters which tend to depreciate its purity ; these are the 
 effluvia constantly passing off from the surface of animal bodies, and 
 the combustion of candles and other burning substances. On going 
 into a bed-room in a morning, soon after the occupant has led his 
 bed, though he be in perfect health, and habitually cleanly in his 
 person, the sense of smelling never fails to be offended with the 
 odor of animal effluvia with which the atmosphere is charged. 
 There is another case, perhaps still more striking, when a person 
 fresh from the morning air enters a coach in which several persons 
 have been close-stowed during a long night. He who has once made 
 the experiment will never voluntarily repeat it. The simple expe- 
 dient of keeping down both windows but a single half-inch would 
 prevent many of the colds, and even fevers, which this injurious 
 mode of travelling often produces. If, under such circumstances, 
 the air is vitiated, how much more injuriously must its quality be 
 depreciated when several persons are confined to one room, where 
 there is an utter neglect of cleanliness; in which cooking, washing, 
 and all other domestic affairs are necessarily performed ; where the 
 windows are immovable, and the door is never opened but while 
 some one is passing through it ! 
 
 It may be taken as a wholesome general rule, that whatever pro- 
 duces a disagreeable impression on the sense of smelling is unfavor- 
 able to health. That sense was doubtless intended to guard us 
 against the dangers to which we are liable from vitiation of the at- 
 mosphere. If we have, by the same means, a high sense of gratifi- 
 cation from other objects, it ought to excite our admiration of the 
 beneficence of the Deity in thus making our senses serve the double 
 purpose of affording us pleasure and security ; for the latter end 
 might just as effectually have been answered by our being only sus- 
 ceptible of painful impressions. 
 
 To keep the atmosphere of our houses free from contamination, 
 it is not sufficient that we secure a frequent renewal of the air all 
 matters which can injure its purity must be carefully removed. 
 
 Flowers in water, and living plants in pots, greatly injure the purity 
 of the air during the night, by giving out large quantities of an air 
 (carbonic acid) similar to that which is separated from the lungs by 
 breathing, which, as before stated, is highly noxious. On tins ac- 
 count they never should be kept in bed-rooms ; there are instances 
 of persons, who have incautiously gone to sleep in a close room in 
 which there has been a large growing plant, having been found dead 
 in the morning, ai effectually suffocated as if there had been a char- 
 coal stove in the room. 
 
 A constant renewal of the air is absolutely necessary to its purity;
 
 8 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 for, in all situations, it is suffering either by its vital part being ab- 
 sorbed, or by impure vapors being disengaged and dispersed through 
 it. Ventilation, therefore, resolves itself into the securing a constant 
 supply of fresh air. 
 
 In the construction of houses, this great object has been too gen- 
 erally overlooked, when, by a little contrivance in the arrangement 
 of windows and doors, a current of air might, at any time, be made 
 to pervade every room of a house of any dimensions. Rooms can- 
 not be well ventilated that have no outlet for the air ; for this reason 
 there should be a chimney to every apartment. The windows should 
 be capable of being opened, and they should, if possible, be situated 
 on the side of the room opposite to, and furthest from, the fire-place, 
 that the air may traverse the whole space of the apartment in its 
 way to the chimney. 
 
 Fire-places in bed-rooms should not be stopped up with chimney- 
 boards. The windows should be thrown open, for some hours every 
 day, to carry off the animal effluvia which are necessarily separating 
 from the bed-clothes, and which should be assisted in their escape 
 by the bed being shaken up, and the clothes spread abroad, in which 
 state they should remain as long as possible ; this is the reverse of 
 the usual practice of making the bed, as it is called, in the morning, 
 and tucking it up close, as if with the determination of preventing 
 any purification from taking place. Attention to this direction, with 
 regard to airing the bed-clothes and bed after being slept in, is of 
 the greatest importance to persons of weak health. Instances have 
 been known in which restlessness and an inability to find refresh- 
 ment from sleep would come on in such individuals when the linen 
 of their beds had been unchanged for eight or ten days. In one case 
 of a gentleman of a very irritable habit, who suffered from excessive 
 perspiration during the night, and who had taken much medicine 
 without relief, he observed that, for two or three nights after he had 
 fresh sheets put upon his bed, he had no sweating ; and that, after 
 that time, he never awoke but that he was literally swimming, and 
 that the sweats seemed to increase with the length of time he slept 
 in the same sheets. 
 
 Various means are had recourse to at times, with the intention of 
 correcting disagreeable smells, and of purifying the air of sick-rooms. 
 Diffusing the vapor of vinegar through the air, by plunging a hot 
 poker into a vessel containing it ; burning aromatic vegetables, 
 smoking tobacco, and exploding gunpowder, are the means usually 
 employed. All these are useless. The explosion of gunpowder 
 may, indeed, do something, by displacing the air within the reach 
 of its influence ; but then, unfortunately, an air is produced by its 
 combustion, that is as offensive, and equally unfit to support lii'c, as 
 any air it can be used to remove. These expedients only serve to 
 disguise the really offensive condition of the atmosphere. The only 
 certain means of purifying the air of a chamber which is actually 
 occupied by a sick person, is by changing it in such a manner that 
 the patient shall not be directly exposed to the draughts or currents. 
 
 No fumigation will be of any avail in purifying stagnant air, or air 
 that has been breathed till it has been deprived of its vital part ;
 
 ON THE USE OF ANTHRACITE COAL. l> 
 
 such air must be driven out, when its place should be imniediately 
 supplied by the fresh, pure atmosphere. The readiest means of 
 changing the air of an apartment is, by lighting a fire in it, and then 
 throwing open the door and windows ; this will set the air in mo- 
 tion, by establishing a current up the chimney. The air which has 
 been altered by being breathed is essential to vegetable life ; and 
 plants, aided by the rays of the sun, have the power to absorb it, 
 while they themselves at the same time give out pure vital air. This 
 process, going on by day, the- reverse of that described before as 
 taking place during the night, is continually in operation, so that the 
 purification of the atmosphere can only be prevented by its being 
 preserved in a stagnant state. From the Companion to the British. 
 Almanac. 
 
 ON THE USE OF ANTHRACITE COAL. 
 
 [Abridged from OBSERVATIONS made by PROFESSOR OLMSTED, of Yale College, and 
 published in the American Almanac for 1837.] 
 
 THE community is, as yet, but imperfectly acquainted with the 
 proper management of anthracite coal. Many, during the first year 
 of trial, especially, fail to derive from it any of its peculiar advan- 
 tages, while they suffer many inconveniences not incident to ordinary 
 fires ; and they arrive at a knowledge of the convenience and luxury 
 of a well-constructed fire of anthracite coal, only after a long and 
 troublesome probation. 
 
 Anthracite coal, in order to its complete combustion, requires to be kept 
 constantly at a high temperature. The chief^impediment to the free 
 combustion of this fuel, is its cohesion. Combustion, it must be 
 recollected, arises from a chemical action between the fuel and air. 
 When a spark is communicated to charcoal, and a free current of 
 air is admitted to it, the porous structure and feeble cohesion of the 
 parts, offer little resistance to the action of the air ; but, when we 
 attempt the same process with anthracite coal, we perceive that its 
 compact structure, and firm cohesion, oppose the chemical combi- 
 nation of the air with the coal, and it is not until the strength of the 
 affinity is increased by raising the temperature very high, that the 
 combustion will proceed. And if an anthracite fire, while in full 
 operation, is by any cause cooled below a certain temperature, it 
 burns languidly, or goes entirely out. Therefore, to prevent its 
 cooling, the furnace, or chamber of combustion, must be lined with some 
 non-conductor of heat. Fire-bricks, pots of baked clay, and lutes of 
 similar composition, are of this kind; while cast-iron pots and stone 
 are good conductors, and therefore unsuitable for our purpose, be- 
 cause they have a tendency to cool the coal in contact with them. 
 A large fire will indeed burn in such furnaces without difficulty ; 
 but a steady, uniform, and mild heat, is sometimes required to suit 
 the different states of weather, and this cannot be easily maintained 
 unless the coal is surrounded with non-conductors, which effectu- 

 
 10 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 ally prevent too much of the heat from escaping directly from the 
 chamber of combustion. But when thus surrounded, then, by means 
 of dampers, which increase or diminish the draught at pleasure, we 
 may have a perfect control over our apparatus, and can raise or 
 lower the heat as suits the circumstances. 
 
 JVb air must pass into the pipe or chimney, but such as traverses 
 the fire. 
 
 This rule is essential, in a greater or less degree, in all sorts of 
 fires ; but it is peculiarly important in a fire of anthracite coal, on 
 account of the great resistance which air meets with, in its passage 
 through a thick bed of coal or coal ashes. If the air can find its 
 way freely to the rarefied space in the chimney, by some other 
 avenue, it will not force its way througli the fire against such an 
 impediment. The consequence will be, that the chimney will be- 
 come cold by the influx of cold air, and the fire will burn languidly, 
 or perhaps go out spontaneously. This effect is sometimes experi- 
 enced in open grates, during the coldest weather. The cold air 
 flowing into the chimney above the fire, cools the chimney so much 
 as to destroy the draught ; and if the blower is applied so as to direct 
 the current of air through the fire, the combustion will be rapid and 
 intense for a few minutes, until the finer and more fusible portions 
 of the coal are melted, and flow into the interstices, and stop the 
 free circulation of air through the fire, after which the fire, although 
 apparently intense, communicates but little heat to the apartment. 
 In a close stove, well regulated by dampers, this difficulty may be 
 , completely obviated; since here, all the air that is admitted into the 
 chimney may be such as has passed through the fire, and is of course 
 warm, while only so much air may be suffered to traverse the fire 
 as will keep the coal at a. full red heat, a temperature which it 
 ought never to exceed, since, if it rises to a white heat, the obstruction 
 arising from the fusion of the finer parts will impede the circulation 
 of air through the fire, and the linings of the furnace will be liable 
 to injury. 
 
 Whenever the exterior surface of a stove approaches to redness, 
 the first bad effect is to contaminate the air. It acquires a burnt, dis- 
 agreeable odor, which is not only unpleasant but unwholesome. 
 The odor, however, arises not from the air itself, (which, at every 
 temperature, is devoid of odor,) but from the actual scorching or 
 combustion of particles of animal or vegetable matter that is always 
 floating in the air of an apartment, especially in a room where there 
 is a bed. In this case, the fine particles of down, on coming in con- 
 tact with a very hot surface, give the odor of burnt feathers. Persons 
 liable to the headache are most unpleasantly affected by such an air, 
 and it is especially unsuitable for a sleeping apartment, or for a sick 
 room, where the air ought always to be maintained of the utmost 
 purity. 
 
 A second bad effect arises from the excessive dryness thus imparted 
 to the air. As a volume of air is raised from a lower to a higher 
 temperature, it acquires dryness at an accelerated rate ; that is, an 
 increase of temperature from 80 to 90, for example, will increase 
 its dryness much more than the addition of 10 at a lower tempera-
 
 ON THE USE OF ANTHRACITE COAL. 11 
 
 ture, as from 50 to 60. At first view, it might seem a matter of no 
 consequence, in raising an apartment to a given temperature, as 70, 
 whether it were heated in one way or another, as the quality of the 
 air, in respect to dryness, would be the same in all cases. It makes, 
 however, a great difference, whether the elevation of temperature is 
 produced by a nearly uniform increase of heat throughout the room, 
 or by the circulation of currents of air highly heated, by previous 
 contact with a red-hot metallic surface. In the latter case, these 
 currents will circulate about the apartment for a long time, before 
 they find their equilibrium, and will be unfit for respiration, and in- 
 jurious to the wood-work of the room, and to the cabinet furniture. 
 
 It is a very common error, in the use of close stoves, to carry the 
 heat of family apartments too high. The proper temperature is 70 
 for the parlor, and 50, or at most 60, for sleeping-rooms. A heat- 
 ing apparatus must be imperfect, which does not afford the means, 
 by a skilful management, of preserving such a temperature in all 
 vicissitudes of weather. Whenever the temperature of a room ,is 
 raised above 70, the air begins to become too dry. This injures its 
 qualities for respiration, and endangers the safety of the furniture 
 and panel-work. Some endeavor to correct this evil by attaching 
 to the stove an evaporating dish of water ; but this precaution is un- 
 necessary, unless the temperature is elevated above 70. Up to this 
 point, the air is none too dry for salubrity. As a general fact, a dry 
 atmosphere is far more salubrious than a humid one. 
 
 The principles laid down by Professor Olmsted may be expressed 
 in a few short PRECEPTS. 
 
 I. The chamber of combustion, or furnace, must be lined with a 
 good non-conductor. 
 
 IL In connecting an anthracite stove to the chimney, all joints 
 must be dose, so as to afford no passage to the air except through the 
 furnace. 
 
 III. The temperature must not be raised higher than a full red 
 heat. 
 
 IV. Coal should in all cases be free from dust. 
 
 V. JVtrf coal is most suitable for producing a mild and uniform 
 heat, to be kept up for a long time. When a thick bed of it is used 
 at once, a strong draught is required. Coarse coal is adapted to the 
 coldest weather, and, in intermediate states of weather, the fire of a 
 stove may be built of coarse lumps below and fine above. 
 
 VI. When in full combustion, anthracite coal requires but a very 
 little air. 
 
 VII. No part of a stove or pipe should ever become red hot. 
 Vin. The proper temperature of family apartments, is 70 ; of 
 
 sleeping-rooms, from 50 to 60. 
 
 IX. In the distribution of heat, long horizontal pipes are, if possi- 
 ble, to be dispensed with. 
 
 X. Stoves and pipes should be effectually cleaned, and refitted 
 for another season, immediately after the time for Jires is over. During 
 the summer, they should be kept in a dry place.
 
 12 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 WET AND COLD FEET. 
 
 WHAT a crowd of painful recollections are conjured up in the 
 mind of a physician, of any age and experience, by the words wet 
 ftct ! The child which had been playing about, in the morning, in 
 all its infantile loveliness and vivacity, is seized at night with croup, 
 from wet feet, and in a day or two is a corpse. The youthful form 
 of female beauty, which a few months before gladdened the eyes 
 of eveiy beholder, is now wasting in slow, remediless decay. What 
 Was the origin of her malady? Wet feet. Let us hope that the 
 exposure was incurred in a visit of mercy to a helpless widow or 
 distressed orphan. Whence come the lingering disease, the pain 
 and suffering, of that fond mother ? Still the same response : get- 
 ting her feet wet, while providing suitable winter's clothing for her 
 children as if tenderness for her offspring justified her dispensing 
 with all the rules of prudence for herself. Thus we might continue 
 the melancholy list of diseases, at best harassing and alarming, 
 often fatal, to which the heedlessness of youth, the pride of man- 
 hood, or the avarice of old age, are voluntarily and causelessly ex- 
 posed by a neglect of one lesson of every day experience. 
 
 It needs no medical lore or labored reasoning to show the great 
 influence which impressions on the feet exert over the rest of the 
 body at large. The real martyrdom produced by tickling them, and 
 the cruel punishment of the bastinado, are sensible evidences of 
 their exquisite delicacy of feeling. Of this fact we have more 
 pleasurable experience in the glow diffused through the whole sys- 
 tem, when, chilled and shivering, we hold them for a while to the 
 fire ; or when, during the prevalence of the dog star, we immerse 
 them in cold water, to allay the heat which is then coursing through 
 our veins. Arejhe internal organs of the body a prey to wasting 
 inflammation, as in the hectic fever of consumption, there is, a sensa- 
 tion of burning heat in the feet. Is the body feeble, and the stomach 
 unable to perform its digestive functions, these parts are habitually 
 cold. In both health and disease there is a constant sympathy be- 
 tween the feet and the different organs of the body. Whatever be 
 the weak part, it suffers with unfailing certainty from the impres- 
 sions of cold and moisture on the feet. No matter whether the 
 tendency be to sick-headache, or sore throat, hoarseness and cough, 
 pain of the stomach, or rheumatism, or gout severally and all 
 they will be brought on by getting the feet wet, or at times even by 
 these parts being long chilled, from standing on cold ground or 
 pavement And who, it might be asked, are the chief victims to 
 such exposures? Not the traveller caught in the storm, or the 
 man of business, or even the day-laborer, who cannot always watch 
 the appearance of the clouds, and pick their steps with an especial 
 avoidance of a muddy soil, or wet streets. O no ! we must look 
 for the largest number of sufferers among the rich, the fair, and 
 the lovely of the land those who need only walk abroad when
 
 \VET AND COLD FEET. ^ 13 
 
 invited by the fair blue sky and shining sun, or who, if pleasure 
 calls at other seasons, have all the means of protection against 
 the elemental changes, which wealth can command of ingenuity 
 and labor. They it is who neglect suitable protection for their 
 feet, and brave the snow and rain with such a frail covering as 
 would make the strong man trembte for his own health, were he to 
 be equally daring. 
 
 At a season like the present, it would seem to be a matter of 
 gratulation, that shoes and boots can every where be obtained of 
 such materials as to preserve the feet dry and warm. Leather 
 of various kinds, firm, or pliable and soft, is at the shortest warning 
 made to assume every variety of shape and figure, called for by 
 convenience or fashion. But we mistake ; Fashion, that despotic, 
 destroyer of comfort, and too often a sworn foe to health, will not 
 allow the feet of a lady fair to be incased in leather. She must 
 wear, forsooth, cloth shoes, with a thin leather sole ; and even this 
 latter is barely conceded. A covering for the feet, never originally 
 intended to be seen beyond the chamber or the parlor, is that now 
 adopted for street parade and travel ; and they, Avhose cheeks we 
 would not that the winds of heaven should visit too roughly, brave 
 in prunello the extremes of cold and moisture, and offer themselves 
 as willing victims to all the sufferings of the shivering ague, catarrh, 
 and pains rheumatic. Tell them of a wiser course ; argue with 
 some on their duties, as mothers and as wives, to preserve their 
 health with others, as daughters of beauty, who are risking by 
 approaching disease the loss of their loveliness, and they will reply, 
 that they cannot wear those horrid large shoes that leather does 
 not fit so nicely on the feet, and that India rubber shoes are fright- 
 ful. They do not reflect that beauty consists in the fitness and 
 harmony oi" things, and that we cannot associate it with the ideas 
 of suffering and disease. The light drnpery so gracefully and ele- 
 gantly arranged as to exhibit, without obtruding her figure, is wor- 
 thy of all admiration in a Grecian nymph, under a Grecian sky, and 
 when its bearer is warmed by a southern sun. The muslin robe 
 of one of our beauties of the ball-room is tasteful and appropriate 
 when lights and music are additions to the scene ; but could we 
 preserve our admiration for the Grecian nymph or the modern 
 belle, if in these costumes they were seen walking the streets mid 
 sleet and wind ? Pity they would assuredly command ; but will a 
 female be content with the ofr'ering which any beggar is sure of 
 receiving ? We have gazed on the finest productions of the chisel 
 and die pencil we have studied beauty with the admiration of a 
 lover, and the purposes of an artist ; and we do assure our female 
 readers tliat, however much we may admire a small and finely- 
 tiimed foot when SITU tripping through the mazes of the dance, 
 \M- <-annofrlook upon it with a pleased eye, unprotected by suitable 
 covering in a winter's day. This covering is not prunello, or that 
 most flimsy stuff satirically called everlasting. 
 
 But how, conceding all the beauty claimed by its admirers to an 
 exhibition of small feet, in neat, tight shoes, can we receive this as a 
 substitute for clear complexion, brilliant lustre of the eye, and the-
 
 * 
 
 1.4 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 mild smile of content, all lost by repeated attacks of a cold, or the 
 coming on of dyspepsia and sick-headache, the consequences of wet 
 and cold feet? Journal of Health. 
 
 UNRIPE FRUITS. 
 
 When man praises the country at the expense of the city, and 
 contrasts civic with rural life, to the disadvantage of the former, he 
 but gives utterance to that love of nature and of natural beauties, 
 which is never entirely erased from his mind. But a person who 
 assumes for the one all virtue, real happiness, and health, and can see 
 nothing in the other but vice, misery, and disease, is evidently echoing 
 the dreams of poesy, not speaking from his own observation. A part 
 of this Arcadian reverie consists in praising the robust and vigorous 
 frame of the countryman and farmer, their disregard of all the usual 
 precautions of health, and the impunity with which they expose 
 themselves to the common causes of disease. We have ourselves 
 lived in the country, and associated with farmers and their families ; 
 and in the early part of our professional career had occasion to see 
 much of them; and we know full well, that a rural population, so 
 far from claiming exemption from disease, acknowledge and feel 
 sorely its withering influence. Catarrhs and rheumatisms in the 
 winter and spring months, bilious colic, inflammatory, bilious, and 
 remittent fevers, and intestinal diseases, in the summer and autumn, 
 are of frequent occurrence among them not from the nature of 
 their occupation, or laborious industry, though tins sometimes comes 
 in for a share, but from their neglect of common prudential maxims. 
 A man who works hard in the harvest field all day, and gets drunk 
 by night, or, even when sober, who throws himself down under a 
 tree, or on the grass, who drinks much cold water, or eats a hearty 
 supper of pie or cucumbers, will often be awaked in the night with 
 all the pains and horrors of bilious colic. As the season advances, 
 if he expose himself in the night to dampness and chill, after hard 
 labor in the sun duringthe day, or continue to indulge his appetite 
 ibr all kinds of fruits, or drinks fresh cider, he will be sei/ed with 
 remittent or intermittent fever, and the evils in their train. He has 
 not the iron frame that poets or city closet-writers would tain 
 attribute to him : he may be exempt from nervousness and h^ypo- 
 chondriasis, and many ailments so common in the city ; but, on 
 the other hand, he is more liable to inflammatory and violent 
 diseases, which, if not arrested, will speedily Kill. Indigestion is 
 not, however, by any means unknown to the country population : it 
 is generally brought on by excess in the use of gross food, and in- 
 dulgence in ardent spirits, orlermented liquors. The worst case of 
 gout we ever witnessed, was in a iiirmer a New York farmer, wbo 
 had acted on the belief, that lie could eat of every thing, including 
 liis sliced cucumbers.
 
 UNRIPE FRUITS. 15 
 
 
 
 As to the children in the country, they are, in greater proportion 
 than those in town, subject to worms and the concomitant disorders 
 of indigestion, indicated by a protuberant abdomen and sallow 
 visage : convulsions and brain fever will sometimes vary the scene. 
 These children suffer from the trashy fruit, illy-cooked vegetables, 
 and the cucumbers which they devour not so much as city chil- 
 dren would do, because they take more exercise, and do not loatl 
 their stomachs with such a variety of cakes and condiments as 
 i utter; but still, they do suffer seriously and dangerously, and 
 not seldom die by their thus making a free port of their stomachs. 
 
 It is very pretty to talk of fruits as the gifts of nature, which, as 
 meant for man's refreshment, cannot, we are told, be injurious. 
 But people ought to define what they mean by fruit. If it be the 
 matured production of a tree or shrub, in which the saccharine 
 matter is properly evolved and distributed through the pulpy matter, 
 which has itself lost its early tenacity; in other words, if it be ripe 
 fruit they mean, we can see no objection to moderate eating of it. 
 But if they libel the worship of Pomona to such a degree as to call 
 early green apples and pears little shrivelled peaches water 
 melons without a particle of saccharine juice in them plums as 
 hard as bullets fit offerings at her shrine, and suitable food for 
 either a rustic or civic population, why then we would condemn 
 these immature dietists to eat what they recommend. As well 
 might we insist on the consumption of darnel, because it grows 
 with nutritious grain, or of ergot, because it is part of the rye, as 
 talk of such vile trash as half the fruit which is hawked about being 
 fit food for any animals except swine ; and they will give many an 
 extra turn after a meal of it. 
 
 In fine, it may be safely affirmed, as a general principle in 
 dietetics, that no person, whether gentleman or clown, farmer or 
 townsman, miner or* sailor, woman or child, can eat with impunity, 
 much less with advantage, vegetable matters which have not been 
 softened and changed by culinary processes ; nor fruit which has 
 not acquired its ultimate degree of maturity in flavor and softness, 
 or which has not undergone a somewhat analogous change by the 
 action of fire, as in boiling, stewing, roasting, and the addition of 
 sutrar. The exceptions which might be alleged in favor of lettuce, 
 mil celery, are not to the point, since they are not used as 
 articles of nutriment, and are, at any rate, prone to disorder those per- 
 sons \\lio have weak digestions. And then again, be it remembered 
 that the eating of ripe fruit does not imply the necessity of swal- 
 lowing the skin and stone, or seed, as many are in the fashion of 
 doing. Certain it is, to say nothing of the labor to which the poor 
 stomach is put on the occasion, nature never intended those parts 
 of the fruit to be eaten; the one is an external covering for the pur- 
 
 of protecting the nutritious part proper the other for per- 
 petuating the plant. Journal of Htalth.
 
 16 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 * 
 
 ' 
 
 SLEEP. 
 
 The celebrated John Wesley, who paid every attention to the 
 best means of invigorating his body, in order that he might be ena- 
 bled to exert himself for the general benefit of his fellow-creatures, 
 to the utmost his corporeal and mental powers would allow, informs 
 us, that he had been accustomed to awake every night about 
 twelve or one o'clock, and lay without sleeping for some time : he, 
 therefore, very justly concluded, that this was caused by his lying 
 in bed longer than nature required. To be satisfied upon this point, 
 he procured an alarum, which awakened him next morning at seven, 
 nearly an hour earlier than his usual time of rising. He still lay 
 awake at night. The ensuing morning he rose at six ; but notwith- 
 standing this, he lay awake the second night. The third morning 
 he rose at five ; but, nevertheless, lay awake the third night. His 
 next hour of rising was at four, and lying no longer awake, he, for 
 a period of above sixty years, continued the same practice ; and, 
 taking the year round, never lay awake for a quarter of an hour at 
 u time, during a month. He justly adds, that by the same experi- 
 ment, rising earlier and earlier every morning, any person may dis- 
 cover how much sleep he really stands in need of. Mr. Wesley 
 was in the habit of going to bed at ten, so that by rising at four, he 
 had six hours uninterrupted sleep, which he considered to be suffi- 
 cient for his own health : he, however, very properly remarks, that 
 invalids, and persons of a delicate constitution, and those accus- 
 tomed to much bodily fatigue during the day, may require seven or 
 eight hours' sleep. 
 
 SLEEPLESSNESS. 
 
 "With regard to the treatment of sleeplessness, a very few words 
 will suffice : in fact, upon this head little more can be said, than a 
 recommendation to obviate the causes from whence it proceeds, 
 and the effects naturally disappear. We may mention, however, 
 that where there is no specific disease, either of body or mind, to 
 which the want of sleep can be imputed, the person should keep 
 himself in as cheerful a mood as possible that he should, if his 
 strength permits, rise early and take such exercise as to fatigue 
 himself moderately. Studious men ought to avoid late reading ; 
 and on going to bed endeavor to abstract their minds from all 
 intrusive ideas. They should strive to circumscribe their thoughts 
 within the naiTOwest possible circle, and prevent them from becom- 
 ing rambling or excursive. The more the mind is brought to turn 
 upon a single impression, the more closely it is made to approach 
 to the state of sleep, which is the total absence of all impressions. 

 
 THE DUTY OF ATTENTION TO HEALTH. 17 
 
 "hi some cases of restlessness, sleep may be procured by the per- 
 son getting up and walking for a few minutes about the room. It 
 is not easy to explain on what principle this acts, but it is certain 
 that by such means sleep sometimes follows, where previously it 
 had been solicited in vain. It is a common practice with some peo- 
 ple to read themselves into slumber, but dangerous accidents have 
 sometimes arisen from this habit, in consequence of the lighted 
 candle setting fire to the curtains (or covering) of the bed. A safer 
 and more effectual way is to get another person to read ; in which 
 ease sleep will very generally take place, especially if the subject in 
 question is not one of much interest, and read in a dry, monotonous 
 manner. When sleeplessness proceeds from the heat of the 
 weather, the person should lie very lightly covered, and let the air 
 circulate freely through his room. When it arises from a burning 
 in the soles or palms, these parts should be bathed with cold vinegar 
 and water, both before going to bed and during the existence of the 
 heat ; which usually occurs two or three hours after lying down. 
 Attention must also be paid to the stomach and bowels, as this 
 species of sleeplessness generally proceeds from a disordered state 
 of these organs. Hence intemperance in eating and drinking all 
 indigestible articles of food, and above all things late suppers, 
 should be avoided. 
 
 " An easy mind, a good digestion, and plenty of exercise in the 
 open air, are the grand conducives to sound sleep; and, accord- 
 ingly, every man whose repose is indifferent, should endeavoF to 
 make them his own as soon as possible." 
 
 THE DUTY OF AN ATTENTION TO HEALTH. 
 
 The celebrated English moralist, Dr. Johnson, has eloquently 
 enforced the duty and importance of an early attention to the means 
 of preserving health. 
 
 " Among the innumerable follies," he observes, " by which we lay 
 up in our youth repentance and remorse for the succeeding part of 
 our lives, there is scarce any against which warnings are of less 
 efficacy than the neglect of health. When the springs of motion 
 are yet elastic, when the heart bounds with vigor and the eye 
 sparkles with spirit, it is with difficulty that we are taught to con- 
 ceive the imbecility that every hour is bringing upon us, or to hna- 
 irine that the nerves which are now braced with so much activity, 
 will lose all their power under the gripe of time, relax with nuiiib- 
 ne>s, and totter with debility. 
 
 "Health is indeed so necessary to all the duties, as well as 
 pleasures of life, that the crime; of squandering it is equal to the 
 folly; and lie that for a short gratification brings weakness and 
 diseases upon himself, and for the 'pleasure of a few years passed in 
 the tumults of diversion and the clamors of merriment, condemns 
 2*
 
 18 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 the matuvcr and more experienced part of his life to the chamber 
 and the couch, may be justly reproached, not only as a spendthrift 
 of his own happiness, but as the robber of the public, as a 
 wretch that has voluntarily disqualified himself for the business of 
 his station, and refused that part which Providence assigns him in 
 the general task of human nature." 
 
 HEALTH PRESERVED BY RULES. 
 
 Arespectaole prelate, Cardinal de Salis, archbishop of Seville, who 
 died A. D. 1785, at the advanced age of 110 years, is one among 
 many instances of the advantages to be derived from rules. When 
 asked what system he observed, he used to tell his friends " By 
 being old when I was young, I find myself young now I am old." 
 
 Though it is not often we can draw dietetic rules from the drama, 
 or enforce in its language the advantages of temperance, yet the 
 following passage from Shakspeare will be admitted by all as perti- 
 nent to our present purpose : 
 
 " Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty 5 
 For in my youth I never did apply 
 Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood ; 
 , Nor did not, with unbashful forehead, woo 
 The means of weakness and debility. 
 Therefore my age is as a lusty winter 
 Frosty, but kindly." 
 
 A NERVOUS LADY. 
 
 " Cselia is always telling you how provoked she is, what intoler- 
 ably shocking things happen to her ; what monstrous usage she 
 suffers, and what vexations she meets with every where. She tells 
 you that her patience is quite worn out, and there is no bearing the 
 behavior of people. Every assembly that she is at, sends her home 
 provoked ; something or other has been said or done, that no reason- 
 able, well-bred person ought to bear. Poor people, that want her 
 charity, are sent away with hasty answers, not because she has not 
 a heart to part with any money, but because she is too full of some 
 trouble of her own, to attend to the complaints of others. Cselia 
 has no business upon her hands, but to receive the income of a plen- 
 tiful fortune ; but yet, by the doleful tune of her mind, you would 
 be apt to think that she had neither food nor lodging. If you see 
 her look more pale than ordinary, if her lips tremble wfien she 
 speaks to you, it is because she is just come from a visit, where
 
 SYMPTOMS. 19 
 
 Lupus took no notice at all of her, but talked all the time to Lucinda, 
 who has not half her fortune. When cross accidents have so dis- 
 ordered her spirits, that she is forced to send for the doc tor, to make 
 her able to eat, she tells him, in great anger at Providence, that 
 she never was well since she was born, and that she envies every 
 beggar that she sees in health. 
 
 " This is the disquiet life of Caalia, who has nothing to torment 
 her, but her own spirit. 
 
 "If you would inspire her with a Christian humility, you need do 
 no more to make her as happy as any person in the world. This 
 virtue would make her thankful to God for half so much health as 
 she has had, and help her to enjoy more for the time to come. 
 This virtue would keep off tremblings of the spirits, and loss of 
 appetite, and her blood would need nothing else to sweeten it." 
 Law's Serious Call. 
 
 SYMPTOMS. 
 
 It is seldom that we meet with so much playful satire, enlisted in 
 the cause of benevolence and virtue, as in M Thinks-I-to-Myself." 
 For the benefit of those who have not read the work, it will be suf- 
 ficient to premise that the narrator and chief actor is persuaded by 
 hie parents to pay court to Miss Twist, a rich heiress whose father's 
 estate is contiguous to his own paternal domains ; but he is himself 
 attached to Emily Mandeville, a daughter of the vicar. He is sadly 
 tormented with a bumping at his heart, the true cause of which he 
 discovers in the following manner : 
 
 " One day, as I was walking in the garden with Miss Mandeville 
 and the females of the family, it came into my head that Emily 
 would like to have a beautiful moss-rose that I had just gathered : 
 Tkinks-I-to-mysdfj Til go and stick it in her bosom: at that very 
 moment 1 had such an extraordinary seizure of the bumping at my 
 heart, that I was ready to drop ; but what appeared to me more 
 strange was, that I could not go to her, do what I would ; for the 
 first time in my life, I felt a sort of dread of her. While Miss Man- 
 deville had been questioning me about the ball at Nicotium Castle, a 
 little before, I thought she looked displeased with me ; and when I 
 expected it of her as a friend, that she would have liked to hear of 
 the notice that had been taken of me, I observed she walked quite 
 away : I had never quarrelled with her in all my life, nor she 
 with me : I would have done any thing to have served her, or 
 pleased her ; and now that 1 felt afraid of her, I still seemed to 
 want to serve her, and please her more than ever: Thinks-I-to- 
 myself, certainly I am bewitched ; soon after, she came up to us 
 of" her own accord : Thinks- I-to-my self, now I'll give the rose ; so I 
 went to her with it, and was going to offer it ; but my tongue sud- 
 denly got so perfectly dry in my mouth, that Til be hanged if I
 
 20 THE FAMILY VISITOR/ 
 
 could speak a word. Thinks-I-to-myself, I am certainly going to 
 die. I was so frightened, I got away as soon after a* 1 could ; but 
 the bumping continued all the way home, woree, I think, than ever. 
 I was afraid to tell my mother of it, because I knew she would send 
 for Mr. Bolus, and that always ended in such severe and long- 
 continued discipline, generally beginning with an emetic, which 
 tore me to pieces, that I always kept my maladies to myself as long 
 as I could. 
 
 ' As my .sister was just come home, I asked her about it ; but she 
 only laughed at me, though I could not tell why : I got into my 
 father's library, one morning-, in order to try if I could find my case 
 in any of the physical books there, of which he had a store. 1 
 looked into a good many, just running over the symptoms of each, 
 which caught my eye, as being in capital letters, thus, SYMPTOMS, 
 and it is past all conception what a variety of diseases I seemed to 
 have ; for to look for bumping only, was nothing ; the more I read, 
 the more symptoms I detected ; I was not aware 'of a hun- 
 dredth part of what I suffered, till the book suggested them ; 1 
 plainly saw my case to be (at least I thought so then) a compli- 
 cation of all the classes, orders, genera, and species of disease, that 
 had ever afflicted the race of man. As I went along, and ques- 
 tioned myself as to the several symptoms of the different disorders as laid 
 down in the book, I found I had not only bumpings, but dreadful pains 
 in my head and loins, with a iveariness of limbs ; stretching, yawning, 
 shivering, and shaking, which are pretty plain signs, as any body must 
 allow, oi'tat approaching fever; I had a rigor, or chilliness, pains in 
 my back, difficulty of breathing. I had a violent pricking pain in one 
 of the sides, deep down among my ribs, which wtis manifestly a 
 pleurisy or peripneumony, I could not exactly discern which ; 1 
 had violent Jlushing in the face, disturbed sleep, and a singing in my 
 cars, which seemed to me to indicate a phrenitis : I had a painful 
 tension on the right side also, just opposite the pricking pain on my 
 left, under the false ribs, which! knew at once to be a disordered 
 liver : in short, I kept looking and looking, till I was evidently con- 
 vi need that I had not a sound part about me ; and I should, I am 
 persuaded, have taken to my bed, and died, to the great joy of Mrs. 
 Fidget, if it had not been that I rather wished to die. Ever since 
 Emily Mandeville had looked grave at me, I had felt as bold as a 
 lion about dying ; and, I will venture to say, covdd have resolutely 
 walked into the very arms of old Dry-bones with his hour glass, 
 had I but met him any where in my walks. 
 
 " I did, however, take a little medicine, by advice of the books, 
 picked up here and there. I managed to buy some ipecacuanlia, asafcet- 
 ida, Glauber's salt, and compound tincture of senna, which, mixing 
 up with a small parcel of jalap, and some soccolrine aloes, (not very 
 regularly, I confess, for I knew nothing of the proper proportions,) 
 1 took a tea-spoonful night and morning, for three days, which so 
 effectually moved my stomach, as to give me, as I thought, the 
 fairest chance of a perfect recovery ; however, not so ; I could not 
 reach the bumping, after all, which occurred so instantaneously 
 upon the smallest recollection of Emily Mandeville, that, had she
 
 A GOOD SPECULATION. 21 
 
 been old and ugly, or had she ever been seen in the air, or on a 
 broom, it must have convinced me, that she was the exact person 
 that had bewitched me. I continued in this state for some days 
 iil't<;r my sister's return home ; during which time Miss Twist came 
 often to see her in her carriage, and Emily Mandcville once on foot: 
 I could plainly perceive, that though the latter did not at all mind 
 coming on foot, the former was very proud indeed of coming in her 
 carriage : but what was odd, even this difference between the two, 
 as soon as I perceived it, brought on the bumping at my heart: 
 Thinks-I-to-myself, Emily shall ride in her carriage too. 
 
 " I know not how long I might have remained in this miserable, 
 uncertain state, had it not been for the most unlooked-for accident, 
 that ever befell one in my sad condition. One day that Miss Twist 
 had dined with us, she and my sister, in the evening, were playing 
 and singing at the piano-forte. They both sung extremely well, 
 only Miss Twist was so abominably affected, 1 could not bear to 
 look at her while she sung, but stood at a distance, generally, listen- 
 ing to the words. Mutic I delighted in ; especially, I found, since 
 the first attack of my bumping there were some tunes so exqui- 
 sitely soothing and delightful, I could scarce bear them ; and some 
 of the words of the songs seemed to me to touch my complaint : Miss 
 Twist, 1 perceived, had a particular knack in fixing upon such songs : 
 at last there came one that completely opened my poor, dull eyes ; the 
 two first verses were sufficient. I had not made complete experi- 
 ment of all, but my eyes were opened, as I say : Thinks-I-to- 
 myself, "That's enough:" as I whispered to my sister, to beg her to 
 repeat it, I could not help marking every word, the second time, 
 and accompanying them with my usual soliloquies. 
 
 " When Delia on the plain appears," 
 
 sung Miss Twist : Thinks-I-to-mysdf, When Emily Mandeville 
 walks in the garden, 
 
 " Awed by a thousand 'tender fears, 
 I would approach, but dare not move ; " 
 
 Thinks-I-to-mysdf, SYMPTOMS! the exact case to a hair! neve* 
 was any tiling more plain ! 
 
 " Telljne, my heart, if this be LOVE ! " 
 
 Yes, undoubtedly ! Neither fever, nor pleurisy, nor peripneumonif, 
 nor phrenilis, nor a diseased liver, but LOVE ! downright love. My 
 eyes were opened I saw." 
 
 A GOOD SPECULATION. 
 
 In the year 1682, Sir Henry Blunt died, in Hertfordshire, at the 
 advanced age of 90. It is related of this gentleman, that he trans-
 
 - I 
 
 22 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 ferred his estate, with the inheritance, producing between four and 
 five hundred pounds per annum, to Sir. John Harpur, of Derbyshire, 
 on condition that he should receive an annuity of 1000 for life. 
 The temptation on the part of the latter seems to have Arisen 
 from the character of Blunt, who was ardently fond of travelling, 
 and not less so of the bottle two propensities which promised a 
 speedy and profitable termination of the annual payment. Blunt, 
 sensible of the advantage he had gained, determined to lead a new 
 life, and became one of the most temperate of men, and actually 
 received 40,000 for his inheritance. "This," says Langly Curtiss, 
 in his Mercury, " may serve for advice to all debauchees to become 
 sober and temperate, if it were only to preserve their lives." 
 
 CHILLING POLITENESS. 
 
 Without entering into any disquisition as to the rites of hospi- 
 tality and the merits of social duties, we shall briefly notice what 
 we conceive to be " singularly cold civility " the effects of which 
 are felt by the suffering party long after their exposure to it. Large 
 rooms reserved for the use of company, or invited guests, are often 
 shut up for many days, and even sometimes for weeks together, in 
 damp and cold weather. These are opened, and a fire made in 
 them an hour or two only before the arrival of the visitors, who are 
 allowed by this means to sit exposed, at first to the chilling air of 
 the room, and subsequently to the moisture which evaporates from 
 the curtains, carpeting, and chair seats. The persons thus suffer- 
 ing are generally clad in a lighter attire than is customary with 
 them ; and, if they do not actually shiver under their reception, we 
 must attribute it to an uncommon effort of volition. But in addi- 
 tion to these dispensations common to the whole group, there is 
 not {infrequently a current of air, rushing in with force enough to 
 turn a small windmill, through the crevice or opening of a door, or 
 window, which strikes against the neck ge back of some timid 
 maiden, or awkward country youth, who are fearful of being thought 
 impolite by changing their places, and obtaining a seat nearer the 
 fire. Dinner is at length served, and then, by the doctrine of com- 
 pensation, these two persons are allowed to sit with their backs to 
 the fire during the repast, to make room, at a more pleasant part of 
 the table, for their seniors, or those who have frankness enough to 
 say that they cannot bear the fire ; that is, they cannot bear to be 
 roasted for politeness' sake. 
 
 Night arrives, and the hour for sleep finds the favored guest in a 
 bed which has been for weeks a bed of state, and between sheets, 
 which are so damp that they adhere to the skin. Perhaps the 
 room had been washed out in the 'morning, in order to be in nice 
 trim, and as an evidence of still greater respect to the visitor, who, 
 
 I *
 
 THE SISTERHOOD OF CHAUITY. , 23 
 
 in addition to the other evidences of chilling politeness, receives 
 the cold, damp air comin:r from the floor and avails. 
 
 Cold^, coughs, and consumptions, are often the effects of this 
 kind of friendly attentiBns, which are succeeded by another series, 
 scarcely less distressing, and still more fatal. These consist in the 
 recommendation of sundry cough mixtures, pulmoiiic balsams, and 
 the like. Hence a person has a poor chance of escape, under the* 
 kindness of those friends, of whom one class bring on the disease, 
 and the other kill, while promising to cure it. Journal of Health. 
 
 THE SISTERHOOD OF CHARITY. 
 
 "It was about the year 1629 that the foundation of the establish- 
 ment of the Sisterhood of Charity was laid in France, by the pious 
 exertions of Vincent de Paul, a priest greatly and justly celebrated 
 lor his uncommon virtues and the untiring energy of his character. 
 lie was the founder of many charitable institutions, particularly 
 LSHosuice des Hnfans trouves* -He is canonized, and honored 
 with tii- title of r-Niint as well merite^ in this instance as it has 
 been misplaced in others. All the print-shops in Paris display full- 
 length portraits of Vincent de Paul ; and the artist has giten a most 
 speaking eulogy of this truly good man. Instead of being repre- 
 sented, like most of his brother saints, surrounded by the absurd 
 and revolting types of superstition, he is placed in a street at night, 
 in the midst of a winter storm, with an infant clasped to his breast, 
 just rescued from the shroud of snow, to which some cruel mother 
 had consigned it, and smiling in the face of its preserver. Such 
 was the model (so unfrcquently followed) for Christian ministers, 
 and to whom is due the institution of ' Les Sceurs de la Charite.' 
 
 "Vincent was aided in his first efforts towards this holy work by a 
 Madame Legras, a widowed lady of illustrious birth and large Ibr- 
 tune, who associated herself with her pious confessor ; and under 
 their joint care it rapidly acquired consistence and- immense suc- 
 Tlie congregation, or society, of ' F'dles de la Cliarite? spread 
 all over France, and was divided into many different branches, 
 under various titles ; many females of the first quality joined the 
 association ; and instances of virtue truly sublime were frequently 
 displayed by almost every individual "Sister" to whom an occasion 
 presented itself. 
 
 " For nearly two centuries this admirable institution remained un- 
 disturbed, and completely identified with France, as well as with 
 the nations into which it was received with avidity. But in 171)3 
 even the Scturs de la Churitc did not escape the general ruin. The 
 society w;is destroyed in Paris: the houses and property of the in- 
 stitution wen- seized and confiscated, the sisterhood dispersed and 
 
 * The Foundling IJocpiiul.
 
 24 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 persecuted, and many of them put to death. The wretched rabble, 
 in their frenzy, destroyed the very beings who, in the moment of their 
 worst excess, would have brought them succor and safety. In the 
 provinces, however, the S&urs were respected ; and in 1801 the 
 sagacity of Bonaparte, then enjoying his most glorious title, first 
 consul of the republic, reestablished the institution, which from 
 that day has become more flourishing, more extended, and more 
 venerated than ever. 
 
 " The duties of the ' Sisterhood of Charity ' are simple in their 
 mere mention. They are confined to attending the poor and sick, 
 administering medicines, nursing themj and giving them the con- 
 solations of religion. But the details of such duties, put in practice, 
 entail a varied train of trials and sufferings. A fund of charity 
 must be deeply lodged in the heart of the female that enters into this 
 order ; and they who thus devote themselves to the service of the 
 wretched, frequently abandon, in doing so, all the enjoyments 
 attached to the possession of large fortune and illustrious birth. 
 But this sacrifice is not as rare as might be imagined. Young girls, 
 reared in the lap of pleasure, and destined to all the splendor and 
 luxuries of the world, often voluntarily renounce them, and offer 
 up a portion of the best years of their existence to the duties of 
 benevolence and charity. We often see them flying from all the 
 seductions of a worldly life, to embrace, with ardor, the pious obli- 
 gations of such pursuits ; and that, too, without having been excited 
 to it by the too frequent causes of self-sacrifice one of those sud- 
 den losses which so cruelly reveal the power of death, or of those 
 unlooked-for changes which betray the inconstancy of passion. 
 
 "They go through a novitiate of a few months, and the period of 
 their vows is only for one year ; but many continue for a succes- 
 sion of years, and even for life. They can possess no property, nor 
 enjoy any inheritance. They are supported and lodged, hut their 
 services are gratuitous. They are guided and governed, in their 
 general administration, by a code of instructions, drawn up by the 
 hand of Vincent de Paul himself. Such is a slight outline of this 
 sisterhood, a real blessing to the countries where it exists, and an 
 honor to human nature." Traits of Travel. 
 
 THE MYSTERY REVEALED. 
 
 A famous man of medicine, so famous for his cures, his won- 
 derful cures, gave out some years before his decease, that he 
 would leave a book in manuscript, which should contain the result 
 of all his practice and experience, reading and learned research 
 the same to be sold at public auction for the benefit of his widow 
 and children. 
 
 In the course of nature he died before his wife a fortunate cir- 
 cumstance for the narrative. According to directions, all the facts
 
 BEAUTY AND HEALTH. 25 
 
 in this "noticeable" transaction were laid before the discerning 
 
 public, in the newspapers, and tin; time for the auction appointed. 
 This evrnt also took place, as e\;.ct ;;s the almanac calculations, and 
 brought vvith it many of the rich and the learned from distant 
 places. The auction went on rapidly, and the precious treasure, 
 lincly wrapped, and the bandages on the envelope duly and oflj- 
 cially sealed with bright, gloss\, red sealing- wa.\, was fairly and 
 finally bought by a wealthy nobleman, who was nobly determined 
 to keep this valuable and desirable book of medical experience in 
 the country. When all the ceremonies of cash and delivery were 
 duly disposed of, he IT tired to the innermost recess of his palace 
 v pri\.itc cabinet to read, with dear-bought delight, this pro- 
 duction of wisdom. He broke the seals, and removed many a fine- 
 tinted wrapper, until he came to a book, in appearance, very suita- 
 ble liir a beautiful voting lady's album, those pretty repertories and 
 depositories of love and nonsense : he opened the delicate, lily-white 
 with gilt edges, "bound in gilt calf," but found the fair 
 not yet written on : the blank yet to be filled like the heads 
 of many young men. Still he had courage and hope, for he had 
 paid his go 11 for wisdom: and he turned over the pages until he 
 came to the tallowing words words deserving to be written in 
 letters like tho.-e over the principal gate of Athens, in the days of 
 her pride and glory "Keep the feet dry, the skin clean, the head 
 ci> f , ihc difU'stion regular, and a Jig for the. Doctors" Here was 
 the quintessence of medical wisdom, rectified from the grosser par- 
 ticles of dry and learned dust reduced and simplified to its lowest 
 possible terms, like the Chinese emperor's library, from one hun- 
 dred and filly thousand volumes of manuscripts, to one plain palm- 
 leal' of wisdom and learning. Journal of Health. 
 
 BEAUTY AND HEALTH. 
 
 "Females should lie early taught the important fact, that beauty 
 cannot, in reality, exist independent of health ; and that the one is 
 absolutely unattainable by any practice inconsistent with the other. 
 In vain do they hope to improve their skin, to give a 'roseate 
 hue ' to their cheeks, or to augment the grace and symmetry of 
 their forms, unlos they are cautious to preserve the whole frame in 
 health, vigor and act'n ity. Beauty of complexion, and, to a certain 
 extent, that of shape also, is nothing more than visible health a 
 pure mirror of the perfect performance of the internal functions, 
 and <>f their harmony with the external portions of the system: the 
 certain effects of pure air, cheerfulness, temperance, and of exercise 
 uninterrupted by any species of unnatural constraint." 
 3
 
 26 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 CHINESE WOMEN. 
 
 Females in China do not bold that rank, or enjoy those privileges, 
 which, in more cultivated nations, are conceived to be their due. 
 The Chinese women are generally very ignorant, their instructions 
 being principally in domestic affairs. A learned lady is so uneoni- 
 7umi, that her attainments are a theme of admiration ; she is immor- 
 talized in odes, and her fair resemblance magnilicently illuminated 
 on fans, screens, &c., for the admiration of posterity. The poorer 
 classes are engaged in various menial offices, while those of rank 
 employ their time in music, smoking, an:l other accomplishments. A 
 lady of fashion is, of course, supposed guiltless of any manual labor, 
 a7id, consequently, the nails are permitted to acquire an enormous 
 length, particularly that of the little finger. These ladies' smoke 
 much, and their pipes, usually formed of slender bamboos, the 
 bowl of silver or white copper, and mouth-piece of amber or val- 
 uable stone, are in many instances singularly elegant. The pieces 
 of bamboo used for the stems are valuable according to the regu- 
 larity and beauty of the wood, the evenness of the joints, and clear- 
 ness of the bore. For those in which these various excellences are 
 in great perfection, high prices are given. 
 
 Music is a .favorite recreation, and guitars of various kinds, with 
 other musical instruments of extraordinary .shape and tone, are in- 
 dispensable appurtenances to the boudoir of a Chinese belle. In 
 such trifling employments, the life of these imprisoned beauties 
 glides away with little variation, while that of the lower classes is 
 one perpetual scene of labor and exposure. They perform not only 
 all those offices which are assigned to them in other countries, but 
 on them and their children principally devolves the task of naviga- 
 ting the multitudes of small boats which cover the Chinese rivers. 
 They are the moving power of these floating houses, for such in 
 fact they are; born and dying in them, never living on shore, and 
 possessing nothing but their boats and the contents. The women, 
 Irom the continual exposure to sun and wind, become very dark, 
 lose all that soft listlessness of expression, and delicacy of form, for 
 which the higher classes arc distinguished, and resemble in their 
 exterior another people. They acquire masculine strength and 
 7i!;Miiiers, and from eariy habit become perfectly inured to the 
 laborious occupation of rowing or sculling the heavy boats in 
 which they live. 
 
 Women of the poorer classes show themselves without the least 
 i- in all public places: but no female, whose means permit it, 
 ever goes abroad except in a palanquin or sedan chair, most of 
 which are furnished with curtains, which effectually conceal the 
 occupant. In fact, so few of the Chinese women have any preten- 
 sions ro personal beauty, according to our idea of it. and those who 
 have are so covered with paint, that, farther than as objects of curi- 
 osity, they have few attractions for a foreign eye. The hair is 
 always remarkably neat, generally very long and abundant, and
 
 CHINESE WOMKX. 27 
 
 d in a most elaborate manner, ornamented with gold or silver 
 bodkins, and flower.-;, such as tin,- Indian jasmine, which are delight- 
 fully fragrant, and disposed with much taste and ellect. 
 
 'I'll' >'(/ with the celebrated small feet invariably 
 
 outrank the other females of the family, who are unhappy < i 
 to have their extremities flourishing in a state of nature. Th- 
 tom of compressing the feet, which baa so long been supposd to 
 originate in the jealousy of Chinese husbands, is, in reality, but in 
 imitation of a certain queen of China, \\ho, being ordered to bind 
 up her le.-t in the smallest possible compass, to please the fancy ot 
 her lord, was, of course, immediately imitated by the ladies of her 
 eourt ; and it thus became a standing custom. 
 
 The e.\n -- in which the compression is carried by many is per- 
 fectly wonderful. Some of the females are so mutilated by this 
 horrid cuMnm as to be unable to walk any considerable distance; 
 and when compelled to make the effort, which is painful and diffi- 
 cult, they find a stick, or the shoulder of a servant maid, a neces- 
 sary support. 
 
 The revulsion of blood to the feet, when the bandages,* which 
 confine the limb, are removed, is said to be perfectly insupportable; 
 and no less painful is the unnatural confinement of the growing 
 limbs of young children, who suffer this inhuman torture for the 
 sake of fashion. We are informed, that it is necessary to watch 
 them closely during growth, as the pain they endure from the ban- 
 frequently induces them, when unobserved, to tear them oft', 
 in order to obtain relief. A sister who possesses a pair of these mis- 
 erable-looking teet, enjoys, as we have observed above, a higher rank 
 in the family, in consideration of such insignia of fashionable pre- 
 eminence. The effect of the process is found to be a premature 
 appearance of age, and decrepitude, which is materially aided by 
 marriage, contracted at a very early age. Those whose feet have 
 not been subjected to this operation, are observed to fail sooner, it 
 is true, than the females of temperate climates, but preserve their 
 youthful appearance long after the charms of their envied compan- 
 
 led. 
 The .~i/e oi'thes'- curious feet varies from four inches to the usual 
 
 . of the female toot, as in some, from carelessness, they have 
 no impediment presented to their growing in length, and are only 
 very much compressed. Those on which the bandaging has been 
 
 illy performed, are scarcely any longer than when first con- 
 lined. The toes are turned under the sole, and the point of the 
 loot is terminated by the great toe, which alone preserves a r. 
 
 io the original form. 
 
 Numbers of poor women, who have been reduced in circum- 
 stances, are hourly observed in the streets, lamed and tormented by 
 
 only remaining badges of their former rank, and many of them 
 
 * The t.ili-s of iron shoos being employed in compressing the feet, aro mere 
 fiction. Bandages, very similar to those of surgeons, arc the only means used for 
 the purpose.
 
 28 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 scarcely covered, and all suffering from the accumulated miseries 
 of want and deformity. 
 
 We have heard Chinese fathers speak of this custom in terms of 
 reprehension, but urged the prevalence of the custom, and the ridi- 
 cule to which those who neglect it are exposed, as an excuse for its 
 continuance. Wootfs Sketclits o 
 
 ONE EFFECT OF STEAM. 
 
 The Liverpool and Manchester steam coaches have, we are told, 
 driven fourteen horse coaches off the road. Each of the horse 
 coaches employed twelve horses there being three stages, and u 
 change of four horses each stage. The total horses employed by 
 these coaches was, therefore, 168. Now, each horse consumes, on 
 an average, in pasture, hay, and corn, annually, the produce of one 
 and a half acres ; the whole would thus consume the produce of 
 252 acres. Suppose, therefore, "every man had his acre," upon 
 which to real' his family, which some politicians deem sufficient, the 
 maintenance of 252 families is gained to the country by these steam 
 coaches. The average number of persons in a family is six, that is, 
 four children, and father and mother. The subsistence of 1512 in- 
 dividuals is thus attained. 
 
 RELIGION FAVORABLE TO HEALTH. 
 
 The late Dr. Rush has remarked, that the different religions of 
 the world, by the activity they excite in the mind, have a sensible 
 influence upon human life. Atheism is the worst of sedatives to 
 the understanding and passions. It is the abstraction of thought 
 from the most sublime, and of Jove from the most perfect, of all pos- 
 sible objects. Man is as naturally a religious as he is a social and 
 domestic animal; and the same violence is done to his mental 
 faculties by robbing him of a belief in God, that is done by dooming 
 him to live in a cell, deprived of the objects and pleasures of social 
 and domestic life. The necessary and immutable connection be- 
 tween the texture of the human mind, and the worship of an object 
 of some kind, was, some forty years since, fully demonstrated by 
 the atheists of Europe ; who, after rejecting the true God, instituted 
 the worship of Nature, of Fortune, and of Human Reason, and, in 
 some instances, with ceremonies of the most expensive and splen- 
 did kind. Religions are friendly to health and life, in proportion as 
 they elevate the understanding, and act upon the passions of hope 
 and love. It will readily occur to every one, that Christianity, when
 
 A M;V.' L.NGLAXD .SKETCH. 29 
 
 believed and obeyt d according to its original consistency with itself, 
 and with the divine attributes, is more calculated to produce those 
 effects than any other religion in the world. Such i.s the salutary 
 operation of its doctrines and precepts upon health and life, that, if 
 its divine authority rested upon no other argument, this alone would 
 iieient to recommend it to our belief. How long mankind 
 outiuue to prefer substituted pursuits and pleasures to this 
 rating stimulus, is uncertain ; but the time, \\e an- .-.-Mired, 
 will I'ouie, \\lien the understanding shall be elevated from its pres- 
 ent inferior objects, and the luxated passions bo reduced to their 
 original order. This change in the mind of man can be eii- 
 only by the influence of the Christian religion, after all the efforts 
 of human reason to produce it solely by means of civilization, 
 philosophy, liberty, and government, have been exhausted, to no 
 purj" 
 
 A NEW ENGLAND SKETCH. 
 
 Did you ever see the little village of Xewbury, in Connecticut? 
 
 I dan say you never did ; for it was just one of those out-of-the-way 
 
 where nobody ever came, unless they came on purpose. a 
 
 . little hollow, wedged, like a bird's nest, between half a dozen 
 high hills, that kept off' the wind, and kept out foreigners; so that 
 the little place was as strictly " sui generis," as if there were not 
 another in the world. The inhabitants were all of that respectable, 
 old, standfast family, who make it a point to be bom, bred, married, 
 di- 1 . and be buried, all in the self-same spot. There were just so 
 many houses, and just so many people lived in them ; and nobody 
 ever seemed to be sick, or to die either, at least while I was there. 
 The natives grew old, till they could not grow o^fci', and then they 
 stood still, and lustnl from generation to generation. There was, too, 
 an unehangeability about all the externals of Newbury. Here was 
 a red house, and tiiere was a brown house, and across the way was 
 a yellow house : and there was a straggling rail fence, or a tribe of 
 mullein stalks between. The parson lived here, and Squire Moses 
 lived there, and Deacon Hart lived under the bill, and Messrs. .Nadab 
 and Abihu Peters lived by the cross road, and the old "Widder" 
 Smith lived by the meeting-house, and Ebenezer Camp ki pt a shoe- 
 makers shop on one side, and Patience .Mosely kept a milliner's 
 shop in front : and there was old Comfort Semn, who kept store for 
 the whole town, and sold av-heads, brass thimbles, liquorice ball, 
 limey handkerchiefs, and every thinir else you can think of. Here, 
 neral post-office, where you might see letters mar- 
 vellously folded, directed wrong side upward, stamped with a thim- 
 ble, and Miperscrihed to some of the Dollys, or I'ollvs. or Peters, or 
 
 ->, aforenamed, or not named. For the re.-t. as to manners, 
 morals, arts, and sciences, the people in Newbury always went to 
 their parties at three o'clock in the afternoon, and came home before 
 3*
 
 30 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 dark; always stopped all work the minute the sun was down on 
 Saturday night ; always went to meeting on Sunday ; had a school- 
 house with all the ordinary inconveniences, were in ueighhorJy 
 charity with each other, read their Bibles, leared their God, and 
 were content with such things as they had, the best philosophy, 
 alter all. Such was the place into which master James Beuton 
 made an irruption, in the year eighteen hundred and no matter what. 
 Now, this James is to he the hero, and he is just the hero for a sen- 
 sation ; at least, so you would have thought, if you had been in 
 Newbury the week after his arrival. Master James was one of those 
 whole-hearted, energetic Yankees, who rise in the world as natu- 
 rally as cork does in the water. He possessed a great share of v that 
 characteristic national trait, so happily denominated "cuteness" 
 which signifies an ability to do every thing without trying, and to 
 know every thing without learning, and to make more use of one's 
 ignorance than other people do of their knowledge. This quality in 
 James was mingled with an elasticity of animal spirits, a buoyant 
 cheerfulness of mind, which, though found in the New England 
 character perhaps as often as any where else, is not ordinarily re- 
 garded as one of its distinguishing traits. 
 
 As to the personal appearance of our hero, we have not much to 
 say of it not half so much as the girls in Newbury ibund it ne- 
 cessary to remark, the first Sabbath that he shone out in the meeting- 
 house. There was a saucy frankness of countenance, a knowing 
 roguery of eye, a joviality and prankishness of demeanor, that was 
 wonderfully captivating, especially to the ladies. 
 
 It is true that Master James had an uncommonly comfortable 
 opinion of himself a full faith that there was nothing in creation 
 that he could not learn, and could not do and this faith was main- 
 tained with an abounding and triumphant joyfulness, that fairly car- 
 ried your sympathies along with him, and made you feel quite as 
 much delighted witj^his qualifications and prospects as he felt him- 
 self. There are rfWdnds of self-sufficiency; one is amusing, the 
 other is provokinlr:^ His was the amusing kind. It seemed in truth 
 to be only the buoyancy and overflow of a vivacious mind, delight- 
 ed with every thing that is delightful in himself or others. He was 
 always ready to magnify his own praise, but quite as ready to exalt 
 his neighbor, if the channel of discourse ran that way. His own 
 perfections being more completely within his knowledge, he re- 
 joiced in them more constantly ; but if those of any one else came 
 within the same range, he was quite as much astonished and edified 
 as if they had been his own. 
 
 Master James, at the time of his transit to the town of Newbury, 
 was only eighteen years of age, so that it was difficult to say which 
 predominated in him most the boy or the man. The belief that 
 lie could, and the determination that he would, be something in the 
 world, had caused him to abandon his home, and with all his world- 
 ly effects tied in a blue cotton pocket-handkerchief, to proceed to 
 seek his fortune in Newbury. And never did stranger, in Yankee 
 village, rise to promotion with more unparalleled rapidity, or boast 
 a greater plurality of employment. He figured as schoolmaster all
 
 A NEW ENGLAND SKETCH. 31 
 
 the week, and as chorister on Sundays, and taught singing and read- 
 ing in the evenings, besides studying Latin and Greek nobody 
 knew when with the minister; thus titling tor college, while he 
 seemed to In doing every thing else in the world besides. 
 
 James understood every art and craft of popularity, and made 
 himseir mightily at home in all the region round about ; knew the. 
 geography of every body's cider barrel and apple bin helping 
 himself and every one else therefrom with all bountifulness; re- 
 joicing in the good things of this life, devouring the old ladies' , 
 dough-nuts and pumpkin pies with most flattering appetite, and ap- 
 pearing equally to relish every body and thing that came in his 
 way. 
 
 The degree and versatility of his acquirements were truly won- 
 derful. He knew all about arithmetic and history, and all about 
 catching squirrels and planting corn ; made poetry and hoe-handles 
 with equal celerity ; wound yarn and took out grease-spots for old 
 ladies, and made nosegays and knick-knacks for young ones ; caught 
 trout Saturday afternoons and discussed doctrines on Sundays with 
 equal adroitness and effect. In short, Mr. James moved on through 
 the place 
 
 " Victorious, 
 Happy and glorious," 
 
 welcomed and privileged by every body in every place; and when 
 he had told his last ghost story, and fairly flourished himself out of 
 doors, at the close of a long winter's evening, you might see the 
 hard t'ace of the good man of the house, still phosphorescent with 
 his departing radiance, and hear him exclaim, in a paroxysm of ad- 
 miration, that "Jemes's talk re'ely did beat all that he was sarten- 
 ly a most miraculous cre'tur!" 
 
 Jt was wonderfully contrary to the buoyant activity of Master 
 James's mind, to keep a school. He had, moreover, so much of the 
 boy and the rogue in his composition, that he could not lie strict 
 \\itli tlit: iniquities of the curly pates under his charge ; and when 
 he saw how determinate!}' every little heart was boiling o\er with 
 mischief and motion, he felt in his soul more disposed to join in and 
 help them to a regular frolic, that to lay justice to the line as was 
 meet. This would have made a sad case, had it not been that the 
 activity of the master's mind communicated itself to his charge, 
 just as the reaction of one brisk little spring will lill a manufactory 
 with motion ; so that there was more of an impulse towards study 
 in tin- golden, good-natured day of James lieiiton, than in the time 
 of all that went before or came alter him. 
 
 I'.ut \\heii -school was out," James's spirits foamed over as natu- 
 rally as a tumbler of soda-water, and he could jump over benches, 
 and burst out of doors, \\iih as much rapture as the veriest little elf . 
 in his company. Then you might have seen him stepping home- 
 ward with a most felicitous expression of countenance, occasionally 
 reaching his hand through the fence for a bunch of currants, or over 
 it after a sun-flower, or bursting into some back yard to help an old 
 lady empty her wash-tub, or stopping to pay his devoirs to aunt this,
 
 tW THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 or mistress that for James well knew the importance of the 
 "powers thai be," and always kept the sunny side of the old ladies. 
 
 We shall not answer for James's general flirtatious, which were 
 sundry and manifold ; for he had just the kindly heart that fell in 
 love with every thing in feminine shape that came in his way ; and 
 if he had not been blessed with an equal faculty for falling out 
 again, we do not know what ever would have become of him. But 
 at length he came into an abiding captivity, and it is quite time that 
 .he should; for, having devoted thus much space to the illustration 
 of our hero, it is fit we should do something in behalf of our hero- 
 ine ; and therefore we must beg the reader's attention, while we 
 draw a diagram or two that will assist him in gaining a right idea 
 of her. 
 
 Do you see yonder brown house, with its broad roof sloping 
 almost to the ground on one side, and a great, unsupported sun- 
 bonnet of piazzi shooting out over the front door ? You must often 
 have noticed it; you have seen its tall sweep relieved against the 
 clear evening sky, or observed the feather beds and bolsters loung- 
 ing out of its chamber windows o;i a still summer morning ; you 
 recollect its gate, that swung with a chain and a great stone ; its pan- 
 try window, latticed with little brown slabs, and looking out upon a 
 forest of bean-poles; you remember the zephyrs that used to play 
 among its pea-brush, and shake the long tassels of its corn-patch, and 
 how vainly any zephyr might essay to perform similar flirtations with 
 the considerate cabbages that were solemnly vegetating near by. 
 Then there was the whole neighborhood of purple-leaved beets, and 
 feathery carrots, and parsnips ; there were the billows of gooseberry- 
 bushes rolled up by the fence, interspersed with rows of quince 
 trees; and far off in one corner was one little patch, penuriously de- 
 voted to ornament, which flamed with marigolds, poppies, snappers, 
 and four-o'clocks. Then there was a little box by itself, with one rose- 
 geranium in it, which seemed to look around the garden as much like 
 a stranger as a French dancing master in a Yankee meeting-house. 
 
 That is the dwelling of uncle Timothy Griswold. Uncle Tim, as 
 he was commonly called, had a character that a painter would sketch 
 for its lights and contrasts, rather than its symmetry. He was a 
 chestnut bur, abounding with briers without, and with substantial 
 goodness within. He had the strong-grained practical sense, the 
 calculating worldly wisdom, of his class of people in New England. 
 He had, too, a kindly heart, but the whole strata of his character was 
 crossed by a vein of surly petulance, that, half way between joke 
 and earnest, colored every thing that he said and did. 
 
 If you asked a favor of Uncle Tim, he generally kept you arguing 
 half an hour, to prove that you really needed it, and to tell you that 
 he could not all the while be troubled with helping one body or an- 
 other, all which time you might observe him regularly making his 
 preparations to grant your request, and see, by an odd glimmer of 
 iris eye, that he was preparing to let you hear the " conclusion of the 
 whole matter ; " which was, " Well well I guess I'll go, on the 
 hull I 'spose 1 must at least" so off he would go and work 
 while the day lasted, and then wind up with a farewell exhortation, 
 
 I
 
 A NEW ENGLAND SKETCH. 33 
 
 "not to be a' callin' on your neighbors, when yon could get alonj^ 
 without it." It' any of Uncle Tim's neighbors were in any trouble, 
 he was always at hand to tell them -' that they shouldn't a' done so : " 
 that " it was strange they couldn't had more sense ; " and then to close 
 .hortatioiis by laboring more diligently than any to bring them 
 out of their difficulties, groaning in spirit, meanwhile, that folks 
 would make people so much trouble. 
 
 I'ncle Tim, lather want* to know if you will lend him your hoe 
 to-day ? " says a little boy, making his way across a cornfield. 
 
 "Why don't your lather use his own hoe ?" 
 
 " Our'n is broke." 
 
 " Broke ! How came it broke ? " 
 
 "I broke it, ye.-tcrclay, trying to hit a squirrel." 
 
 " What business had you to be hittin' squirrels with a hoe ? Say." 
 
 " Hut father wants to borrow yours." 
 
 "Why don't he have that mended? It's a great pester to have 
 every body usin' a body's things." 
 
 "Well, I can borrow one somewhere else, I suppose," says the 
 suppliant. After the boy has stumbled across the ploughed ground, 
 and is fairly over the fence, Uncle Tim calls, 
 
 " 1 lallno," there, you little rascal ! What you goin' off without the 
 hoe for ': " 
 
 "I didn't know as you meant to lend it." 
 
 "I didn't say I wouldn't, did I? Here, come and take it stay 
 I'll bring it ; and do you tell your father not to be a' lettin' you 
 hunt squirrels with his hoes next time." 
 
 I'ncle Tim's household consisted of Aunt Sally his wife, and an" 
 only son and daughter. The former, at the time our story begins, 
 was at a neighboring literary institution. Aunt Sally was precisely 
 as clever, as easy to be entreated, and kindly in externals, as her 
 help-mate was the reverse. She was one of those respectable, 
 pleasant old ladies, whom you might often have met on the way to 
 church on a Sunday, equipped with a great fan, and a psalm-book, 
 and carrying some dried orange-peel, or a stalk of fennel, to give to 
 the children, if they were sleepy in meeting. 
 
 She was as cheerful and domestic as the tea-kettle that sung by 
 her kitchen tire, and slipped along among Uncle Tim's angles and 
 peculiarities, as if then; never was any thing the matter in the 
 world ; ;;iid the same mantle of sunshine seemed to have fallen on 
 .Aliss (.race, her only daughter. 
 
 1'rctn in her person, and pleasant in her ways, endowed with na- 
 tive >e|f-|)ossession and address, lively and chatty, having a mind and 
 will of her own, yet good-humored withal, Miss Grace was a uni- 
 ' favorite. It would have puzzled a city lady to understand 
 how (irace, \\ho was never out of Newbury in her life, knew the 
 uay to speak, and act, and behave, on all occasions, exactly as if she 
 had been taught how. She was just one of those wild flowers, which 
 you sometimes may see waving its little head in the woods, and 
 looking so eivili/ed and garden-like, that you wonder if it really did 
 come up and grow there by nature. She was an adept in all house- 
 hold concerns ; and there was something so amazingly pretty in her
 
 34 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 energetic way of bustling about, and "putting tilings to righls." 
 Like most Yankee damsels, she hail a longing alter the tree of knowl- 
 edge, and having exhausted the liteiary fountains of a district school, 
 she fell to reading whatsoever came in her .way. True, she had but 
 little to read, but what, she perused she had her own thoughts upon, 
 so that a person of information, in talking with her, would feel a 
 constant wondering pleasure, to find that she had so much more to 
 say of this, and that, and the other thing, than he expected. 
 
 Uncle Tim, like every one else, felt the magical brightness of his 
 daughter, and was delighted with her praises, as might be discerned 
 by his often finding occasion to remark, that he "didn't see why the 
 boys need to be all the time a' coming to see Grace for she was 
 nothing extror'nary, after all." About all matters and things at home 
 sin; generally had her own way, while Uncle Tim would scold, and 
 give up, with a regular, good grace that was quite creditable. 
 
 "Father," says Grace, " I want to have a party next week." 
 
 "You sha'n't go to havin' your parties, Grace. I always have to eat 
 bits and ends a fortnight after you haye one, and I won't have it so." 
 And so Uncle Tim walked out, and Aunt Sally and Miss Grace pro- 
 ceeded to make the cake and pies for the party. 
 
 When Uncle Tim came home, he saw a long army of pies, and 
 rows of cake on the kitchen table. 
 
 " Grace, Grace, Grace, I say ! What is all this flummery for ? " 
 
 " Why, it is to eat, father," said Grace, with a good-natured look 
 of consciousness. 
 
 Uncle Tim tried his best to look sour ; but his visage began to wax 
 comical, as he looked at his merry daughter ; so he said nothing, but 
 quietly sat down to his dinner. 
 
 " Father," said Grace, after dinner, " we shall want two more can- 
 dlesticks next week." 
 
 " Why, can't you have your party with what you've got ? " 
 
 " No, father, we want two more." 
 
 " I can't afford it, Grace there's no sort of use on't, and you 
 sha'n't have any." 
 
 " O, father, now do," said Grace. 
 
 "I won't, neither," said Uncle Tim, as he sallied out of the house, 
 and took the road to Comfort Seran's store. 
 
 In half an hour he returned again, and fumbling in his pocket, and 
 drawing forth a candlestick, levelled it at Grace. 
 
 " There's your candlestick." 
 
 " But, father, I said I wanted two. 1 " 
 
 " Why, can't you make one do ? " 
 
 "No, I can't I must have two." 
 
 "Well, then, there's t'other and here's a fol-de-rol for you to tie | 
 round your neck." So saying, he bolted for the door, and took him- 
 self off with all speed. It was much after this fashion that matters 
 commonly went on in the brown house. 
 
 But, having tarried too long on the way, we must proceed with our 
 main story. 
 
 James thought Miss Grace was a glorious girl, and as to what Miss 
 Grace thought of Master James, perhaps it would not have been de- 

 
 A NEW ENGLAND SKETCH. 35 
 
 * 
 
 veloped, had Bhe not been called to stand on the defensive for him 
 with Uncle Tim. For, from the time that the whole village of Xew- 
 bury began to he wholly given unto the praise of Master James, Un- 
 cle Tim set his liice as ;i Hint against him, from the laudable fear of 
 following the multitude, lie therefore made conscience of stoutly 
 gainsaying every thing that was said in his favor, which, as James 
 was in hi.L r ii favor with Aunt Sally, he had frequent opportunities to do. 
 
 So \\hen Miss (,'race perceived that I'ncle Tim did not like our 
 hero as much as he ought to do, she, of course, was hound to like 
 him well enough to make up for it. Certain it is, that they were re- 
 markably happy in finding opportunities of being acquainted : that 
 James waited on her, as a matter of course, from singing school; 
 that he volunteered making a new box lor her geranium on an im- 
 proved plan ; and, above all, that he was remarkably particular in his 
 attentions to Aunt Sally a stroke of policy which showed that 
 .Fames had a natural genius for this sort of matters. Even when 
 emerging from the meeting-house, iu full glory, with flute and psalm- 
 book under his arm, he would stop to ask her how she did ; and if 
 it was cold weather, he would carry her foot-stove all the way home 
 from meeting, discoursing upon the sermon, and other useful mat- 
 08 Aunt Sully observed, -'in the pleasantest, prettiest way that 
 ever ye see." This flute was one of the crying sins of James, in the 
 f Uncle Tim. James was particularly fond of it, because he 
 had learned to play on it by intuition ; and on the decease of the 
 old pitch-pipe, which w;:s slain by a fall from the gallery, he took the 
 liberty to introduce the flute in its place. For this and other sins, and 
 for the good reasons above named, Uncle Tim's countenance was not 
 towards James, neither could he be moved him-ward by any manner 
 of means. 
 
 To all Aunt Sally's good words and speeches he had only to say 
 that "he didn't like him; that he hated to see him a' manifesting 
 and glorifying there in the front gallery, Sundays, and a' acting every 
 where ,-is if lie was master of all ; he didn't like it, and he would'nt." 
 But our herb was no whit cast down or discomfited by the malcon- 
 tent aspect of Uncle Tim. On the contrary, when report was made 
 to him of div.rs of his hard speeches, he only shrugged his shoul- 
 ders with a very satisfied air, and remarked, that "he knew a thing 
 on for nil that." 
 
 " Why. Jan !(-," said his companion and chief counsellor, " do you 
 think (irace likes you ': " 
 
 "I don't know/' said our hero, with a comfortable appearance of 
 certainty. 
 
 ' Hut \oit can't get her, James, if Uncle Tim is cross about it." 
 
 ' Utilise ! 1 can make Uncle Tim like me, if I've a mind to try." 
 
 " Well, then, Jim, you'll have to give up that 'are flute of yours, I 
 
 tell \f t'OW." 
 
 Uaw. >ol, law: I'll make him like me, and my flute too." 
 "Why. hrm'll ye do it?" 
 (). HI work it," said our hero. 
 
 ' Well, Jim, 1 tell you now you don't know Uncle Tim, if you say 
 so; for he's ji.-t the stttest crittur, in his way, that ever ye see."
 
 36 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 " I do know Uncle Tim, tho', better than most folks. He's no more 
 cross than I am; and as to his being set, you've nothing to do but 
 make him think lie's in his own way, when he's in yours that's 
 all." 
 
 "Well," said the other, "but ye see I don't believe it." 
 
 "And I'll bet you a gray squirrel, that I'll go there this very even- 
 ing, and <:ct him to like me and my flute both," .said James. 
 
 Accordingly the late sunshine of that afternoon shone full on the 
 yellow buttons of James, as he proceeded to the place of conflict. 
 It was a bright, beautiful evening. A thunder-storm had just cleared 
 away, and the silver clouds lay rolled up in masses around the setting 
 sun; the rain-drops were sparkling and winking to each other over 
 the ends of the leaves, and all the blue-birds and robins, breaking 
 forth into song, znade the little green valley as merry as a musi- 
 cal box. 
 
 James's soul was always overflowing with that kind of poetiy 
 which consists in feeling unspeakably happy; and it is not to be 
 wondered at, considering where he was going, that he should feel in 
 a double ecstasy on the present occasion. He stepped gayly along, 
 occasionally springing over a fence to the right, to see whether the 
 rain had swollen the trout-brook, or to the left, to notice the ripening 
 of Mr. Somebody's water-melons ; for James had an eye on all his 
 neighbors' matters, as well as his own. 
 
 In this way he proceeded, till he arrived at the picket fence that 
 marked the commencement of Uncle Tim's ground. Here he 
 stopped to consider. Just then, four or five sheep walked up, and 
 hf^an also to consider a loose picket, which was hanging just ready to 
 drop off; and James began to look at the sheep. " Well, mister," 
 said he, a.s he observed the leader judiciously drawing himself through 
 the gap, " in with you just what I wanted ;" and having waited a 
 moment to ascertain that all the company were likely to follow, he 
 run with all haste towards the house, and swinging open the gate, 
 pressed all breathless to the door. 
 
 "Uncle Tim, there's four or five sheep in your garden." Uncle 
 Tim dropped his whetstone and scythe. 
 
 " I'll drive them out, sh'a'nt I ? " said our hero ; and with that he ran 
 down the garden alley, and made a furious descent on the enemy, 
 bestirring himself, as Bunyan says, " lustily and with good courage," 
 till every sheep had skipped out much quicker than he skipped in ; 
 and then, springing over the fence, he seized a great stone and nailed 
 on the picket so effectually, that no sheep could possibly encourage 
 the hope of getting in again. This was all the work of a minute, 
 and he was back again, but so exceedingly out of breath, that it was 
 necessary lor him to stop and take breath. 
 
 "What under the canopy set you to scampering so," said Uncle 
 Tim ; "I could a' driv' out them critturs myself." 
 
 " If you're at all particular about driving 'em out yoursdf, I can 
 let 'em in again," said James. 
 
 Uncle Tirn looked at him with an odd sort of a twinkle in the 
 corner of his eye. 
 
 " 'Spose I must ask you to walk in," said he.
 
 A NEW ENGLAND SKETCH. 37 
 
 " Much obliged," said James, "but I am in a great hurry." So say- 
 ing, he started in a very business-like fashion toward the gate. 
 
 " You'd better just stop a minute." 
 
 " Can't stay a minute." . 
 
 u I don't see what possesses you to be all the while in sich a hur- 
 ry ; a body would think you had all creation on your shoulders." 
 
 " Just my situation, Uncle Tim," said James, swinging open the 
 gate. 
 
 " Well, at any rate, have a drink of cider, can't ye ? " said Uncle 
 Tim, who was now quite engaged to have his own way in the case. 
 
 James found it convenient to accept this invitation, and Uncle Tim 
 was twice as good-natured as if he had staid hi the first of the 
 matter. 
 
 Once fairly forced into the premises, James thought fit to forget 
 his long walk and excess of business, especially as about that mo- 
 ment Aunt Sally and Miss Grace returned from an afternoon call. 
 You may be sure that the last thing these respectable ladies looked 
 for, was to find Uncle Tim and Master James, tete-a-Mte, over a 
 pitcher of cider ; and when, as they entered, our hero looked up with 
 something of a mischievous air, Miss Grace in particular was so puz- 
 zled, that it took her at least a quarter of an hour to untie her bonnet 
 strings. But James staid and acted the agreeable to perfection. 
 First, he must needs go down into the garden, to look at Uncle Tim'a 
 wonderful cabbages ; and then he promenaded all around the corn 
 patch, stopping every few moments and looking up with an appear- 
 ance of great gratification, as if he never saw such corn in his lite ; 
 and then he examined Uncle Tim's favorite apple tree, with an ex- 
 pression of wonderful interest. 
 
 " What kind of a tree is that, Uncle Tim ? " 
 
 "It's a bell-flower, or somethin' another," said Uncle Tim, some- 
 what mollified. 
 
 " Why, where did you get it ? I never saw such apples ! " said our 
 hero, with his eyes still fixed on the tree. 
 
 Uncle Tim pulled up a stalk or two of weeds, and threw them 
 over the fence, just to show that he did not care any thing about the 
 matter ; and then he came up, and stood by James. 
 
 "'Tisu't nothing so remarkable, as I know on," said he. 
 
 " I never ! " James broke forth, having stationed himself against 
 the fence opposite to it. 
 
 Just then Grace came to say that supper was ready. Once seated 
 at table, it was astonishing to see the perfect and smiling assurance 
 with which our hero continued his addresses to Uncle Tim. It some- 
 times goes a great way towards making people like us, to take it for 
 granted that they do already ; and upon this principle James pro- 
 rcc.led. He talked, laughed, told stories, and joked with the most 
 fearless assurance ; occasionally seconding his words by looking Un- 
 cle Tim full in the face, with a countenance so full of good-will as 
 would have melted any snow-drift of prejudice in the world. 
 
 James, also, had one natural accomplishment, more courtier-like 
 than all the diplomacy of Europe; and that was the gilt of feeling a 
 real interest for any body hi five minutes; so that if he began to 
 4
 
 38 
 
 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 please in jest, he generally ended in earnest. With all the simplici- 
 ty of his own mind, he had a natural tact for seeing into others, and 
 watched their motions with the same delight with which a child 
 gazes at the wheels and springs of a watch, to see "what it will do." 
 
 The rough exterior and latent kindness of Uncle Tim was quite a 
 spirit-stirring study ; and when tea was over, as he and Grace hap- 
 pened to be standing together in the front door, he broke forth, 
 
 " I do really like your father, Grace." 
 
 "Do you, really t " said Grace. 
 
 " Yes, I do. He has something in Mm, and I like him all the bet- 
 ter for having to fish it out." 
 
 " Well, I hope you will make him like you," said Grace, uncon- 
 sciously ; and then she stopped and looked a little abashed. 
 
 James was too well bred to see this, or look as if Grace meant 
 any thing more than she said a kind of breeding not always at- 
 tendant on more fashionable polish : so he only answered, 
 
 " I think I shall, Grace, though I doubt whether I can get him to 
 own it." 
 
 " He's the kindest man that ever was," said Grace ; " and he al- 
 ways acts as if he was ashamed of it." 
 
 James turned a little away, and looked at the bright evening sky, 
 which was glowing like a calm, golden sea ; and over it was the sil- 
 ver new moon, with one little star to hold the candle for her. He 
 shook some bright drops off from a rose-bush near by, and watched 
 to see them shine as they fell, while Grace stood very quietly wait- 
 ing for him to speak again. 
 
 " Grace," said he at last, " I am going to college this fall." 
 
 " So you told me, yesterday," said Grace, dryly. 
 
 James stooped down over Grace's geranium, and began to busy 
 himself with pulling off all the dead leavesj remarking, in the mean 
 while, 
 
 " And if I do get him to like me, Grace, Avill you like me too ? " 
 
 " 1 like you now, very well," said Grace. 
 
 u Come, Grace, you know what I mean," said James, looking stead- 
 fastly at the top of the apple tree. 
 
 "Well, I wish then you would understand what I mean, without 
 my saying any more about it," said Grace. 
 
 " O, to be sure I will," said our hero, looking up with a very in- 
 telligent air ; and so, as Aunt Sally would say, the matter was set- 
 tled with " no words about it." 
 
 Now, shall we narrate how our hero, as he saw Uncle Tim ap- 
 proaching the door, had the impudence to take out his flute, and put 
 the parts together, screwing it round and fixing it with great com- 
 posure ? 
 
 " Uncle Tim," said he, looking up, " this is the best flute that most 
 ever I saw." 
 
 " I hate them tooting critturs," said Uncle Tim, snappishly. 
 
 " I declare ! I wonder how you can ! " said James, " for I do think 
 they exceed " 
 
 So saying, he put the flute to his mouth, and ran up and down a 
 long flourish.
 
 A NEW ENGLAND SKETCH. 39 
 
 * 
 
 " There ! What do you think of that?" said he, looking in Uncle 
 Tim's face with much delight 
 
 Uncle Tim turned and marched into the house, but soon faced to 
 the right about, and came out again. 
 
 James was fingering " Yankee Doodle," that appropriate national 
 air for the descendants of the Puritans. 
 
 Uncle Tim's patriotism began to bestir itself; and now if it had 
 been any thing, as he said, but "that 'are flute." As it was, he looked 
 more than once at James's fingers. 
 
 " How under the sun could you learn to do that ? " said he. 
 
 " O, it's easy enough," said James, proceeding with another tune ; 
 and having played it through, he stopped a moment to examine the 
 joints of his flute; and in the mean time, addressed Uncle Tim 
 " You can't think how grand this is for pitching tunes ; I always pitch 
 the tunes, Sunday, with it." 
 
 " Yes ; but I don't think it's a right and fit instrument for the Lord's 
 house," said Uncle Tim. 
 
 " Why not ? It's only a kind of a long pitch-pipe, you see," said 
 James ; " and seeing the old one is broken, and this will answer, I 
 don't see why it isn't better than nothing." 
 
 " Why, yes, it may be better than nothing," said Uncle Tim ; "but, 
 as I always tell Grace and my wife, it ain't the right kind of instru- 
 ment, after all ; it ain't solemn." 
 
 " O, solemn ! " said James ; " that's according to how you work it. 
 See here, now." 
 
 So saying, he struck up Old Hundred, and proceeded through it 
 with great perseverance. 
 
 " There, now," said he. 
 
 "Well, well I don't know but it is," said Uncle Tim ; "but as I 
 said at first, I don't like the look of it in a meetin'." 
 
 " But yet you really think it's better than nothing," said James, 
 "for you see I couldn't pitch my tunes without it" 
 
 " May be 'tis," said Uncle Tim ; " but that ain't sayin' much." 
 
 This, however, was enough for Master James, who soon after de- 
 parted with his flute in his pocket, and Grace's last words in his 
 heart; soliloquizing, as he shut the gate, "There, now, I hope Aunt 
 Sally won't go to praising me ; for just so sure as she does, I shall 
 have it all to do over again." 
 
 James was right in his apprehension. Uncle Tim could oe pri- 
 vately converted, but not brought to open confession. And when, the 
 next morning, Aunt Sally remarked, in the kindness of her heart, 
 
 " Well, I always knew you would come to like James," Uncle Tim 
 only responded, " Who said I did like him ?" 
 ** But I'm sure you seemed to like him last night." 
 
 "Why, I couldn't turn him out o' doors, could I? I don't think 
 nothin' of him but what 1 always did." 
 
 But it was to be remarkedwiat Uncle Tim contented himself, at 
 this time, with the mere general avowal, without running it into par- 
 ticulars, as was formerly his wont. It was evident that the ice had 
 begun to melt ; but it might have been a long time in dissolving, had 
 not collateral incidents assisted.
 
 40 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 It so happened, that about this time George Griswold, the only son, 
 before referred to, returned to his native village, after having com- 
 pleted his theological studies at a neighboring institution. It is in- 
 teresting to mark the gradual development of mind and heart, from 
 the time that the white-headed, bashful boy quits the country village 
 for college, to the period when he returns a formed and perfect man ; 
 to notice how gradually the rust of early prejudices begins to cleave 
 from him; how his opinions, like his hand-writing, pass from the 
 cramped and limited forms of a country school, into that confirmed 
 and characteristic style which is to mark the man for life. In George 
 this change was remarkably striking, lie was endowed by nature 
 with uncommon acuteness of feeling and fondness for reflection 
 qualities as likely as any to render a child backward and uninterest- 
 ing in early life. 
 
 When he left Newbury for college, he was a taciturn and appa- 
 rently phlegmatic boy, only evincing sensibility by blushing, and 
 looking particularly stupefied whenever any one spoke to him. Va- 
 cation after vacation passed, and he returned more and more an al- 
 tered being ; and he who once shrunk from the eye of the deacon, 
 and was ready to die if he met the minister, now moved about among 
 the dignitaries of the place with all the composure of a superior 
 being. 
 
 It was only to be regretted that, while the mind improved, the 
 physical energies declined ; and that every visit to his home found 
 him paler, thinner, and less prepared in body for the sacred profes- 
 sion to which he had devoted himself! But now he was returned a 
 minister, a real minister, with a right to stand in the pulpit and 
 preach ; and what a joy and glory to Aunt Sally and to Uncle Tim, 
 if he was not ashamed to own it ! 
 
 The first Sunday after he came, it was known far and near that 
 George Griswold was to preach. Never was a more ready and ex- 
 pectant audience. 
 
 As the time for reading the first psalm approached,you might see the 
 white-headed men turning their faces attentively towards the pulpit. 
 The anxious and expectant old women, with their little black bonnets, 
 bent forward to see him rise. There were the children looking, be- 
 cause every one else looked. There was Uncle Tim, in the front 
 pew, his face considerately adjusted. There was Aunt Sally, seeming 
 as pleased as a mother could seem ; and Miss Grace, lifting her sweet 
 face to her brother, like a flower to the sun. There was our friend 
 James, in the front gallery, his joyous countenance a little touched 
 with sobriety and expectation. In short, a more embarrassingly at- 
 tentive audience never greeted the first effort of a young minister. 
 Under these circumstances, there was something touching in th^ 
 fervent self-forgetfulness which characterized the first efforts of th 
 morning something which moved everyone in the house. 
 
 The devout poetry of his prayer, richgwith the Orientalism of Scrip- 
 ture, and eloquent with the expression of strong yet chastened emo- 
 tion, breathed over his audience like music, hushing everyone to si- 
 lence, and beguiling every one to feeling. In the sermon, there was 
 the strong, intellectual nerve, the constant occurrence of argument
 
 % 
 
 A NEW ENGLAND SKETCH. 
 
 * * 
 
 and statement which distinguishes a New England discourse ; but 
 it was touched with life, by the intense yet half subdued feelings 
 with which he seemed to utter it Like the rays of the sun, it en- 
 lightened and melted at the same moment. 
 
 The strong peculiarities of New England doctrine, involving as 
 they do all the dark machinery of mind, all the mystery of its divine 
 revelations and future progression, and all the tremendous uncer- 
 tainties of its eternal good or ill, seemed to have dwelt in his mind, 
 to have burned in his thoughts, to have wrestled with his powers ; 
 and they gave to his manner the fervency, almost, of another world ; 
 while the exceeding paleness of liis countenance, and a tremulous- 
 ness of voice that seemed to spring from bodily weakness, touched 
 the strong workings of his mind with a pathetic interest, as if 
 the being, so easily absorbed in another world, could not be long 
 for this. 
 
 When the services were over, the congregation dispersed with 
 the air of people who felt rather than Jieard ; and all the criticism 
 that followed was similar to that of Deacon Hart an upright, 
 shrewd man who, as he lingered a moment at the church door, 
 turned and gazed with unwonted feeling at the young preacher. 
 
 "He's a blessed cre'tur!" said he, the tears actually making their 
 way to his eyes ; " I ha'u't been so near heaven this many a day. 
 He's a blessed cre'tur of the Lord that's my mind about him ! " 
 
 As for our friend James, he was at first sobered, then deeply 
 moved, and at last wholly absorbed, by the discourse ; and it was 
 only when meeting was over, that he began to think where he 
 really was. 
 
 " Well," said he, " I never was so sure I had a soul before ; I'll be 
 a different man, I know I will." 
 
 With all his versatile activity, James had a greater depth of men- 
 tal capacity than he himself was aware of, and he began to feel a 
 sort of electric affinity for a mind that had touched him in a way so 
 new, and when he saw the mild minister standing at the foot of the 
 pulpit stairs, he made directly towards him. 
 
 " I do want to hear you talk more," said he, with a face full of 
 earnestness; "may I walk home with you ?" 
 
 " It's a long and warm walk," said the minister, smiling. 
 
 " O, I don't care for that, if it does not trouble you" said James ; 
 and leave being gained, you might have seen them slowly passing 
 along under the trees, James pouring forth all the floods of inquiry 
 which the sudden impulse of his mind had brought out, and sup- 
 plying his guide with more questions and problems for solution, 
 # than he could have gone through with in a month. 
 
 "I cannot answer all your questions now," said he, as they 
 stopped at uncle Tim's gate. 
 
 - NVc-11, then, when will yon?" said James, eagerly. "Let me 
 come home with you to-nigh* 
 
 The good man smiled assent, and James departed so full of new 
 
 thoughts, that he passed Grace without even seeing her. From 
 
 that timo a friendship commenced between the two, which was a 
 
 beautiful illustration of the affinity of opposites. It was like a 
 
 4
 
 46 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 heaven with him ; and I think the Lord really did know what was 
 best, after all." 
 
 Our friend James seemed now to become the support of the 
 family, and the bereaved old man unconsciously began to transfer to 
 him the affections that had been left vacant. 
 
 "James," said he to him one day, "I suppose you know that you 
 are about the same to me as a son." 
 
 " I hope so, Uncle Tim," said James, kindly. 
 
 " Well, well, you'll go to college next week, and none o' y'r keep- 
 ing school to get along. I've got enough to bring you safe out 
 that is, if you'll be careful and stiddy. 
 
 James knew the heart too well to refuse a favor in which the 
 poor old man's mind was comforting itself ; he had the self-command 
 to abstain from any extraordinary expressions of gratitude, but took 
 it kindly as a matter of course. 
 
 " Dear Grace," said he to her, the last evening before he left 
 home, " I am changed ; we both are altered since we first knew 
 each other ; and now I am going to be gone a long time, but I am 
 sure " 
 
 He stopped to arrange his thoughts. 
 
 "Yes, you may be sure of all those things that you wish to say, 
 and cannot," said Grace. 
 
 " Thank you," said James ; then looking thoughtfully, he added, 
 
 " God help me. I believe I have mind enough to be what I mean 
 to ; but whatever I am or have, shall be given to God and my fel- 
 low-men ; and then, Grace, your brother in heaven will rejoice over 
 me." 
 
 " I believe he does now," said Grace. " God bless you, James ; 
 I don't know what would have become of us, if you had not been 
 here. 
 
 " Yes, you will live to be like him, and to do more good" she added, 
 her face brightening as she spoke, till James thought she really 
 
 must be right. 
 
 * # * ******** 
 
 It was five years after this, that James was spoken of as an 
 
 eloquent and successful minister in the county of C , and was 
 
 settled in one of its most influential villages. Late one autumn 
 evening, a tall, bony, hard-favored man was observed making his 
 way into the outskirts of the place. 
 
 " Halloa, there ! " he called to a man over the other side of the 
 fence ; " what town is this ere ?" 
 
 " It's Farmington, sir." 
 
 "Well, I want to know if you know any thing of a boy of mine 
 that lives here?" 
 
 " A boy of yours ? who ? " 
 
 "Why, I've got a boy here, that's living on the town; and I 
 thought I'd jest look him up." 
 
 " I don't know any boy that's livin' on the town : what's his name ? " 
 
 " Why," said the old man, pushing his hat off from his forehead, 
 " 1 believe they call him James Benton." 
 
 " James Benton ! why, that's'our minister's name."
 
 A NEW ENGLAND SK.HTCU. . 47 
 
 u O, wal, I believe he is the minister, come to think on't. He's a 
 boy o' mine, tho'. Where does he live ? " 
 
 "In that white house, that you see set back from the road there, 
 with all those trees round it." 
 
 At this instant, a tall, manly-looking person approached from bet- 
 hind. Have ue not seen that face before? It is a touch graver 
 than of old, and its lines have a more thoughtful significance; but 
 all the vivacity of James Benton sparkles in that quick smile, as his 
 eye falls on the old man. 
 
 "I thought you could not keep away from us long," said he, with 
 the prompt cheerfulness of his boyhood, and laying hold of both 
 Uncle Tim's hands. 
 
 They approached the gate ; a bright face glances past the win- 
 dow, and in a moment, Grace is at the door. 
 
 " Father ! dear lather ! " 
 
 " You'd better make believe be so glad," said Uncle Tim, his eye 
 glistening as he spoke. 
 
 "Come, come, father; I'm used to authority in these days," said 
 Grace, drawing him towards the house ; " so no disrespectful 
 speeches ; and now I shall fall upon and seize this great goat, and 
 away with your hat, and then you must sit down in this great chair." 
 
 "So, ho! Miss Grace," said Uncle Tirn; "you are at your old 
 tricks, ordering round as usual. Well, if I must, I must." So down 
 he sat. 
 
 "Father," said Grace, as he was leaving them, after a' few days' 
 stay, "it's thanksiriviiii: day next mouth, and you and mother must 
 come and stay with us." 
 
 Accordingly, the following month found Aunt Sally and Uncle 
 Tim by the minister's fireside, delighted witnesses of the thanks- 
 giving presents which a willing people were pouring in ; and 
 the next day they had once more the pleasure of seeing a son of 
 theirs in the sacred desk, and hearing a sermon that every body said 
 was the " best he ever preached ; " and it is to be remarked, by the 
 by, that this was the standing commentary on allJames's discourses; 
 .-> tliat it was evident that he was "going on unto perfection." 
 
 "There's a great deal that's worth havin' in this ere life, a'ter all," 
 said I'nclo Tim, as he sat musing over the coals of the bright even- 
 ing fire of that day, "that is, if we'd only take it when the Lord 
 - it in our way." 
 
 " Yes," said James ; " and let us only take it as we should, and this 
 li!'- will be clfcigrfulness, and the next fulness of joy." Mrs. H. E. 
 Jieecher Stoice. 
 
 MIAN'S DOUBLE DUTY. 
 
 ' As I am a compound of soul and body, I consider myself aa 
 bli^i-d LI a duiib'e. scheme of duties; and think I have not fulfilled 
 the 1. the day, when I do not thus employ the one in 
 
 lal)or and i-xcrcis!-, as well as the other in study and contempla- 
 tion." Mdison.
 
 44 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 " O, do not say so," said James; "think think what you have 
 done, if only for me ! God bless you for it. God ivill bless you for 
 it it will follow you to heaven it will bring me there. Yes, 
 I will do as you have taught me ! I will give my life, my soul, my 
 whole strength to it ; and then, you will not have lived in vain." 
 
 George smiled and looked upward; "his face was that of an 
 angel," and James, in his warmth, continued 
 
 " It is not / alone who can say this ; we all bless you ; every one 
 in this place blesses you ; you will be had in everlasting remem- 
 brance by some hearts here, I know" 
 
 "Bless God!" said George. 
 
 " We do," said James. 1 bless him that 1 ever knew you ; we all 
 bless him, and we love you, and simile/brewer." 
 
 The glow that had kindled over the pale face of the invalid, again 
 faded as he said, 
 
 "But, James, I must, I ought to tell my father and mother I 
 ought to, and how can I ? " 
 
 At that moment, the door opened, and Uncle Tim made lii.s 
 appearance. He seemed struck with the paleness of George's face ; 
 and, coming to the side of his bed, he felt his pulse, and laid his 
 hand anxiously on his forehead, and clearing his voice several times, 
 inquired, "if lie didn't feel a little better." 
 
 " No, father," said George ; then taking his hand, he looked anx- 
 iously in his face, and seemed to hesitate a moment. "Father," he 
 began, "you know that we ought to submit to God." 
 
 There was something in his expression at this moment, which 
 flashed the truth into the old man's mind ; he dropped his son's 
 hand with an exclamation of agony, and turning quickly, left the 
 room. 
 
 " Father ! father ! " said Grace, trying to rouse him, as he stood 
 with his arms folded by the kitchen window. 
 
 " Get away, child," said he, roughly. 
 
 " Father, mother says breakfast is ready." 
 
 " I don't want any breakfast," said he, turning short about. 
 " Sally, what are you fixing in that'are little poringer ? " 
 
 " O, it's only a little tea for George 'twill comfort him up, and 
 make him feel better, poor fellow." 
 
 "You won't make him feel better he's gone," said Uncle Tim, 
 hoarsely. 
 
 " O, dear heart ! no," said Aunt Sally. 
 
 i "Be still a contradicting me ; I won't be contradicted all the time 
 by nobody ! The short of the case is, that George is goin' to die, 
 just as we've got him ready to be a minister and all ; and I wish to 
 pity I was in my grave myself, and so" said Uncle Tim, as he 
 plunged out of the door, and shut it after him. 
 
 It is well for man, that there is one Being who sees the suffering 
 heart as if is, and not as it manifests itself through the repellences 
 of outward infirmity ; and who, perhaps, feels more for the stern 
 and wayward, than for those whose gentler feelings win for them 
 human sympathy. With all his singularities, there was in the heart 
 of Uncle Tim a depth of religious sincerity ; but there are few char- .
 
 A NEW ENGLAND SKETCH. 45 
 
 acters where religion does any thing more than struggle with 
 natural defectSflgnd modify what would else be far worse. 
 
 In this hour oT trial, all the native obstinacy and pertinacity of 
 the old man's character rose ; and, while he felt the necessity of 
 submission, it seemed impossible to submit ; and thus reproaching 
 liimsrlf, struggling in vain to repress the murmurs of nature, re- 
 pulsing from him all external sympathy, his mind was "tempest- 
 tost, and not comforted." 
 
 It was on the still afternoon of the following Sabbath, that he was 
 sent for, in haste, to the chamber of his son. He entered, and saw 
 that the hour was come. The family were all there ; Grace and 
 James, side by side, bent over the dying one, and his mother sat 
 afar off, with her face hid in her apron, " that she might not see the 
 death of the child." The aged minister was there, and the Bible 
 lay open before him. The father walked to the side of the bed. 
 He stood still, and gazed on that face, now brightening with "life 
 and immortality." The son lifted up his eyes ; he saw his father 
 smiled, and put out his hand. "I am glad you are come," said he. 
 " O, George, to the pity, don't, don't smile on me so ! I know what 
 is coming I have tried and tried, and I can't I can't have it so " 
 and the old man sunk by the side of the bed he covered hia 
 face his frame shook and he sobbed audibly. The room was 
 still as death there was none that seemed able to comfort him. 
 At last, the son repeated in a sweet, but interrupted voice, those 
 woids of man's best friend: "Let not your heart be troubled ; in 
 my Father's house are many mansions." 
 
 "Yes but I can't help being troubled I suppose the Lord's 
 will must be done but it'll kill me." 
 
 " O, father, don't don't break my heart," said the son, much 
 agitated. "I shall see^you again hi heaven, and you shall see me 
 again, and then 'your heart shall rejoice, and your joy no man 
 taketh from you.' " 
 
 " I never shall get to heaven, if I feel as I do now," said the old 
 man ; " I cannot have it so." 
 
 The mild face of the sufferer was overcast. "I wish he saw all 
 that / do," said he, in a low voice ; then looking towards the minis- 
 ter, he articulated, " Pray for us." 
 
 " They knelt in prayer. It was soothing, as real prayer always 
 must be ; and when they rose, every one seemed more calm. But 
 the sufferer was exhausted his countenance changed he looked 
 on his friends there was a faint whisper "Peace I leave with 
 you " and he was in heaven. 
 
 We need not dwell on what followed. The seed sown by the 
 righteous often blossoms over their grave ; and so it was with this 
 good man ; the words of peace which he spake unto his frinuls, 
 while he was yet with them, came into remembrance after he was 
 gone ; and though he was laid irrthe grave with many tears, yet it 
 was with softened and submissive hearts. 
 
 " The Lord bless him," said Uncle Tim, as he and James were 
 standing, last of all, over the grave. " I believe my heart's gone to
 
 46 Til* FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 heaven with him ; and I think the Lord really did know what was 
 best, after all." 
 
 Our friend James seemed now to become the support of the 
 family, and the bereaved old man unconsciously began to transfer to 
 him the affections that had been left vacant. 
 
 "James," said he to him one day, "I suppose you know that you 
 are about the same to me as a son." 
 
 " I hope so, Uncle Tim," said James, kindly. 
 
 " Well, well, you'll go to college next week, and none o' y'r keep- 
 ing school to get along. I've got enough to bring you safe out 
 that is, if you'll be capful and stiddy. 
 
 James knew the heart too well to refuse a favor in which the 
 poor old man's mind was comforting itself ; he had the self-command 
 to abstain from any extraordinary expressions of gratitude, but took 
 it kindly as a matter of course. 
 
 " Dear Grace," said he to her, the last evening before he left 
 home, " I am changed ; we both are altered since we first knew 
 each other ; and now I am going to be gone a long time, but I am 
 sure " 
 
 He stopped to arrange his thoughts. 
 
 "Yes, you may be sure of all those things that you wish to say, 
 and cannot," said Grace. 
 
 " Thank you," said James ; then looking thoughtfully, he added, 
 
 " God help me. I believe I have mind enough to be what I mean 
 to ; but whatever I am or have, shall be given to God and my fel- 
 low-men ; and then, Grace, your brother in heaven will rejoice over 
 me." 
 
 " I believe he does now," said Grace. " God bless you, James ; 
 I don't know what would have become of us, if you had not been 
 here. 
 
 " Yes, you will live to be like him, and to do more good" she added, 
 her face brightening as she spoke, till James thought she really 
 
 must be right. 
 
 # * * ******** 
 
 It was five years after this, that James was spoken of as an 
 
 eloquent and successful minister in the county of C , and was 
 
 settled in one of its most influential villages. Late one autumn 
 evening, a tall, bony, hard-favored man was observed making his 
 way into the outskirts of the place. 
 
 " Halloa, there ! " he called to a man over the other side of the 
 fence ; " what town is this ere ? " 
 
 " It's Farmington, sir." 
 
 "Well, 1 want to know if you know any thing of a boy of mine 
 that lives here?" 
 
 " A boy of yours ? who ? " 
 
 "Why, I've got a boy here, thafs living on the town; and I 
 thought I'd jest look him up." 
 
 " I don't know any boy that's livin' on the town : what's his name ? " 
 
 " Why," said the old man, pushing his hat off from his forehead, 
 " 1 believe they call him James Benton." 
 
 "James Benton! why, thatVour minister's name."
 
 A NEW ENGLAND SKETCH. - 47 
 
 u O, wal, I believe he is the minister, come to think on't. He's a 
 boy o' mine, tho*. Where does he live ? " 
 
 "In that white house, that you see set back from the road there, 
 with all those trees round it." 
 
 At this instant, a tall, manly-looking person approached from be~- 
 hiud. Have \ve not seen that face before? It is a touch graver 
 than of old, ;md its lines have a more thoughtful significance; but 
 all the vivacity of James Benton sparkles in that quick smile, as his 
 eye falls on the old man. 
 
 " I thought you could not keep away from us long," said he, with 
 the prompt cheerfulness of his boyhood, and laying hold of both 
 Uncle Tim's hands. 
 
 They approached the gate ; a bright face glances past the win- 
 dow, and in a moment, Grace is at the door. 
 
 Father ! dear father ! " 
 
 " You'd better make believe be so glad," said Uncle Tun, his eye 
 glistening as he spoke. 
 
 "Come, come, father; I'm used to authority in these days," said 
 Grace, drawing him towards the house ; " so no disrespectful 
 speeches ; and now I shall fall upon and seize this great goat, and 
 away with your hat, and then you must sit down hi this great chair." 
 
 " So, ho ! Miss Grace," said Uncle Tim; "you are at your old 
 tricks, ordering round as usual. Well, if I must, I must." So down 
 he sat. 
 
 " Father," said Grace, as he was leaving them, after a few days' 
 stay, "it's thanksgiving day next month, and you and mother must 
 come and stay with us." 
 
 Accordingly, the following month found Aunt Sally and Uncle 
 Tim by the minister's fireside, delighted witnesses of the thanks- 
 giving presents which a willing people were pouring in ; and 
 the next day they had once more the pleasure of seeing a son of 
 theirs in the sacred desk, and hearing a sermon that every body said 
 was the " best he ever preached ;" and it is to be remarked, by the 
 by, that this was the standing commentary on allJames's discourses; 
 so that it was evident that he was " going on unto perfection." 
 
 " There's a great deal that's worth havin' in this ere life, a'ter all," 
 said Uncle Tim, as he sat musing over the coals of the bright even- 
 iiiL r lire of that day, "that is, if we'd only take it when the Lord 
 it in our way." 
 
 " Yes," said James ; " and let us only take it as we should, and this 
 lift! will IK- cheerfulness, and the next fulness of joy." Mrs. //. E. 
 Beecher Sloicc. 
 
 VMAN'S DOUBLE DUTY. 
 
 " As I am a compound of eoul and body, I consider myself aa 
 obliged to a douh'c scheme of duties; and think I have not fulfilled 
 the In i he day, when I do not thus employ the one in 
 
 labor and exercise, as well as the other in study and contempla- 
 tion." Mdison.
 
 48 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 GALEN'S EXPERIENCE. 
 
 
 This distinguished individual, (says the Journal of Health,) who 
 wrote so much on the different branches of medicine, received 
 from the Roman emperor a medal with an honorable inscription, 
 the meaaiug of which was, The chief of the Romans to the chief of 
 physicians. Conscious, from the strength of his own passions, of 
 their ample sway over the body and its healthful movements, he 
 prescribed to himself a rule to which he adhered during a long 
 lifetime, viz., never to get irritated, or even to raise his hand to a slave. 
 He was born with an infirm constitution, and afflicted in his youth 
 with many and severe illnesses ; but having arrived at the age of 
 twenty-eight, and finding that there were sure rules for preserving 
 health, he observed them so carefully, that he never labored under 
 any distemper from that time, except occasionally a slight feverish 
 complaint for a single day, owing to the fatigue which attending 
 the sick necessarily brought on him. By this means he passed his 
 hundredth year. His advice is clear and direct. "I beseech all 
 persons," says he, " not to degrade themselves to a level with the 
 brutes, or the rabble, by eating and drinking promiscuously what- 
 ever pleases then' palates, or by indulging their appetites of every 
 kind. But whether they understand physic or not, let them consult 
 their reason, and observe what agrees and what does not agree 
 with them, that, like wise men, they may adhere to the use of such 
 things as conduce to their health, and forbear every thing which by 
 their own experience they find to do them hurt; and let them be 
 assured, that by a diligent observation and practice of this rule, 
 they may enjoy a good share of health, and seldom stand in need 
 of physic or physicians." 
 
 ABSTEMIOUS DIET OF A TRAVELLER, 
 
 Burckhardt, describing his journey through the deserts of Arabia, 
 uses the following language : 
 
 " The provision of my companions consisted only of flour; be- 
 sides flour, I earned some butter and dried lehen, (a kind of clicesc,) 
 which, when dissolved in water, forms not only a refreshing bever- 
 age, but is much recommended, as a preservative of health, when 
 travelling in summer. These were our only provisions. During 
 the journey we did not sup till after sunset, and "We breakfasted in 
 the morning upon a piece of dry bread, which we baked in tlie 
 ashes the preceding evening, without either salt or leaven. The 
 frugality of these Bedouins (Arabs of the desert) is indeed without 
 example. My companions, who walked at least five hours every 
 day, supported themselves for four-and-twenty hours with a piece 
 of dry, black bread, of about a pound and a half in weight, without 
 

 
 CLOTHING OP CHILDREN. 49 
 
 any other kind of nourishment. I endeavored, as much as possible, 
 to imitate this abstemiousness, being already convinced, from ex- 
 perience, that it is the best preservative against the effects of such a 
 journey." 
 
 CLOTHING OF CHILDREN. 
 
 BH 
 
 The fact cannot be too often repeated, nor can it be too seriously 
 urged upon parents, that the foundation of a graceful and just pro- 
 portion in the various parts of the body must be laid in infancy. A 
 light dress, which gives freedom to the functions of life and action, 
 is the only one adapted to permit perfect, unobstructed growth ; 
 the young fibres, unconstrained by obstacles imposed by art, will 
 shoot forth harmoniously into the form which nature intended. 
 The garments of children should be in every respect perfectly easy, 
 so as not to impede the freedom of their movements by bands or 
 ligatures upon the chest, the loins, the legs, or arms. With such 
 liberty, the muscles of the trunk and limbs will gradually assume 
 the fine swell and development which nothing short of uncon- 
 strained exercise can ever produce. The body will turn easily and 
 gracefully upon its firmly-poised base ; the chest will rise in noble 
 and healthy expanse, and the whole figure will assume that perfect- 
 ness of form, with which beauty, usefulness, and health, are so in- 
 timately connected. Journal of Health, 
 
 THE MAN OF LEISURE. 
 
 u You'll please not to forget to ask the place for me, sir," said a 
 pale, blue-eyed boy, as he brushed the coat of the Man of Leisure, 
 at bis lodgings. 
 
 "Certainly not," said Mr. Inklin; "I shall be going that way in a 
 day or two." 
 
 " Did you ask for the place for me yesterday ? " said the pale boy, 
 on the following day, with a quivering lip, as he performed the 
 same office. 
 
 "No," was the answer. " I was busy, but 1 will to-day." 
 
 " God help my poor mother," murmured the boy, and gazed list- 
 lessly on the cent Mr. Inklin laid in his hand. 
 
 The boy went home. He ran to the hungry children with the 
 loaf of lin-ad lie had earned by brushing the gentlemen's coats at 
 the hotel. They shouted with joy, and his mother held out her 
 emaciated hand for a portion, while a sickly smile flitted across his 
 face. 
 
 5
 
 50 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 "Mother, dear," said the boy, "Mr. Inklin thinks he can get me 
 the place, and I shall have three meals a" day; only think, mother, 
 three meals ! and it won't take me three minutes to run home and 
 share it with you." 
 
 The morning came, and the pale boy's voice trembled with 
 eagerness as he asked Mr. Inklin if he had applied for the place. 
 
 " Not yet," said the Man of Leisure ; " but there is time enough." 
 
 The cent that morning was wet with tears. Another morning 
 arrived. 
 
 "It is very thoughtless in the boy to be so late," said Mr. Inklin. 
 " Not a soul here to brush my coat ! " 
 
 The child came at length, his face swollen with weeping. 
 
 "I am sony to disappoint you," said the Man of Leisure; "but 
 the place in Mr. C 's store was taken up yesterday." 
 
 The boy stopped brushing, and burst afresh into tears. " I don't 
 care now," said he, sobbing, " we may as well starve. Mother is 
 dead." 
 
 The Man of Leisure was shocked, and he gave the boy a dollar. 
 
 Mr. Inklin was taken ill. He had said often that he thought 
 religion might be a good thing, and he meant to look into it. An 
 anxious friend brought a clergyman to him. He spoke tenderly, 
 but seriously, to the sufferer, of eternal truths. 
 
 " Call to-morrow," said the Man of Leisure, " and we will talk 
 about these matters." 
 
 That night the Man of Leisure died. 
 
 RETRENCHMENT. 
 
 " Why, Dick," said Beau Shatterly to his friend, Abel Drugget, 
 while standing in front of the Astor House, "why, Dick, hang 
 me if your coat ain't scoured," examining the article closely with 
 his eye-glass. "Yes," says Abel, "it is scoured. Having nearly 
 arranged my books and papers at the counting-house, and com- 
 promised with my creditors, I determined to hold a commission 
 over my wardrobe and other domestic matters, and turned out 
 three trunks, the capital of better and more extravagant days, and 
 overhauled the invoice, which proved to be quite profitable, I assure 
 you ; here, it is true, a coat wanted a cuff'; there a panty required 
 a button ; and what with dusting, brushing, scouring, mending, 
 darning, and so forth, I find myself provided for a whole twelve- 
 month and more, when I hope to resume specie payments." 
 " Well, then," said Beau Shatterly, " you have commenced on the 
 reform system." " To be sure I have. I cursed old Jackson until 
 I was tired ; abused Van Buren heartily ; prayed that some patriot 
 would lynch Kendall, Blair, and Benton, and when tired of suffer- 
 ing, cursing, ranting, raving, and so forth, I determined to endure 
 all without a murmur; to cut off every expense, and thus secure
 
 RETRENCHMENT. 51 
 
 myself against all future disaster. When the storm shall have 
 passed, 1 shall be ready again to set sail, with a diminished cargo, 
 and a weather-beaten ship, it is true, but 1 hope with the needful 
 to pay all. This, you will say, was a wise determination, and we 
 should all act upon it." "O, to be sure," said Beau Shatterly, " tin's 
 economy and retrenchment, as you call jj, is all mighty tine and 
 clever, but it is confoundedly inconvenient to us gentlemen ; the 
 deuce fly away with cotton and rum puncheons, and all such games 
 at hazard, which compel us to wear a scoured coat, and touch our 
 hats to parvenus of the day. Why, Abel, now I think of it, when 1 
 dined with you last Sunday, Polly Watts, the chambermaid, waited 
 upon us, and you gave me claret at $4 per dozen, instead of Gil 
 Davis's superb Nuptial Champaigne. Why, man, this is fairly cut- 
 ting off the supplies." "Aha, you found that out, did you? Yes, it 
 is all true ; I drummed up my troops, and called an inspection of 
 the forces one fine sunny morning last week. ' Polly Smallfry,' says 
 I to the cook, 'what wages do you receive?' 'Eight dollars a 
 month, and three for Patty the scullion.' 'You must take six, 
 Polly,' says I, ' and dismiss the scullion.' ' I can't, no how sum- 
 dever, take less.' ' Then your services are no longer required.' 
 ' Mimmy, how much do you receive as chambermaid ? ' ' Seven 
 dollars.' ' You must come down to five.' ' I sha'n't do no such 
 thing, sir, unless you will find me a silk dress, a cape, and a Tuscan 
 bonnet' 'Can't do it, Mimmy, so you must go.' 'Dick, I owe 
 you a month's wages as coachman ; here it is, and a recommenda- 
 tion for honesty and capacity.' 'Why, sir, do you give up the 
 coach?' 'Yes, I keep an omnibus now.' 'Bob, the waiter, you 
 are a good fellow, but as you have managed my marketing for six 
 years, and made all my purchases, I take it for granted that you 
 have laid up a snug little sum ; you are what I call comfortable.' 
 ' 1'retty well, sir, to do in the world. Polly Smallfry and I talk of 
 setting up a Welsh rabbit-house in Thames Street, next May.' 
 
 " Thus I went through my household troops, and soon placed the 
 whole concern on the peace establishment. Afterwards, my wife 
 and I mounted to the garret, and under the eaves of the house we 
 found three hundred bottles of Madeira wine, thirty years old; 
 besides one pipe that had been twice to India, four quarter casks of 
 pale Sherry, two of old Port, and ten cases of Lynch's Chateau 
 Morgeaux, which lay snug in the counter cellar. ' Wife,' says I, ' this 
 is too much of a fine article to keep in these times ; so 1 will send 
 for Duncan Pell, to taste to arrange to set up, and knock down.' 
 And it was done. Pursuing our search for superfluities, we en- 
 countered lots of silver fork?, silver tureens, silver waiters, silver 
 plateuus, silver pitchers, magnificent china dinner-sets, exquisite cut 
 iilass, superb paintings by Rafael, Rubens, Tintorretta, &c., &c. ; 
 pier and mantel glasses, almost as large and as lonir as a church 
 d< 10 r. ' Mary,' says I, ' say the word can you part with these things 
 without a sigh ? ' Willingly, cheerfully,' said she with a smile, a kind 
 look, and a squeeze of the hand. "How pathetic!" said Shatterly; 
 u \\hy, really, friend Abel, I must take a lesson or two from you 
 when I fail, split me." "Now take your eyes off the ladies, will
 
 - I 
 
 52 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 you, and look over this memorandum of the sum total of facilities 
 raised by these movables. 
 
 " Carriage and Pair, $1200; Barouche, 150; Buggy, 100; Sk-io], 
 60; Pony, 70; Coach Dogs, 40; Wines, 3,200 ; Plate, 1,500; China 
 and Glass, 500; Paintings, 1,400; Lookinar-Glasses, 800. Total, 
 $9,020. 
 
 "Here's raising the wind for you, and without missing it, my fine 
 fellow; and do you wish to know what I have done with this 
 money ? bought a snug farm of sixty acres, neat house, good garden, 
 outhouses, &c., not many miles from the city, settled it on my wife 
 and young ones, and shall plant my corn and potatoes, raise my 
 own pigs and poultry, milk my cows, churn my butter, bake my 
 bread, and lay my own eggs ; and when the storm is over, I shall, 
 I hope, be found again in my roundabout, selling goods in mod- 
 eration, at short credits and sure profits. So, Shatterly, my boy, hold 
 up your finger to that omnibus driver, and let him take me home 
 to early tea." 
 
 TOM TOWSON. 
 
 Tom was poor, and had but a sorry education ; btit he was very 
 quick to learn, and some said that Tom had the clearest head in 
 the country. Tom lived on Poverty Plantation, as he called it, with 
 old widow Towson, his mother, and the farm, which was small, was 
 all they had between them. Tlie fact is, Tom was a handsome fol- 
 low, in homespun or broadcloth. One cloudy afternoon, Tom went 
 down into Silver Valley, to see old Ridgely about a division line on 
 Joe Gibson's plat of Poverty Plantation. 
 
 A storm came on just as he drew up opposite Col. Ridgely's lane 
 gate. Ridgely was a proud old chap rich too and report said 
 that his daughter Lucy was very handsome. Now, Lucy had been 
 brought up in the best of style, and was a high lady in the neighbor- 
 hood. Some said that she had refused several capital offers ; but 
 that's neither here nor there, as Tom, you know, could not think 
 of her. 
 
 Well, the storm raged, and in rides Tom hooks his horse to Tin 
 apple tree goes up the wide steps, and ends with a loud knock at 
 the door. Jim Squirrel opened the door, an old negro, who had 
 carried water to Tom's father, when he (Tom's father,) cradled in 
 llidgcly's green fields. 
 
 The colonel in ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir; come in," was the ready response. 
 
 Tom was led into a large, old-fashioned parlor, where he found 
 the colonel reading, his wife sewing, and his daughter writing. 
 The old man nodded, without rising, and told Tom to sit down ; 
 while the old lady very reservedly drew her chair closer to the wall. 
 Tom felt a little curious. The daughter, too, threw two or three
 
 DEFENCE OF THE NORTH. - 53 
 
 beautiful glances at him, which made him feel still more curious, 
 lie made so many blunders in telling his business, that a kind smile 
 bfirau t<> show itself upon the laces of all in the room, which en- 
 couraged Tom, who instantly recovered his self-possession, and 
 added to their mirth by many intentional errors and oddities. 
 
 " Colonel 1 ," said Tom, " it is quite out of the question for us to 
 settle this now." 
 
 " Why so? " inquired the colonel. 
 
 "On account of your daughter, sir," replied Tom. 
 
 " My daughter ! " returned the colonel, astonished ; " pray, what 
 has she to do with it ?" 
 
 " Why," added Tom, " she has knocked me into a cocked hat 
 with those black eyes of hers." 
 
 The old lady drew up, although she could not suppress a smile, 
 while the daughter blushed, in spite of her attempts to laugh con- 
 temptuously. As for the old colonel, he was so astonished at Tom's 
 impudence, that for a while he lost the use of his tongue. They all 
 looked at Tom in silence ; and, in the mean time, they remarked 
 his fine figure, high forehead, and intelligent eye ; while the irre- 
 sistible good humor of his countenance entirely disarmed the colo- 
 nel, who burst out with a hearty laugh at Lucy. Miss Lucy curled 
 her sweet lip into a sort of good-humored scorn, and hastily with- 
 drew. 
 
 The next thing we see, is Tom in his homespun, seated at the 
 supper table, delighting the colonel with his droll stories, compli- 
 menting the daughter, and flattering the old lady. The old lady put 
 a plenty of sugar in Tom's tea, and Miss Lucy was a full half hour 
 in drinking one cup. 
 
 Tom took leave shortly after supper. 
 
 " Plague take the fellow ! " cried the old man, as Tom rode out 
 into the lane, and the tears of joy still stood in his eye. 
 
 " He is quite handsome," quietly remarked the old lady. 
 
 " Not he," rejoined Miss Lucy ; and a few months after she was 
 Tom's wife Scenes in the Wtst* 
 
 DEFENCE OF THE NORTH. 
 
 While the bill, imposing additional duties on certain public offi- 
 cers, as depositaries of the public moneys, was under consideration, 
 at the extra session of Congress, in 1837, Mr. Pickens, of South 
 Carolina, attempted to draw a parallel between southern slaves and 
 northern laborers, intimating that the latter were the subjects of 
 ownership, as well as the former; and, by way of offset to the oper- 
 ation* of abolitionists, he threatened to preach insurrection to 
 northern laborers. To which Mr. NAYLOR, of Pennsylvania, said 
 
 I am a northern laborer. Ay, sir, it has been my lot to have in- 
 herited, as my only patrimony, at the early age of nine years, nothing 
 but naked orphanage and utter destitution ; houseless and homeless, 
 5*
 
 54 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 fatherless and penniless, 1 was obliged, from that day forward, to 
 earn my daily bread by my daily labo^ And now, sir, when I take 
 my seat in this hall, as the free representative of a free people, am I 
 to be sneered at as a northern laborer, and degraded into a compari- 
 son with the poor, oppressed, and suffering negro slave ? Is such 
 the genius and spirit of our institutions ? If it be, then did our 
 lathers fight, and bleed, and struggle, and die, in vain ! 
 
 But, sir, the gentleman has misconceived the spirit and tendency 
 of northern institutions. He is ignorant of northern character. 
 He has forgotten the history of his country. Preach insurrection to 
 the northern laborers ! Preach insurrection to me ! Who are the 
 northern laborers ? The history of your country is their history. 
 The renown of your country is their renown. The brightness of 
 their doings is emblazoned on its every page. Blot from your 
 annals the deeds and the doings of northern laborers, and the history 
 of your country presents but a universal blank. 
 
 Sir, who was he that disarmed the Thunderer, wrested from his 
 grasp the bolts of Jove, calmed the troubled ocean, became the cen- 
 tral sun of the philosophical system of his age, shedding his bright- 
 ness and effulgence on the whole civilized world ; whom the great 
 and mighty of the earth delighted to honor ; who participated in the 
 achievement of your independence ; prominently assisted in mould- 
 ing your free institutions, and the beneficial effects of whose wis- 
 dom will be felt to the last moment of " recorded time " ? Who, sir, 
 I ask, was he ? A northern laborer a Yankee tallow-chandler's 
 son a printer's runaway boy ! 
 
 And who, let me ask the honorable gentleman, who was he that, 
 in the days of our revolution, led forth a northern army yes, an 
 army of northern laborers and aided the chivalry of South Caro- 
 lina in their defence against British aggression, drove the spoilers 
 from their firesides, and redeemed her fair fields from foreign in- 
 vaders ? Who was he ? A northern laborer, a Rhode Island black- 
 smith the gallant General Greene who left his hammer and his 
 forge, and went forth conquering and to conquer, in the battles for 
 our independence ! And will you preach insurrection to men like 
 these ? 
 
 Sir, our country is full of the achievements of northern laborers ! 
 Where is Concord, and Lexington, and Princeton, and Trenton, 
 and Saratoga, and Bunker Hill, but in the north ? And what, sir, 
 has shed an imperishable renown on the never-dying names of 
 those hallowed spots, but the blood and the struggles, the high 
 daring and patriotism, and sublime courage of northern laborers ? 
 The whole north is an everlasting monument of the freedom, virtue, 
 intelligence, and indomitable independence of northern laborers ! 
 Go, sir, go preach insurrection to men like these ! 
 
 The fortitude of the men of the north under intense suffering, for 
 liberty's sake, has been almost godlike ! History has so recorded 
 it Who comprised that gallant army, that, without food, without 
 pay, shelterless, shoeless, penniless, and almost naked, in that 
 dreadful winter the midnight of our revolution whose wander- 
 ings could be traced by their blopd-tracks in the snow; whom
 
 DEFENCE OP THE NORTH. 55 
 
 no arts could seduce, no appeal lead astray, no suffering disaffect ; 
 but who, true to their country and its holy cause, continued to fight 
 the good fight of liberty, until it finally triumphed? Who, sir, were 
 these men ? Why, northern laborers ; yes, sir, northern laborers ! 
 
 \Vlio, sir, were Roger Sherman and but it is idle to enumerate^ 
 To name the northern laborers, who have distinguished themselves,' 
 and illustrated the history of their country, would require days of 
 the time of this house. Nor is it necessary. Posterity will do them 
 justice. Their deeds have been recorded in characters of fire ! 
 
 And such are the working men of the north at this time. They 
 have not degenerated; they are, in all respects, worthy of their in- 
 telligent and sturdy sires. Whose blood was so profusely shed, 
 during the last war, on the Canada lines but that of the northern 
 laborers? Who achieved the glorious victories of Peny and 
 M'Donough on the lakes but the northern laborers ? Yes, they 
 " met the enemy and made them thtirs." Who, sir, have made our 
 ships the models for all Europe, and sent forth, in the late war, 
 those gallant vessels that gave our little navy the first place in the 
 marine annals of the world, and covered our arms on the ocean in a 
 braze of glory but the skill, and intellect, and patriotism of the 
 northern laborers ? And who, sir, manned these vessels, and went 
 forth, and, for the first time, humbled the British lion, on the ocean 
 
 but the northern laborers ? And who, sir, was he, that noble tar, 
 who, wounded, and bleeding, and mangled, and, to all appearance, 
 lifeless, on the deck of one of our ships, on hearing that the flag of 
 the enemy had struck, and that victory had perched on the proud 
 banner of his country raised up his feeble, mangled form, opened 
 his languid eyes once more to the light of heaven, waved his palsied 
 li.'tnd round his head in token of his joy, and fell back and died. 
 Who, sir, was he ? Why, a northern laborer a northern laborer ! 
 And yet these men are the slaves of the north, to whom the hon- 
 orable gentleman is about to preach insurrection ! 
 
 I appeal to the representatives of Pennsylvania. I ask you, sirs, 
 who is Joseph Ritner that distinguished man, who, at this very 
 moment, fills the executive chair of your great state ; a man, who, 
 in all that constitutes high moral and intellectual worth, has few 
 superiors in this country ; one who has all the qualities of head 
 and heart necessary to accomplish the great statesman, and who 
 possesses, in the most enlarged degree, all the elements of human 
 greatness? Who, sirs, is he? A northern laborer a Pennsyl- 
 vania wagoner who, for years, drove his team from Pittsburg to 
 Philadelphia, " over the mountain and over the moor," not " whistling 
 as he went ? " no, sir, but preparing himself) then, by deep cogita- 
 tion, and earnest application, for the high destiny which the future 
 had in store for him. And who, let me ask the same gentlemen, 
 who is James Todd, the present attorney general of Pennsylvania 
 distinguished for the extent of his legal acquirements, for the com- 
 prehensive energy of his mind, for his strength of argument, and 
 vigorous elocution ? Who, sir, is he ? He, too, is a northern laborer 
 
 a Pennsylvania wood-chopper in early childhood, a destitute, 
 desolate orphan, bound out, by the overseers of the poor, as an ap-
 
 56 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 prentice to a laborer ! These, sir, are some of the fruits of northern 
 institutions ; some of the slaves to whom the honorable gentleman 
 will have to preach insurrection ! 
 
 Mr. Chairman, it is not the first time that I have heard a parallel run 
 between the slaves of the south and the working men of the north. 
 For a while, sir, that parallel was made as to the relative condition 
 of the free negroes of the north and the slaves of the south. Re- 
 cently, however, some of those who advocate the surpassing excel- 
 lence of the slave institutions of the south, have taken a bolder and 
 more daring stand. Racking their brains for arguments and illus- 
 trations, to justify slavery as it prevails among them, they have 
 hazarded the bold proposition, that slavery exists in eveiy country ; 
 and that, in the north, the operatives, though nominally free, are, in 
 fact, the slaves of the capitalists. Such a proposition is monstrous. 
 I tell you, sir, gentlemen deceive themselves. They slander the 
 free institutions of their country. They wrong the most intelligent 
 and enterprising class of men on earth. I know them well ; I have 
 long been associated with them. I have seen them form themselves 
 into libraries and other associations, for intellectual improvement. I 
 have seen them avail themselves of every leisure moment for mental 
 culture. I have seen them learned in the languages, skilled in the 
 sciences, and informed in all that is necessary to give elevation to 
 the character of man, and to fit him for the high destinies for which 
 he was designed. Let the honorable gentleman go among them, 
 and he will find them in all respects equal to those who make it 
 their boast that they own all the laborers in the south. Yes, sir, as 
 well qualified to become honorable rulers of a free people having 
 heads fitted for the highest councils, and fearless hearts and sinewy 
 arms for the enemies of this great nation. 
 
 Mr. Chairman, I call upon gentlemen of the north to bear witness 
 to the truth of what I have said ; I call upon them to look back to 
 the days of their childhood, and say whom they have seen attain 
 honor, distinction, wealth, and affluence. Are they not the work- 
 ing, the industrious parts of society ? And do not the institutions 
 of the north necessarily lead to such results? Sir, when I pause, 
 for a moment, and behold what are now the little, destitute playmates 
 of my childhood, I am overwhelmed with astonishment. Some of 
 them have gone forth from their homes, become drafters and signers 
 of declarations of independence, founders of new empires, breakers 
 of the chains of despotism; and the earth, even in their youth, has 
 drunk up their blood, shed willingly in the cause of the rights of 
 man. Some have ministered at the altar of their divine Master. 
 Some have led the bar, adorned the senate, illustrated the judiciary ; 
 and others have wandered in the flowery field of literature, trod in 
 the cool, tranquillizing paths of philosophy, delved in the depths of 
 science, and compassed the world with their enterprise. In a word, 
 civilization has no pursuit that they have not already honored and 
 adorned. And yet these men are some of the fruits of those odious 
 institutions, against which the eloquent gentleman has undertaken 
 MB crusade. 
 
 Sir, it is the glory of the northern institutions, that they give to
 
 DEFENCE OP THE NORTH. . 57 
 
 every man, poor and rich, high and low, the same fair play. They 
 j'l.-ici- the honors, emoluments, and distinctions of the country, be- 
 fore him, and say, " Go, run your race for the prize the reward 
 shall encircle the brow of the most worthy." Thus it is, that every 
 one feels and knows that he has a clear field before him ; and thaty 
 with industry, prudence, and perseverance, he can command success 
 in any honorable undertaking. He knows that his industry is his 
 own ; his efforts are his own ; and that every blow he strikes, whilst it 
 redounds to his own immediate advantage, contributes also to the 
 good of the community, and the glory and renown of his country. 
 All honorable employments are open to him; the halls of legislation 
 are open to him ; the bar is open to him ; the fields of science are 
 before him ; there is no barrier between him and the object of his 
 ambition but such as industry and perseverance may overcome. 
 
 Look at the workings of their institutions upon the appearance of 
 the north. Look at her mighty cities, her forests of masts, her 
 smiling villages, her fertile fields, her productive mines, her numer- 
 ous charities, her ten thousand improvements. Behold my own, my 
 native state. Pennsylvania is intellectualized under their auspices. 
 Her soil, and hills, and valleys, and rocks, and everlasting moun- 
 tains, live and breathe under the animating influence of her intelli- 
 gent and hard-working population ; every stream feeds its canal ; 
 every section of country has its railroad ; distance is annihilated ; the 
 flinty ribs of her rocky mountains are driven asunder; the bowels 
 of the earth yield forth their treasures, and the face of the earth 
 blooms, and blossoms, and fructifies like a paradise. And all this, all 
 this is the result of the intelligence, industry, and enterprise of 
 northern laborers, fostered by the genial influence of their insti- 
 tutions. 
 
 Nor are their efforts confined to their own country alone. Their 
 industry and enterprise compass the whole earth. There is not a 
 wave under heaven that their keels have not parted not a breeze 
 ever stirred to which they have not unfurled the starry banner of 
 their country. Go to the frozen ocean of the north, and you will find 
 them there ; to the ocean in the extreme south, and you will find 
 them there. Nature has no difficulty that they have not overcome 
 
 the world no limit that they have not attained. 
 
 In every department of mind do the institutions of the north exert 
 a wholesome, a developing influence. Sir, it was but a few days 
 since, that you saw the members of this house gathered round the 
 electro-magnetic machine of Mr. Davenport There they stood, 
 mute and motionless; beholding, for the first time, the secret, 
 sublime, and mysterious principles of nature applied to mechanics ; 
 and there was the machine, visible to all eyes, moving with the 
 rapidity of lightning, without any apparent cause. But the genius 
 that made the application of this sublime and mysterious influence, 
 who is he but a laboring, hard-working blacksmith of the north ? 
 
 Sir, where do learning, literature, and science flourish but in 
 the north ? Where does the press teem with the products of mind 
 
 but in the north ? Where are the scientific institutions, the im- 
 mense libraries, rivalling almost, at this early day, Europe's vast
 
 58 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 accumulations but in the north ? And who, sir, gives form, and 
 grace, and life, and proportion, to the shapeless marble but the 
 sculptor of the north? Yes, sir, and there too does the genius of 
 the pencil contribute her glowing creations to the stock of northern 
 renown. To northern handiwork are you indebted for the magnifi- 
 cence of this mighty capitol. And those noble historical pieces, 
 now filling the pannels of the rotunda, which display the beginning, 
 progress, and consummation of your revolution, and give to all pos- 
 terity the living forms and breathing countenances of the fathers of 
 your republic; they, too, are the works of a northern artist! 
 
 But, before I conclude this branch of my subject, let me make 
 one observation that I had almost forgotten. The gentleman seems 
 to think that our workmen must, of necessity, be the passive instru- 
 ments of our capitalists. His idea of the power and influence of 
 wealth, controlling the very destinies of the man who labors, must be 
 derived from the institutions of his own generous south ; where, he 
 frankly avows, that the capitalist does absolutely own the laborers. 
 His views are, however, utterly inapplicable to the north. Who are 
 the northern capitalists of to-day, but the penniless apprentices of 
 yesterday ? Sir, in the north there is scarcely a class of men exist- 
 ing exclusively as capitalists. The character of capitalist and laborer 
 is there united in the same person. In ninety-nine cases out of a 
 hundred, he who is a capitalist has become so by his own industry 
 and perseverance. He begins as a humble " laborer " his industry, 
 virtue, and integrity, his only capital. He gradually accumulates. 
 Every day of toil increases his means. His means are then united to 
 his labor, and he receives the just and honest profits of them both. 
 Thus he goes on, joining his accumulations with his labor, receiving 
 the profits of his capital and his toil, scattering the fruits of his efforts 
 abroad for the benefit of society, living in manly independence, and 
 laying up a stock of comfort and enjoyment for his declining years. 
 Such was the rich Girard, the "merchant and mariner," as he 
 styles himself in his last will. He began his career a destitute 
 cabin-boy. And such are the capitalists all over the north. They 
 were all laborers some few years since ; and the humble operative 
 of to-day must and urill be the wealthy capitalist in some few years 
 to come ; and so far are the institutions of the north from retarding 
 his advance, that they encourage him, aid him, cheer, cherish, and 
 sustain him in his onward career. 
 
 YANKEE ENTERPRISE AND INDUSTRY. M. Chevalier, in his Let- 
 ters on North America, speaking of the enterprise and industry of 
 the New Englanders, says "At Baltimore even as at Boston, in 
 New Orleans as at Salem, in New York as at Portland, if they cite 
 you a merchant, who, by intelligent combinations, has realized and 
 preserved a large fortune, and if you demand whence that man comes 
 'It is a Yankee,' is the reply. If, in the south, you pass before a 
 plantation which appears better regulated than all the others, with 
 fine avenues, and the habitations of the negroes better arranged and 
 more comfortable ' Ah ! ' says one to you, ' this belongs to a man 
 from New England.' "
 
 DEFENCE OF THE NORTH. 
 
 69 
 
 INDEPENDENCE OF MASSACHUSETTS. It has been long main- 
 tained that the South holds the destiny of the North in the hollow 
 of her hand. The idea is truly ridiculous. We have seen enough of 
 the world, in both hemispheres, to be convinced that energetic and 
 persevering industry is more to be depended on than either climate 
 or soil, or thun both, though favorably combined, in the race of 
 national prosperity. If Massachusetts, with a population not greater 
 than that of a single southern state North Carolina, for instance, 
 can command eighty-six millions of dollars, annually, by her 
 manufacturing industry alone, her alleged dependence on us is a 
 matter of moonshine and absurdity, which should not be counte- 
 nanced by citizens of common rationality. Let us cease, therefore, 
 to believe that we sustain her, and that she must perish if we do 
 not smile upon her. Wisdom would teach us to imitate her in- 
 dustry, and folly alone will direct us in a different course. New- 
 btrn (jV. C.) Spectator. 
 
 COMPLIMENT TO NEW ENGLA>D. The following beautiful com- 
 pliment to New England was pronounced by the Hon. WM. B. 
 SHEPARD, of North Carolina, in the course of a speech delivered 
 in the United States' House of Representatives : 
 
 "A few summers ago, while flying from the demon of ill health, I 
 visited New England. I found her towns and villages crowded 
 with an industrious and enterprising population, her hills and valleys 
 redolent with health, prosperity, and contentment; every mind 
 seemed to be intent, every head was occupied ; the world does not 
 contain a more flourishing community. There the advantages of 
 education are extended to the poorest individual in society, and that 
 society receives its remuneration in his sober, industrious, and 
 economical habits. If the divine Plato were alive, he would no 
 longer draw upon his imagination for a specimen of a perfect re- 
 public ; he would there find a community, in which the humblest 
 individual has the same voice with his most wealthy neighbor, in 
 laying the public burdens for the public welfare. I asked myself if 
 it were possible, that the prosperity of this people could be the hot- 
 bed production of an artificial system, or rather if it were not the 
 result of a long-continued toil of an industry that never tired 
 of an economy that never slept. I looked upon the scene around 
 me with no feelings of murmuring discontent I felt the more re- 
 joiced because it was part of my country." 
 
 A PEEP INTO THE KITCHEN. 
 
 "My great uncle, one of the early settlers in New York, amuses 
 himself, in his green old apo, by "walking leisurely through the 
 streets of the city, to observe its great and growing importance, and 
 to trace, if possible, amidst splendid bouses and elegant squares,
 
 GO THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 the spots on which his favorite cherry trees once stood, or the ponda 
 of fresh water in which he angled for trout. He is an acute 
 observer of manners, habits, and customs, and the strength of his 
 memory enables him to estimate every thing of the present day, by 
 comparison with former times. " Hans," said he to me the other 
 day, " do you see your old Aunty there, sitting in the green arm- 
 chair, knitting ? She has not altered these fifty years she was 
 once younger, to be sure, and so was I ; but we have observed no 
 alteration in each other ; as we began life, so we have proceeded, 
 and so we hope to end it uniform, industrious, and economical ; 
 but, Hans, people change very much with the times. Would you 
 believe it, last night I was in a passion ? " " No," said I ; " in a passion ? 
 Impossible." " You shall hear," said he. " Last night, about ten 
 o'clock, as I was sitting with my specs on, reading the Evening 
 Post, mammy sat there where she now sits, combing Chequita, the 
 lap-dog, suddenly I heard a rat-tat-too at the door. " Gemini ! " 
 said I, " here 1 :? bad news." I rose, took the candle, went through the 
 hall, and opened the door, when a lady, elegantly dressed, entered. 
 " Good evening, madam," said I, bowing to the ground ; u . will you do 
 me the honor to walk into the parlor ; it is quite comfortable ; no one 
 is there but my wife, and I shall be happy to attend to any business 
 you may have with me." To my dismay and astonishment, she irf- 
 terrupted me with a loud and vulgar laugh, and an ejaculation of 
 " Don't you know me ?" 1 lifted the candle under a huge black bonnet, 
 with a scoop as large as the rim of a butter tub, with a plume of black, 
 nodding feathers dangling on the top, and found that it was Polly 
 Watkins, my cook. "Why, Polly," says I, "where have you been, 
 woman ? " " O," says she, brushing by me with an air, and making 
 for the kitchen door ; " I've been at a party ! " "A party ! prodigious." 
 I returned to the parlor, took my seat near the fire, and fell musing. 
 " Ah ! Hans, what a change in men, and women also ! In my time, 
 the maids were a different order of nobility than they are now. The 
 first maid I hired came from Sopus : her name, I remember well, 
 was Hannah Snidiker. You remember her, too, mammy ; she was 
 a stout Dutch girl of twenty, with brawny arms, flesh firm as fresh 
 streaked bass, and cheeks as broad and as red as pulpit cushions. 
 She wore a striped linsey-woolsey petticoat, which reached grace- 
 fully a little below the knee, exhibiting a stout and well-turned leg 
 and ankle, and a foot sufficiently expansive to sustain her portly 
 figure. She had on black leather shoes, thick soles, high heels, and 
 covered with a thumping pair of brass buckles, which looked like 
 burnished gold. She was the girl to wash, scour, and work. We 
 gave her five pounds a year wages, and she laid it nearly all by. 
 The maids generally were pretty much the same in those times ; 
 they were always at home ; and if they read, it was a page or two in 
 Thomas Aquinas, the Pilgrim's Progress, or Poor Richard's Almanac, 
 with a chapter in the Bible on Sunday. They allowed no man to 
 get the advantage of them, if resistance could prevent it, and we 
 were never at a loss, in those times, to distinguish the maid from 
 the mistress ; but now, Hans," said the old gentleman, raising his 
 hands and eyes, " what a change ! Polly Watkins, my cook, who
 
 A PEEP INTO THE KITCHEN. . Cl 
 
 is up to her elbows in grease all day, dresses like a lady of fashion, 
 and hops off to a party at night. The other day I accidentally 
 strolled iuto the chamber of my god-daughter, Magdalena; and be- 
 fore the glass stood that pert and pretty little chambermaid, Susan 
 Augusta Georgiana Matilda Willis. I paused to examine hen. 
 movements unseen. She emptied a considerable portion of my 
 god-daughter's honey water into her hands, which she rubbed 
 through her fine, glossy hair, using the brushes and combs at the 
 same time. After disposing of the curls in the most tasty style, 
 she arranged her beau-catchers, beau-killers, and drops, in a very 
 attractive manner; then, seizing a coarse towel, she wiped her 
 cheeks with considerable violence, to give them a color. While 
 these ceremonies were progressing, I was shielded from observa- 
 tion by a part of the festoons and drapery of the bed, and stood in 
 mute astonishment, leaning rny chin upon my silver-headed cane, 
 and with a countenance ' more in sorrow than in anger.' Having 
 accommodated her hair and cheeks, the young wench began to un- 
 pin her ruffles. ' Gadzooks,' says I to myself, 'I hope she is not going 
 to undress before me;' for, old as I am, Hans, I should not have 
 liked any one to have popped in upon us. Well, Hans, this little 
 fille-de-chambre proceeded to make up her toilet, and drew from 
 her bosom a long, wide, misshapen piece of black whalebone, an 
 invention to make women hold their heads up. Just at that 
 monientjgnaminy's lap-dog began to bark, and 1 stole softly down 
 into the parlor. O temporal O the maids! O the manners !" The 
 old gentleman rapped his silver snuff-box pretty hard, and, with a 
 grim visage, covered his nose and lips with rappee. "Not long 
 ago, Hans," said he, "I pulled off my hat, and made a low bow to 
 my amiable friend, Mrs. Rose-in-Bloom, in Broadway ; but, alas ! it 
 was only to her hat and shawl, which covered the slender person 
 of her mail I, Margery. The other night, when I visited the theatre, 
 I found myself comfortably seated in the dress boxes, between a 
 waiter and a maid of one of our flourishing boarding-houses. Now, 
 Hans, I am not aristocratical ; and well-behaved persons are enti- 
 tled to respect, whatever may be their condition in life ; but look at 
 tin- evil example of maids, receiving five or ten dollars per month, 
 dressing extravagantly, and dashing like people of fashion. How 
 they contrive to manage it with so slender an income, is to me ex- 
 traordinary; they must have 'funds available.' Yesterday, Polly 
 Watkins, Susan, and Quash, called upon me, as a committee from 
 the kitchen, to remontrate upon the compulsory process of using 
 Has ana instead of loaf sugar in their tea; and they absolutely 
 .begged leave to present a bill for the establishment of a 'home de- 
 partment ' in the kitchen, to draw similar supplies appropriated ibr 
 the parlor." 
 
 6
 
 62 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 BLUE STOCKINGS. 
 
 The appellation of " Blue Stocking " is understood to have origi- 
 nated in the dress of old Benjamin Stillingfleet (grandson of the 
 bishop) as he used to appear at the parties of Mrs. Montagu, in 
 Portman Square. He was jilted by a mistress, to whose remem- 
 brance he remained faithful ; and, in spite of a disappointment, 
 which he then deeply felt, remained to the last one of the most 
 amiable of men and entertaining of companions. Mr. Stillingfleet 
 almost always wore blue worsted stockings, and whenever he was 
 absent from Mrs. Montagu's evening parties, as his conversation was 
 very entertaining, the company used to say, " We can do nothing 
 without the blue, stockings ; " and by degrees the assemblies were 
 called blue stocking clubs, and learned people blue stockings. 
 
 A MATRIMONIAL BARGAIN. 
 
 Urby. Bags, my old friend, how are you ? 
 
 Bags. Ah! Urby, my old boy, how goes it? 
 
 Urby. Why, tol-lol. I say, Bags, I want to speak to you. 
 
 Sags. Ah ! well ; what's it about ? 
 
 Urby. Why, it's something private ; so let's go into our own 
 room. 
 
 Sags. Come along, then. Now, what's it ? Out with it. 
 
 Urby. I say what do you think? My nevvy has taken a liking 
 to your Bella. 
 
 Bags. No ! bless me ! You don't say so. 
 
 Urby. True, upon my life ; at least, so he tells me. And, from 
 what I can understand, she likes him. 
 
 Bags. How very odd ! And yet it isn't neither, now I come to 
 think of it ; for I've thought, for some weeks past, there was some- 
 thing queer in his manner. I've thought, somehow, when I've been 
 talking to him upon business, that his mind was running upon some- 
 thing sweeter than sugars. 
 
 Urby. That was it, as sure as a gun. 
 
 Bags. And I remember, too, Mrs. B., the other day, saying, in her 
 romantic way, that she suspected they were doing a bit of tender 
 together. But I paid no attention to that at the time. 
 
 Urby. Mrs. B. was right, I'll answer for it Women soon see into 
 the thick of these matters. Why, Lord bless you! a woman would 
 see through a love affair if even it were packed as close as a bale of 
 cotton. 
 
 Bags. But I say, old boy ; you, an old bachelor ! where did you 
 , pick up your knowledge of these matters ? 
 
 Urby. Nonsense; that's neither here nor there. Come, now, to
 
 A MATRIMONIAL BARGAIN. - 63 
 
 the point I say, Bags, what say you to their making a match of 
 it, eh ? 
 
 Bags. Why I don't see any harm in it But supposing we do 
 make a match of it, what do you intend to do for your nevvy ? 
 
 Urby. First of all, tell me what you intend to do for Bella or 
 for him, which will be all one. 
 
 Bags. No, no; that's not at all business-like. I can't be buyer 
 and seller too. You opened the transaction ; so you must speak 
 first. 
 
 Urby. Well, Til tell you what. You, as eldest partner in the 
 house, have four-eighths of the business, Bales has three-eighths, 
 Harry has one eighth. Now, give him one of your eighths, which 
 will make his share in the house a quarter, and I'll give him five 
 thousand pounds down, as clean as a whistle. 
 
 Bags. An eighth ! I say, my old buck, you hav'n't forgotten how 
 to make a bargain. But, let me see; an eighth! (He calculates.) 
 Eighths in the um um go five and carry two; fives in the 
 um um and there remains um um. Well; that's a good 
 deal ; but I'll give it. 
 
 Urby. You will? Very well; done. 
 
 Bags. And done. And there's my hand to it. But, I say, you'll 
 give the young folks five hundred pounds for outfit just to set 
 them a-going. 
 
 Urby. No, no ; dash me if I do. 
 
 Bags. Then I'm offj and it's no bargain. 
 
 Urby. So say I, and no harm done. So Harry may get another 
 wife, and she may get another husband. Good by, old boy. Now, 
 I'll just go to the Jamaica, and look at the papers. ( Going.) 
 
 Bags. But, come ; I say, Urby, I'll tell you what I'll do : rll halve 
 it with you. Til come down two hundred and fifty, if you'll come 
 down ditto. 
 
 Urby. Why well we won't spoil a ship to save a ha'porth of 
 tar I'll do it. So done ; and here's my hand to the bargain. 
 
 Bags. And done again ; and now Fieldlove may get the girl as 
 soon as ever he likes. 
 
 So Mr. Harry Fieldlove and Miss Isabella Bags were married. 
 
 TRUTH. 
 
 Truth has been thus eloquently described by BRETON, who wrote 
 
 n 
 
 " Truth is the glory of time, and the daughter of eternity ; and a 
 title of the highest grace, and a note of divine nature : she is the 
 life of religion, the light of love, the grace of wit, and the crown 
 of wisdom : she is the beauty of valor, the brightness of honor, the 
 blessing of reason, and the joy of earth. Her truth is pure gold,
 
 64 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 her time is right precious, her word is most gracious; her es- 
 sence is in God, aud her dwelling with her servants ; her will 13 
 bis wisdom, and her work to his glory. She is honored in love, and 
 graced in constancy ; in patience admired, and in charity beloved : 
 she is the angel's worship, the virgin's fame, the saint's bliss, and 
 the martyr's crown : she is the king's greatness, and his counsel's 
 goodness; his subjects' peace, and his kingdom's praise: she is the 
 life of learning, and the light of the law; the honor of trade, and 
 the grace of labor: she hath a pure eye, a plain hand, a piercing 
 wit, and a perfect heart: she is wisdom's walk in the way of holi- 
 ness, and takes up her rest in the resolution of goodness. Her 
 tongue never trips, her heart never faints, her hand never fails, and 
 her faith never fears: her church is without schism, her city without 
 fraud, her court without vanity, and her kingdom without villany. 
 In sum, so infinite is her excellence, in the construction of all sense, 
 that I will thus only conclude in the wonder of her worth : she is 
 the perfection of nature, where God in Christ shows the glory of 
 Christianity." 
 
 ^ ; HOPE. 
 
 Hope is a wondevful gift of God, and one of the most powerful 
 principlsa i" i.^ 'luman mind. It is the grand support of all man- 
 kind in tribulation : it is the main-spring of action throughout the 
 earth : nothing like hope inspires courage in difficulties and dan- 
 gers : and what but hope can wipe away tears, and cheer the sor- 
 rowful heart ? Hope for better things in time to come, is the sup- 
 port of all sufferers in the world ; it is also the life and vigor of all 
 adventurers. We shall find this principle at work every where. 
 It is inscribed on the prison door, on the merchant's vessel, on the 
 warrior's banner, on the pilgrim's staff, and on the pillow of the 
 dying. It animates the lawyer at the bar, the preacher in the pulpit, 
 the parent at the head of his family, and the starving poor, while 
 passing through the dreary winter. We plough in hope, we sow in 
 hope, we reap in hope ; we live in hope, and we die in hope. Fill 
 the earth with hope, and you fill it with life and light, with vigor 
 and exertion. Banish hope from the earth, you fill it in a moment 
 full of darkness and despair. Where hope dies, exertion ends, and 
 a man is buried in gloom and despondency. While hope lives, 
 man looks forward, and strives to rise to happiness and glory. 
 Jones.
 
 , 
 
 FLOWERS. 
 
 FLOWERS. 
 
 The interest which flowers have excited in the breast of man,, 
 from the earliest ages to the present day, has never been confined 
 to any particular class of society or quarter of the globe. Nature 
 seems to have distributed them over the whole world, to serve as a 
 medicine to the mind, to give cheerfulness to the earth, and to fur- 
 ni>li agreeable sensations to its inhabitants. 
 
 The savage of the forest, in the joy of his heart, binds his brow 
 with the native flowers of the woods, whilst a taste for then* culti- 
 vation increases in every country in proportion as the blessings of 
 civilization extend. 
 
 From the humblest cottage enclosure to the most extensive park 
 and grounds, nothing more conspicuously bespeaks the good taste 
 of the possessor, than a well-cultivated flower-garden ; and it may 
 very generally be remarked, that when we behold a humble tene- 
 ment surrounded with ornamental plants, the possessor is a man of 
 correct habits, and possesses domestic comforts ; whilst, on the con- 
 trary, a neglected, weed-grown garden, or its total absence, marks 
 the indolence and unhappy state of those who have been thus neg- 
 lectful of Flora's favors. 
 
 Of all luxurious indulgences, that of flowers is the most inno- 
 cent. It is productive not only of rational gratifications, but of 
 many advantages of a permanent character. Love for a garden 
 has powerful influence in attracting men to then* homes ; and on 
 this account, every encouragement given to increase a taste for 
 ornamental gardening is additional security for domestic comfort 
 and happiness. It is, likewise, a recreation which conduces mate- 
 rially to health, promotes civilization, and softens the manners and 
 tempers of men. It creates a love for the study of nature, which 
 leads to a contemplation of the mysterious wonders that are dis- 
 played in the vegetable world around us, and which cannot be 
 investigated without inclining the mind towards a just estimate of 
 religion, and a knowledge of the narrow limits of our intelligence, 
 when compared with the incomprehensible power of the Creator. 
 
 Flowers are of all embellisliments the most beautiful, and of all 
 created beings, man - alone seems capable of deriving enjoyment 
 from them. The love for them commences with infancy, remains 
 the delight of youth, increases with our years, and becomes the 
 quiet amusement of our declining days. The infant can no sooner 
 walk than its first employment is to plant a flower in the earth, re- 
 moving it ten times in an hour, to wherever the sun seems to shine 
 most favorably. The school-boy, in the care of his little plat of 
 ground, is relieved of his studies and loses the anxious thought of 
 the home he has left. In manhood our attention is generally de- 
 manded by more active duties, or by more imperious, and, perhaps, 
 less innocent occupations ; but as age obliges us to retire from pub- 
 lic life, the love of flowers and the delights of a garden return to 
 soothe the latter period of our life. 
 
 To most persons gardening affords delight, as an easy and agree-
 
 OO THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 able occupation ; and the flowers they so fondly rear are cherished 
 from the gratification they afford to the organs of sight and of smell ; 
 but to the close observer of nature and the botanist, beauties are 
 unfolded and wonders displayed, that cannot be detected by the 
 careless attention bestowed upon them by the multitude. 
 
 In their growth, from the first tender shoots which rise from the 
 earth, through all the changes which they undergo, to the period of 
 their utmost perfection, he beholds the wonderful works of creative 
 power ; he views the bud as it swells, and looks into the expanded 
 blossom, delights in its rich tints and fragrant smell ; but, above all, 
 he feels a charm in contemplating movements and regulations be- 
 fore which all the combined ingenuity of man dwindles into 
 nothingness. Journal of Health. 
 
 SNOW-STORM. 
 
 The following account of the snow storm in 1717, was written 
 by Dr. Cotton Mather, and preserved amongst the manuscript 
 volumes of the Massachusetts Historical Society. It is a curious 
 relic, and will serve to show the doctor's method of writing. 
 
 BOSTON, 10th Dec. 1717. 
 
 .<*' Sr 
 
 Tho' we are gott so far onward as the beginning of another Win- 
 ter, yett we have not forgott ye last, which at the latter end whereof 
 we were entertained & overwhelmed with a Snow, which was 
 attended with some Things, which were uncommon enough to 
 afford matter for a letter from us. Our winter was not so bad as 
 that wherein Tacitus tells us, that Corbulo made his expedition 
 against the Parthians, nor that which proved so fatal to ye Beasts & 
 Birds in ye days of ye Emperor Justinian, & that the very Fishes 
 were killed under ye freezing sea, when Phocas did as much to ye 
 men whom Tyrants treat like ye Fishes of ye Sea. But ye conclu- 
 sion of our Winter was hard enough, and was too formidable to be 
 easily forgotten, & of a piece with what you had in Europe a year 
 before. The snow was ye chief Thing that made it so. For tho' 
 rarely does a Winter pass us, wherein we may not say with Pliny 
 Ingens Hyeme JVivis apud nos copia, yet our last Winter brought 
 with it a Snow, that excelled them all. The Snow, 'tis true, not 
 equal to that, which once fell & lay twenty Cubits high, about the 
 Beginning of October, in the parts about ye Euxine Sea, Nor to that 
 which ye French Annals tell us kept falling for twenty Nine weeks 
 together, Nor to several mentioned by Bxtheus, wherein vast num- 
 bers of people, &. of Cattel perished, Nor to those that Strabo finds 
 upon Caucasus & Rkodiginus in Armenia. But yett such an one, & 
 attended with such circumstances as may deserve to be remem- 
 bered.
 
 SNOW-STORM. 67 
 
 On the twentieth of the last February there came on a Snow, 
 which being added unto what had covered the ground a few days 
 before, made a thicker mantle for our Mother than what was usual : 
 And ye storm with it was, for the following day, so violent as to 
 makt! all communication between ye Neighbors every where to 
 cease. People, for some hours, could not pass from one side of a 
 street unto another, & ye poor Women, who happened in this 
 critical time to fall into Travail, were putt unto Hardships, which 
 ainni produced many odd stories for us. But on ye Twenty fourth 
 lay of ye Month, comes Pelion upon Ossa: Another Snow came on 
 which almost buried ye Memory of ye former, with a Storm so 
 famous that Heaven laid an Interdict on ye Religious Assemblies 
 throughout ye Country, on this Lord's day, ye like whereunto had 
 never been seen before. The Indians near an hundred years old, 
 affirm that their Fathers never told them of any thing that equalled 
 it. Vast numbers of Cattel were destroyed in this Calamity. 
 Whereof some there were, of ye Stranger sort, were found standing 
 dead on their legs, as if they had been alive, many weeks after, when 
 ye Snow melted away. And others had their eyes glazed over with 
 Ice at such a rate, that being not far from ye Sea, their mistake of 
 their way drowned them there. One gentleman, on whose farms 
 were now lost above 1100 sheep, which with other Cattel, were in- 
 terred (shall I say) or Innived, in the Snow, writes me word that 
 there were two Sheep very singularly circumstanced. For no less 
 than eight and twenty days after the Storm, the People pulling out 
 the Ruins of above an 100 sheep out of a Snow-Bank, which lay 16 
 foot high, drifted over them, there was two found alive, which had * 
 been there all this time, and kept themselves alive by eating the 
 wool of their dead companions. When they were taken out they 
 shed their own Fleeces, but soon gott into good Case again. 
 SJieep were not ye only creatures that lived unaccountably, for whole 
 weeks without their usual sustenance, entirely buried in ye Sri^rv- 
 drifts. 
 
 The Surine had a share with ye Sheep in strange survivals. A 
 man had a couple of young Hoggs, which he gave over for dead, 
 But oil the twenty seventh day after their Burial, they made their 
 way out of a Snow-Bank, at the bottom of which they had found a 
 little Tansy to feed upon. The Poultry as unaccountably survived 
 as these. Hens were found alive after seven days ; Turkeys were 
 found alive after five and twenty days, buried in ye Snow, and at 
 a distance from ye ground, and altogether destitute of any thing to 
 feed them. The number of creatures that kept a Rigid Fast, shutt 
 up in Snow for diverse weeks together, & were found alive after 
 all, have yielded surprizing stories unto us. 
 
 The Wild Creatures of ye Woods, ye outgoings of ye Evening, 
 made their Descent as well as they could in this time of scarcity 
 for them towards ye Sea-side. A vast multitude of Deer, for ye 
 same cause, taking ye same course, & ye Deep Snow Spoiling them 
 of thrir only Defence, which is to run, they became such a prey to 
 these Devourers, that it is thought not one in twenty escaped. But 
 here again occurred a Curiosity. These carnivorous Sharpers, &
 
 
 68 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 especially the Foxes, would make their Nocturnal visits to the Pens, 
 where the people had their sheep defended from them. The poor 
 Ewes big with young, were so terrified with the frequent approaches 
 of ye Foxes, & the Terror had such Impression on them, that most 
 of ye Lambs brought forth in the Spring following, were of Monsieur 
 Reinard's complexion, when ye Dam, were either White or Black. 
 It is remarkable that immediately after ye Fall of ye Snow an infi- 
 nite multitude of Sparroios made then* Appearance, but then, after a 
 short continuance, all disappeared. 
 
 It is incredible how much damage is done to ye Orchards, For 
 the Snow freezing to a Crust, as high as the boughs of ye trees, 
 anon Split ym to pieces. The Cattel also, walking on ye crusted 
 Snow, a dozen foot from ye ground, so fed upon ye Trees as very 
 much to damnify them. The Ocean was in a prodigious Ferment, 
 and after it was over, vast heaps of little shells were driven ashore, 
 where they were never seen before. Mighty shoals of Porpoises 
 also kept a play-day in the disturbed waves of our Harbours. The 
 odd Accidents befalling many poor people, whose Cottages were 
 totally covered with ye Snow, & not ye very tops of their chimneys 
 to be seen, would afford a Story. But there not being any Relation 
 to Philosophy hi them, I forbear them. 
 
 And now Satis Terra Nivis. And here is enough of my Winter 
 Tale. If it serve to no other purpose, yett it will give me an oppor- 
 tunity to tell you That nine months ago I did a thousand times wish 
 myself with you in Gresham Colledge, which is never so horribly 
 snow'd upon. But instead of so great a Satisfaction, all I can 
 attain to is the pleasure of talking with you in this Epistolary way 
 & subscribing myself 
 
 Syr Yours with an affection 
 
 that knows no Winter, 
 
 COTTON MATHER. 
 
 ON KNOWING EACH OTHER IN A FUTURE STATE. 
 
 Amongst the pleasures and employments of heaven, that of the 
 knowledge of, and the converse which the saints will have ivith one 
 another, appears to hold an exceedingly prominent place. The in- 
 habitants are always represented as a society, and as a family con- 
 tinually in the presence of each other. We are told of elders 
 together, of many angels together, and of an innumerable multitude 
 together, singing one song, even the song of Moses and the Lamb. 
 " But ye are come unto Mount Sion, the city of the living God, the 
 heavenly Jerusalem, and to an innumerable company of angels ; to 
 the general assembly and church of the first-born who are written 
 in heaven, and to God the Judge of all, and to Jesus the Mediator 
 of the new covenant." 
 
 Now, as we can have no idea of a society always existing together,
 
 ON KNOWING EACH OTHER IN A FUTURE STATE- G9 
 
 without its members being intimately known to each other, so we 
 can form no idea of the society of heaven, without the same con- 
 ception. Indeed, this sentiment is plainly conveyed to us in the 
 words of the Savior: " Many shall come from the east and the west, 
 and shall sit down with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, in the- 
 kingdom of heaven ; " for it could not with propriety be said, that 
 we should sit down with these three patriarchs, if we did not know 
 them, and were not able to recognize them in particular amidst the 
 innumerable company. 
 
 If it be true, therefore, that we shall know Abraham, Isaac, and 
 Jacob, men whom we have never seen on earth, much more true 
 is it likely to be, that we shall know those pious persons whom we 
 have seen, and with whom we have been intimately acquainted in 
 tli is world. 
 
 The apostle, in his First Epistle to the Thessalonians, writes, "But 
 1 would not have you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning them 
 who are asleep, that ye sorrow not, even as others who have no 
 hope ; for if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so 
 them also who sleep in Jesus, will God bring with him." This 
 language evidently implies, that pious friends here, though separated 
 by death, will meet again at the resurrection ; for, if this be not in- 
 tended, there does not appear to be any meaning in the apostle's 
 words. He writes to the Thessalonians, to comfort them under the 
 loss of some of their fellow-Christians, and he tells them not to sor- 
 row as those without hope. And what is that hope ? " That them 
 who sleep in Jesus will God bring with him" words which plainly 
 intimate that the separation occasioned by death was only for a 
 -time, and that parted friends should meet again. And if they are 
 to meet again, what comfort can there be in the thought of meeting, 
 unless we suppose that each will be fully known to the other ? 
 
 That every inhabitant of the blissful world will be as much dis- 
 tinguished from all the rest, as one man is distinguished from 
 another in this world, is a sentiment fully supported by the word of 
 God. And though John says, that, when Christ shall appear, the 
 rijrhteous will be like him, yet that same apostle, in the apoca- 
 lyptic vision, saw that the righteous and the Savior were not so 
 much alike, but that he could distinguish the Lamb amidst the 
 throng, that he could mark the elders amidst the angels, and that 
 he could know the martyrs amidst the innumerable company. And 
 to this same apostle, along with James and Peter, it was also granted, 
 on the mount of transfiguration, to see that there was such a differ- 
 ence between one celestial inhabitant and another, that Moses could 
 be plainly distinguished from his companion, Elias. 
 
 If, therefore, every heavenly inhabitant is to preserve his own 
 special identity, and if we are to be blessed with the faculty of 
 vision, a truth which none will dispute, what, then, will prevent 
 our recognizing all the pious whom we have known, and with 
 whom we have been associated on earth ? The thought is delight- 
 ful ; and its delight is increased, because the fact is certain. The 
 dead in Christ have only reached their home first ; but as their 
 home is to be our home, and their abode to be our abode, at the 

 
 70 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 appointed time we shall meet again, and the joy of meeting will be 
 increased by the temporary separation. Leslie. 
 
 RE-UNION IN HEAVEN. How short is the earthly history of a 
 family ! A few years, and those who are now embraced in a family 
 circle will be scattered. The children, now the objects of tender 
 solicitude, will have grown up and gone forth to their respective 
 stations in the world. A few years more, and children and parents 
 will have passed from this earthly stage. Their names will be no 
 longer heard in their present dwelling. Their domestic loves and 
 anxieties, happiness and sorrows, will be a lost and forgotten his- 
 tory. Every heart in which it was written will be mouldering in 
 the dust And is this all ? Is this the whole satisfaction which is 
 provided for some of the strongest feelings of our hearts ? If it be, 
 how shall we dare pour forth our affections on objects so fleeting ? 
 How can such transitory beings, with whom our connection is so 
 brief) engage all the love we are capable of feeling ? Why should 
 not our feelings toward them be as feeble and unsatisfactory as 
 they ? But, blessed be God, this is not all. Of this He has given 
 us perfect assurance in the gospel of his Son. Though, to the eye 
 of unenlightened nature, the ties of domestic love seem scattered 
 into dust, the spiritual eye of faith perceives that they have been 
 loosened on earth, only to be resumed, under far happier circum- 
 stances, in the regions of everlasting love and bliss. Though the 
 history of a family may seem to be forgotten when the last member 
 of it is laid in the grave, the memory of it still lives in immortal 
 souls, and when the circle is wholly dissolved on earth it is again 
 completed in heaven. Farmer's Monthly Visitor. 
 
 A DESCRIPTION OF THE PERSON OF JESUS CHRIST, 
 
 t/2s it was found in an ancient Manuscript, sent by Publius Lentidus, 
 President of Judea, to the Senate of Rome. 
 
 There lives at this time, in Judea, a man of singular character, 
 whose name is Jesus Christ The barbarians esteem him a prophet, 
 but his followers adore him as the immediate offspring of the im- 
 mortal God : he is endowed with such unparalleled virtue as to call 
 back the dead from their graves, and to heal every kind of disease 
 with a word or a touch. His person is tall and elegantly shaped, 
 his aspect amiable, reverend. His hair flows in those beautiful 
 shades which no united colors can match, falling in graceful curls 
 below his ears, agreeably couching on his shoulders, and parting on 
 the crown of his head, like the head-dress of the sect of the Naza- 
 rites ; his forehead is smooth and large ; his cheek without spot, 
 save that of a lovely red ; his nose and mouth are formed with ex- 
 quisite symmetry ; his beard is thick, and suitable to the hair of his
 
 NEWSPAPERS, AND THE ART OP PRINTING. ' 71 
 
 head, reaching a little below his chin, and parted in the middle like 
 a fork ; bis eyes are bright, clear, and serene. He rebukes with 
 majesty, counsels with mildness, and invites with the most tender 
 and persuasive language ; his whole address, whether hi word or 
 deed, being elegant, grave, and strictly characteristic of so exalted a 
 Being. No mail has seen him laugh ; but the whole world behold 
 liim weep frequently; and so persuasive are his tears, that the mul- 
 titude cannot withhold their tears from joining in sympathy with 
 him. He is very modest, temperate, and wise. In short, whatever 
 this phenomenon may turn out in the end, he seems at present a 
 man for excellent beauty and divine perfections every way sur- 
 passing the children of men. 
 
 NEWSPAPERS, AND THE ART OF PRINTING. 
 
 It was Bishop Home's opinion that there is no better moralist 
 than a newspaper. He says 
 
 " The follies, vices, and consequent miseries of multitudes dis- 
 played in a newspaper, are so many admonitions and warnings, so 
 many beacons, continually burning, to turn others from the rocks 
 un which they have been shipwrecked. What more powerful dis- 
 suasive from suspicion, jealousy, and anger, than the story of one 
 friend murdered by another, in a duel ? What caution likely to be 
 more effectual against gambling and profligacy, than the mournful 
 relation of an execution, or the fate of a despairing suicide? What 
 finer lecture on the necessity of economy, than an auction of estates, 
 houses and furniture ? ' Talk they of morals ? There is no need 
 of Hutcheson, Smith, or Paley. Only take a newspaper, and con- 
 sider it well ; read it, and it will instruct thee.' " 
 
 "When Tamerlane had finished building his pyramids of seventy 
 thousand human skulls, and was standing at the gate of Damascus, 
 glittering with steel, with his battle-axe on his shoulder, till the 
 fierce hosts filed to new victories and carnage, the pale on-looker 
 might have fancied that nature was in her death-throes; fur havock 
 ami despair had taken possession of the earth, and the sun of man- 
 hood seemed setting in seas of blood. Yet it might be on that very 
 gala-day of Tamerlane, a little boy was playing nine-pins in tlie 
 streets of Mentz, whose history was more important to them tbnn 
 twenty Tamerlanes! The Tartar Khan, with his shaggy demons 
 nf the wilderness, passed away like the whirlwind, to be forgotten 
 forever; and that German artisan has wrought a benefit which is 
 yet immeasurably expanding itself, and will continue to ex|i;md 
 through all countries- end all time. What are the conqnesis and 
 expeditions of the whole corporations of captains, from Walter the 
 I'' in Jle8s to Napoleon Bonaparte, compared with the movable tyjius 
 of Johannes Faust ? " Foreign Rcvine.
 
 72 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 HAPPY CONDITION OF THE FARMER. 
 
 The condition of a community situated as are the great mass of 
 agriculturists in America, is more desirable than that of any other 
 class of men. Living within their own means, on the fruits of their 
 own labor; enjoying abundance of the best products of the ground 
 and the first fallings of the flock; the appetite sharpened and 
 sweetened, the muscular powers strengthened, the mind made vig- 
 orous and active, by labor ; their dependence solely on the goodness 
 of God ; their prudence having looked forward even to the de- 
 struction of a crop, with a providence to supply its place ; with 
 abundant leisure for all healthy recreation and all needful rest ; 
 with no worldly cares and vexations encroaching on the reflection 
 which aids the better judgment ; in the midst of those social and 
 domestic relations which throw a charm about life, which give to 
 moral suasion its greatest force, and which rear the "tender 
 thought " to the ripe vigor of its highest usefulness ; how can we 
 conceive any state of imperfect, erring, dependent man more truly 
 enviable than that of the industrious, laboring, prolific farmers of 
 America, who live according to the best lights of their own experi- 
 ence ? The merchant fails nine times in ten before a fortune is 
 gained ; the speculator, ninety-nine times in a hundred ; the 
 mechanic and the lawyer gain only while their work is going on ; 
 the wages of the priest, like those of the common laborer, stop when 
 he no longer works ; the physician adds to his income no oftener 
 f than he visits the sick ; the salary man, if he saves at all, saves only 
 a specific sum ; the farmer, more sure of success than either, in 
 nine cases out of ten, certain of ultimate prosperity, lays his head 
 upon his pillow, with the reflection that while he sleeps his crops 
 are increasing to maturity, and his flocks and herds growing in size 
 and strength. Farmer's Monthly Visitor. 
 
 GENIUS vs. LABOR. 
 
 " Of what use is all your studying and your books ?" said an 
 honest farmer to an ingenious artist. "They don't make the corn 
 grow, nor produce vegetables for market. My Sam does more good 
 with his plough in one month, than you can do with your books 
 and papers in one year." 
 
 " What plough does your son use?" said the artist, quietly. 
 
 " Why, he uses 's plough, to be sure. He can do nothing 
 
 with any other. By using this plough, we save half the labor, and 
 raise three times as much as we did with the old wooden concern." 
 
 The artist, quietly again, turned over one of his sheets, and 
 showed the farmer the drawing of the lauded plough, saying, "lam 
 the inventor of your favorite plough, and my name is ." 
 
 The astonished farmer shook the artist heartily by the hand; and 
 invited him to call at the farm-house, and make it his home as long 
 as he liked.
 
 TIDE TABLE. 
 
 73 
 
 TIDE TABLE. 
 
 [From the American Almanac.'] 
 
 The following Table contains the Unit of Altitude of several ports and places on " 
 Ihe coast of America, according to the best authorities. 
 
 The unit of altitude of the several places in the Bay of Fundy was ascertained 
 by recent observations. 
 
 Feet 
 
 John's, St. (N. B.) .......30 
 
 John's, St. (N. F.) ^p.... 7 
 
 Kennebec, 9 
 
 Kennebunk, 9 
 
 Long Island Sound, 5 
 
 Louisburg, (C. B.) ...a* 
 
 Machias, 12 
 
 Marblehead, 11 
 
 Mary's, St., Bar, 7 
 
 Monomoy Point, 6 
 
 Moose River, (Bay of Fundy,).... 30 
 
 Island, (Me.) 25 
 
 Mount Desert, 12 
 
 Mouths of the Mississippi, 1A 
 
 Nantucket, (Shoal and Town,) 5 
 
 Nassau, (N. P.) 7 
 
 New Bedford, 5 
 
 Newburyport, 10 
 
 New Haven, 8 
 
 Newport, 5 
 
 NEW YORK, 5 
 
 Norfolk, 5 
 
 Partridge Island, (Bay of Fundy,). .55 
 
 Passamaquoddy River, ' '"> 
 
 Penobscot River, 10 
 
 Plymouth, 11* 
 
 Portland,. 9 
 
 Port Homer, 8 
 
 Hood, 6 
 
 " Jackson, 8 
 
 " Roseway, 8 
 
 Portsmouth, (N. H.) '. 10 
 
 Prince Edward's Island, 6 
 
 Providence, 5 
 
 Rhode Island Harbor, 6 
 
 Richmond, 4 
 
 Salem, (Mass.) 11 
 
 Sandwich Bay, 8 
 
 Sandy Hook, 5 
 
 Seven Isles Harbor, 31 
 
 Sheepscut River, 9 
 
 Shubenecadie River, (B. of Fundy,) 70 
 
 Simon's, St., Bat, 6 
 
 " " Sound, 6 
 
 Townsend Harbor, 9 
 
 Trnro, (Bay of Fundy,) 70 
 
 Vineyard Sound, 5 
 
 Windsor, (Hay of Fundy,) GO 
 
 Wood's Hull-. 5 
 
 Yarmouth, (N. S.) 12 
 
 Feet. 
 Advocate Harbor, (Bay of Fundy,) 50 
 
 Andrews, St 25 
 
 Annapolis, (N. S.) 30 
 
 Apple River, 50 
 
 Augustine, St...... 5 
 
 Basin of Mines, (Bay of Fundy,). . .60 
 
 Bay, Bristed, 8 
 
 " Broad, 9 
 
 " Buzzard's, 5 
 
 " Casco, 9 
 
 " Chignecto, (north part of the ? ^Q 
 
 Bay of Fundy,) $ 
 
 " St. Mary's 16 
 
 " Vert, 7 
 
 Beaver Harbor, 7 
 
 Bell Island Straits, 30 
 
 Block Island, 5 
 
 BOSTON, 1 1 1 
 
 Cape Ann, 11 
 
 " Blomidom, (Bay of Fundy,). 60 
 
 " Chat, 13 
 
 " Cod Light-House, 64 
 
 " " Harbor, 11 
 
 " D'Or, (Bay of Fundy,) 50 
 
 " Henlopen, 5 
 
 " Henry, 4A 
 
 " Lookout, 9 
 
 " May, 6 
 
 " St. Mary, 14 
 
 " Sable, 9 
 
 " Split, (Bay of Fundy,) 55 
 
 CHARLESTON, (S. C.). 6 
 
 Cumberland, (Basin Fort,) head> 7| 
 
 of the Bay of Fundy, < 11 
 
 Digby,(N.S.) 30 
 
 East port. 25 
 
 Elizabeth Isles, 5 
 
 " Town Point, 5 
 
 Florida Keys, 5 
 
 <!ay Head, (Vineyard,) 5 
 
 .'s River, 9 
 
 Georgetown Bar,.. 4 
 
 Goldsborough, 12 
 
 Green Islands, 16 
 
 Gut of Annapolis, 30 
 
 Gut of Candor, C 
 
 Halifax, 8 
 
 Hampton Roads, 5 
 
 HilUoorouffh Inlet, 5 
 
 Hounes's Hole, 5 
 
 7
 
 74 
 
 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 BLODGET'S TABLE. 
 
 This table is calculated for round timber and board logs, and 
 shows, at one view, the number of square feet any stick of round 
 timber contains, from 10 to 40 feet long, and from 10 to 48 inches 
 diameter. 
 
 X$ 
 
 Vt 
 
 * 
 
 oi i ^t-^ . <n "3 co c * 
 ' '~*' 
 
 ) to t~ t~ > C- 03 
 
 .. 
 
 io"oci-'"co 
 
 O O 
 
 ^t-^G^t^ ^it^ ^T^co^e^t^s^^ ^^^ ^* oo e* t^," 1 * ^^ o^ co e< tr^ 
 OS S Sft 25 2 S 52 ?2 1 iS 5C C JJ S '"' C 2' 1 5 oo'o tfTeo'o 5">srtr ff if fi t 
 
 '' 
 
 CO 
 CQ 
 
 O 
 <M 
 
 s 
 
 O 
 
 tf 
 
 fa 
 
 , , 
 
 <N 
 
 D&IC-COO5'* IO - t- <?* CO * "5 -" 2 S^ t- 
 
 " 
 
 !T> i t- CO CO ^ Ol "O 
 
 ^ 
 
 co ci i-> 
 
 . . 
 09 55 ft O r* 8s 9 
 
 " a g" sf fif gf a 
 
 CO to M i i CO < 
 
 " 
 
 o"^^ 
 
 __ . , 
 
 10 >r> (js vD~t~ co co en cco > 
 
 , 
 co > 
 
 ^G^ 
 
 ..,^--~- 
 'o"o"o' s -^'^sT efs-) co
 
 BLODGET'S TABLE. 
 
 75 
 
 Explanation. 
 
 Look in the column on the left hand for the length, and follow the guide lines 
 till you come directly under figures in the top column, which represent the diameter, 
 and you will have your answer in feet and tenths of a foot. 
 
 N. B. 115 feet of square timber is allowed to make 1000 of boards, the diameter 
 being taken in the middle 5 and 106, if it be taken at the top end. 
 
 OO^r-^^CMO O *$ G^ i * O CO t- 
 
 2 OS's" 00 s ^^ss SRSZ*^* s sTc ^** sT^ 
 
 jo^co^cfi^.^ ^^s^^t-C^co^' 
 
 U3JNgO3~UOU3 CO *$* r- ' t^" jj *~ ' " " 
 
 ? e^'co'io'^t^C^Q'to'G'f C " 
 ^1.^,^,^,^^^^^ ,^V^ 
 
 V--*s-i> -,-K-^ ^-*.-'^ t ~i. ^ G 'V t ~i. ^^^ -,^*"'I,^"ls^ C '^,*""l, kf ^ l 
 
 E? co cc ** r~i * o o o f t fi i "^ cc tt ~. -* c~. 10 o '"^ ^- o 
 CO io55<o^ot^cococSaoo ^-^*^ icc-^*fiO^tr;r-i^- 
 
 >*! 5P ^ ^ Q 3 2? 5 QD Tt* jf 5ft ^iO cT^P ffTc^Tqo'sT' 
 
 O t^ I** CO CO wi C^ C^ OO*~"^G'<G ; fCCG*.i'^''^''^f <l fjiO tO 
 
 ?5 ^S^S88Pi!88i~88S:!82^^^8ilWs i 
 
 " s'o'eo"'r-' ^io~co"ffTtTi 
 acnosiooo. ^-i 
 
 5g -9 efefafaa tfw eft o O *'l e5"?ft? r-*"ejp"4
 
 76 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 A LITERARY WIFE. 
 
 How delightful is it when the mind of the female is so happily 
 disposed, and so richly cultivated, as to participate in the literary 
 avocations of her husband ! It is then truly that the intercourse of 
 the sexes becomes the most refined pleasure. What delight, for in- 
 stance, must the great Budseus have tasted, even in those works 
 which must have been for others a most dreadful labor ! His wife 
 left him nothing to desire. The frequent companion of his studies, 
 she brought him the books he required to his desk ; she compared 
 passages, and transcribed quotations ; the same genius, the same in- 
 clinations, arid the same ardor for literature, eminently appeared in 
 those two fortunate persons. Far from withdrawing her husband 
 from his studies, she was sedulous to animate him when he lan- 
 guished. Ever at his side and ever assiduous ; ever with some use- 
 ful book in her hand, she acknowledged herself to be a most happy 
 woman. Yet she did not neglect the education of eleven children. 
 She and Budseus shared in the mutual cares they owed their progeny. 
 Budseus was not insensible of his singular felicity. In one of his 
 letters, he represents himself as married to two ladies ; one of whom 
 gave him boys and girls ; the other was Philosophy, who produced 
 books. 
 
 What a delightful family picture has the younger Pliny given 
 posterity in his letters! Of Calphurnia, his wife, he says, "Her 
 affection to me has given her a turn to books ; and my composi- 
 tions, which she takes a pleasure in reading, and even getting by 
 heart, are continually in her hands. How full of tender solicitude 
 is she when I am entering upon any cause ! How kindly does she 
 rejoice with me when it is over ! While I am pleading, she places 
 persons to inform her from time to time how I am heard, what ap- 
 plauses I receive, and what success attends the cause. When at 
 any time I recite my works, she conceals herself behind some cur- 
 tain, and with secret rapture enjoys my praises. She sings my 
 verses to her lyre, with no other master but love, the best instructor, 
 for her guide. Her passion will increase with our days, for it is not 
 my youth nor my person, which time gradually impairs, but my 
 reputation and my glory of which she is enamored." 
 
 THE OLD AGE OF A TEMPERATE MAN. 
 
 LEWIS CORNARO, a Venetian nobleman, memorable for having 
 lived to an extreme old age, he being one hundred and five years 
 old at the time of his death, wrote a treatise on " The Advantages of 
 a Temperate Life." He was induced, it appears, to compose this at 
 the request and for the instruction of some ingenious young men, 
 for whom he had a regard ; who, seeing him, then eighty-one years
 
 THE OLD AGE OF A TEMPERATE MAN. 77 
 
 old, in a fine, florid state of health, were extremely desirous to be 
 made acquainted with the means by which he had been enabled to 
 preserve the vigor of his mind and body to so advanced an age. 
 He describes to them, accordingly, his whole manner of living, and 
 the regimen he invariably pursued. He states, that when he was 
 young, he was very intemperate ; that this intemperance had brought 
 upon him many and grievous disorders ; that from his thirty-fifth to 
 his fortieth year, he spent his days and nights in the utmost anxiety 
 and pain ; and that, in short, his life had become a burden to him. 
 His physicians, after many fruitless attempts to restore him to 
 health, told him, that there was but one medicine remaining, which 
 had not yet been tried; but which, if he could but prevail upon him- 
 self to use with perseverance, would free him from all his com- 
 plaints ; and that was a regular and temperate plan of life. Upon 
 this he immediately prepared himself for his new regimen, and con- 
 fined himself to a very moderate portion of plain and wholesome 
 food. This diet was, at first, very disagreeable to him, and he 
 longed to return again to his former mode of living. Occasionally, 
 indeed, without the knowledge of his physicians, he did indulge 
 himself in a greater freedom of diet ; but. as he informs us, much 
 to his own uneasiness and detriment Compelled by necessity, and 
 exerting resolutely all the powers of his mind, he became, at length, 
 confirmed in a settled and uninterrupted course of the strictest tem- 
 perance ; by virtue of which, as he states, all his disorders had left 
 him in less than a year, and he enjoyed, subsequently, perfect and 
 uninterrupted health. He says, " I will briefly run over the satis- 
 factions and pleasures which I now enjoy, in this eighty-third year 
 of my age. In the first place, I am always well, and so active 
 withal, that I can with ease mount a horse upon a flat, and walk to 
 the top of very high mountains. In the next place, I am always 
 cheerful, pleasant, perfectly contented, and free from all perturba- 
 tion, and every unpleasant thought Joy and peace have so firmly 
 fixed their residence in my bosom, as never to depart from it. I 
 have none of that satiety of life, so often to be met with in persona 
 of my age, for I am enabled to spend every hour of my time with 
 the greatest delight and pleasure. I frequently converse with men 
 of talents and learning, and spend much of my time in reading and 
 writing. I have another way of diverting myself by going every 
 spring and autumn to enjoy, for some days, an eminence which I 
 possess in the most beautiful part of the Euganiau Hills, adorned 
 with fountains and gardens ; and, above all, a convenient and hand- 
 some lodge, in which place I also, now and then, make one in some 
 hunting party, suitable to my taste and age. At the same seasons 
 of every year, I revisit some of the neighboring cities, and enjoy the 
 company of such of my friends as live there, and through them the 
 conversation of other men of parts, who reside in those places, 
 such as architects, painters, sculptors, musicians, and husbandmen. 
 I vi.-it their new works; I revisit their former ones, and always 
 Irani something which gives me satisfaction. I see the palaces, 
 gardens, antiquities ; and, with these, the squares, and other public 
 places, the churches, the fortifications leaving nothing unob- 
 7*
 
 78 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 served, from which I may reap either entertainment or instruction. 
 But what delights me most, is, in my journeys backwards and for- 
 wards, to contemplate the situation and other beauties of the places 
 I pass through some in the plain, others on hills, adjoining to 
 rivers or fountains with numerous beautiful houses and gardens. 
 Nor are my recreations rendered less agreeable and entertaining by 
 my not seeing well, or not hearing readily every thing that is said 
 to me or by any other of my senses not being perfect ; for they 
 are all, thank God, in the highest perfection, particularly my palate, 
 which now relishes better the simple fare I meet with wherever 
 I happen to be, than it did formerly the most delicate dishes, when 
 I led an irregular life. I sleep, too, every where soundly and quietly, 
 without experiencing the least disturbance ; and all my dreams are 
 pleasant and delightful. 
 
 " These are the delights and comforts of my old age, from which 
 I presume that the life I spend is not a dead, morose, and melan- 
 choly one, but a living, active, and pleasant existence, which I 
 would not change with the most robust of those youths, who indulge 
 and riot in all the luxury of the senses because I know them to 
 be exposed to a thousand diseases, a thousand unavoidable sources 
 of unhappiness, and a thousand kinds of death. I, on the contrary, 
 am free from all such apprehensions from the apprehension of 
 disease, because I have nothing for disease to feed upon from 
 the apprehension of death, because I have spent a life of reason. 
 Besides, death, I am persuaded, is not yet near me. I know 
 that, barring accidents, no violent disease can touch me. 1 must be 
 dissolved by a gentle and gradual decay, when the radical moisture 
 is consumed, like oil in a lamp, which affords no longer life to the 
 dying taper." 
 
 NATURAL SCIENCE. 
 
 "It has been well remarked, that one feels inexpressible relief) 
 after witnessing the distressing scenes in every-day life, and the 
 petty cares and vexations to which man subjects man, to contem- 
 plate the harmonies of creation, and to study the revolutions of the 
 planetary system, and the structure and formation of the earth which 
 we inhabit. The mind is elevated by such subjects ; self-love i? 
 gratified by the discoveries made in the progress of our inquiries ; 
 and we feel in communion, as it were, through his works, with the 
 great First Cause, the creative Intelligence, who gave methodical 
 arrangement and harmonious movement to the whole. Frequent 
 and attentive observation of the phenomena of external nature, 
 begets an habitual calmness of disposition, eminently favorable to 
 health and happiness, and induces a caution in drawing inferences 
 from few and imperfect data, by which true philosophy is sure to 
 gain. Sensuality, in its obnoxious meaning, finds no incentives in
 
 ABUSE OF MEDICINE. 79 
 
 the study of nature ; yet all the senses in more immediate relation 
 with intellect, are fully and pleasurably occupied. We rarely meet 
 with men whose wants are more moderate and ambition less worldly 
 than naturalists ; enthusiasm they have, but it takes a salutary and- 
 specific direction, and its indulgence claims only their own personal 
 privation no encroachment on the comfort of others. The devo- 
 tee to natural science in this his life, 
 
 exempt from public haunt, 
 
 Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, 
 Sermons in stones, and good in every thing.' 
 
 To him the deep ravine and narrow defile are records of history ; 
 they speak of revolutions in the earth's surface, chronicling, them- 
 selves, then* own change. The forest, the copse, the party-colored 
 moss, have, in his eyes, charms beyond their mere picturesque dis- 
 position and various hues ; he connects, in his mind, their growth, 
 with the quality of the soil, and the very age of the still lower rocky 
 foundation ; he notes their contrast with the vegetable forms and 
 productions of other climates and remoter lands, and finds, in scenes 
 which would seem cold and spiritless to others, materials for abun- 
 dant reflection and comparison, objects of genuine poetry and elo- 
 quence. In this point of view alone, to say nothing of their numer- 
 ous applications to the useful arts, geology, mineralogy, zoology, and 
 botany have claims on the attention of every individual who is de- 
 sirous of making the expansion of his mind and the elevation of his 
 feelings contribute to the preservation, and be in a measure com- 
 mensurate with the vigor, of his health." Journal of Health. 
 
 ABUSE OF MEDICINE. 
 
 "The injudicious use of medicine is, doubtless, the occasion of no 
 little injury to the human constitution. As all active medicines 
 tend to disturb the natural movements of life, they are never to be 
 resorted to before cautiously inquiring whether the end will war- 
 rant the means ; in other words, whether the evil they are designed 
 to oppose is more serious than what they themselves will probably 
 induce. Let it ever be remembered, too, that nature of herself is 
 fully adequate to the removal of trifling and incidental difficulties ; 
 or requiring, at least, only negative aid ; that is, the avoidance of 
 all impediments, as improper diet, exposure, &c., to her recupera- 
 tive efforts. 
 
 Few habits are more adverse to the welfare of the constitution, 
 than that of applying to medicine for every slight disorder, since the 
 necessity for it growing with its use, it is oftentimes contributing to 
 the very evils it is intended to remedy. Thus, if for every trifling 
 disturbance of the stomach and bowels, we call in the assistance of 
 emetics, cathartics, or stimulants, these organs, accustomed, if I may
 
 80 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 so speak, to depend on foreign aid, will, in a measure, cease to avail 
 themselves of their own energies under embarrassments. The 
 physical as well as the moral powers should be educated to a cer- 
 tain degree of self-dependence. But active medicines are also 
 injurious in a more positive manner, operating both as local irritants, 
 and to produce various sympathetic derangements in the system. 
 
 There has ever existed a class of nervous valetudinarians, in whom 
 a pain or an ache, or the least ailment, can hardly exist, unless the 
 pill-box or essence-bottle is called into requisition. And it is quite 
 amusing often to hear them expressing their astonishment that their 
 health can be so poor, when they are constantly taking such quan- 
 tities of medicine. 
 
 Some persons are in the daily practice of overburdening the 
 stomach, and then swallowing medicinal tinctures or pills, to help 
 it to get rid of its unnatural load. Hence it is .that we so commonly 
 see dinner pills advertised for sale. 
 
 There is another absurd practice, still existing to some extent ; 
 that is, of taking medicine, as salts, sulphur, mercury, &c., at cer- 
 tain seasons, even when the system is in ordinary health, to purify 
 the blood and clear it from humors, as it is commonly expressed. 
 Some persons even get into the habit of being bled every spring, 
 under the supposition that it will advantage their health. Such 
 practices grew originally out of ignorance and false theory, and 
 have certainly much declined in recent times ; and the sooner they 
 are wholly abolished, the better it will be for the health of the com- 
 munity. If, in the spring of the year, for example, when, as often 
 happens, the appetite diminishes, and some lassitude is experienced, 
 with occasional slight headache, and a few pimples appear on the 
 face, persons would confine themselves to a plain, digestible and 
 laxative diet, and exercise freely in the open air, they would thus, 
 and without violence to the constitution, more effectually establish 
 their health, than by any medicine, or courses of medicine, which 
 they could employ. Be it ever remembered, that, by tampering 
 with what are called preventive medicines, real diseases may ulti- 
 mately be produced. Let me here be understood, however, as cen- 
 suring only the injudicious use of medicine ; there are states of the 
 system, in which, when employed under the superintendence of 
 those who understand its powers and its application, it may beget 
 the most fortunate results ; but it is too potent an instrument to be 
 ignorantly tampered with, and the injury to health from its unskilful 
 use can hardly be computed. 
 
 The free employment of medicine in early childhood cannot be 
 too strongly censured. Many an adult owes his dispepsia, and, per- 
 chance, numerous other physical infirmities, to his mother's medi- 
 cine closet. 
 
 Some children are virtually brought up on medicine. If the 
 stomach happens to be slightly disturbed, or the belly to ache a 
 little, a stimulating stomachic, or a cathartic, or, may be, even an 
 emetic, is immediately administered. Stimulants and tonics, too, 
 are far too freely employed in childhood, exciting the stomach to 
 unnatural efforts, which will be followed by a correspondent de- 
 

 
 NATIONAL DEBTS. 81 
 
 bility ; and, when persevered in, inevitably occasion a permanent 
 reduction of its healthy powers. A particular medicine, composed 
 of rum, opium, camphor, and a few other stimulating ingredients, 
 called paregoric, finds a place in almost every nursery ; and with 
 which numerous children, in the early years of their existence, are 
 very bountifully supplied. The opium which it contains serves to 
 soothe pain, and lull to sleep ; and hence arises the temptation to 
 its use. In some families, it is not only administered as a panacea 
 for almost every ailment, but is also made subservient to the con- 
 venience of attendants. Though a child, to be sure, may have slept 
 nearly the whole day, nevertheless it is very hard that a mother or 
 nurse should be disturbed by it all night, when so certain a remedy 
 is at hand. Some children even become so habituated to its narcotic 
 influence, that they are almost uniformly sleepless and irritable 
 when free from it. An important evil, too, attendant on the use of 
 this compound, is its tendency to constipate the bowels, thus beget- 
 ting a necessity for cathartics. That paregoric may, under occa- 
 sional circumstances, be useful to children, I shall not dispute ; but 
 its habitual employment is certainly most unnatural, and hazardous 
 to health. It is important that tinctures of all kinds be particularly 
 avoided in childhood, since, hi addition to the injury which they 
 may do to digestion, they tend, in a measure, to educate the taste to 
 the use of spirituous drinks." Dr. Sweetser. 
 
 NATIONAL DEBTS. 
 
 The National Debts of England and other Countries, in 1839, with the 
 Proportion which falls on each Individuul, in Sterling Money. 
 
 Debt per head. 
 . . 9. d. 
 
 England, 800,000,000 32 
 
 France, 194,400,000 5 19 7 
 
 Russia, 35,550,000 11 9 
 
 Austria, 77,100,000 276 
 
 Prussia, 29,701,000 277 
 
 Netherlands, 148,500,000 23 5 5 
 
 Spain, 70,000,000 508 
 
 United States, none 
 
 Sicilies, 18,974,000 211 2 
 
 Bavaria, 11,311,000 2 16 
 
 Sardinia, 4,584,000 112 
 
 Turkey, 3,667,000 078 
 
 Sweden, none 
 
 Portugal, 5,649,000 126 
 
 Denmark, 3,799,000 1 18 4 
 
 Rome, 17,142,000 790
 
 82 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 . . S. d. 
 
 Poland, 5,740,000 133 
 
 Saxony, 3,360,000 291 
 
 Hanover, 2,284,000 1 11 
 
 Baden,.-. 1,670,000 192 
 
 Wirteinburg, 2,505,000 1 12 7 
 
 Tuscany, 1,384,000 1 4 11 
 
 Hesse, (Darmstadt,) 1,184,000 1 3 11 
 
 Hesse, (Electorate,) 220,000 6 1 
 
 Switzerland, none 
 
 Norway, 252,000 031 
 
 JEast India Company's Territories, . .47,609,000 9 
 
 TRAVELLING WITH AN OBJECT IN VIEW. 
 
 The celebrated Sydenham displayed, as a late writer has very 
 aptly remarked, much wisdom and address, in calling into action 
 the power and effects of gymnastic medicine, in his scheme, which 
 had an object of more interest in view, than that of the ancient phy- 
 sician, who sent his patients on their travels without any other 
 object than merely touching the walls of Megara. He once 
 acknowledged to a patient whom he had long attended, that he was 
 unable to render him any further service ; adding, at the same time, 
 that he might expect benefit from a personal application to a Dr. 
 Robertson, at Inverness. Encouraged by the communication, his 
 patient set off in search of this wonderful Scotch doctor ; but, on 
 his arrival at Inverness, not being able, after diligent inquiry, to find 
 the object of his search, he immediately returned back to London, 
 and hurried to Sydenham, to reproach him for trifling with him. 
 "Well," replied the doctor, "are you better in health?" "Yes; 
 I am now perfectly well ; but no thanks to you." "No!" replied 
 Sydenham ; " but you may thank Dr. Robertson for curing you. I 
 wished to send you on a distant journey with some object of interest 
 in view ; I knew it would be of service to you. In going, you had 
 Dr. Robertson and his wonderful cures in contemplation ; and in 
 returning, you were equally engaged in thinking on scolding me." 
 
 DOMESTIC AFFECTION IN HIGH STATION. 
 
 The following letters are from the private correspondence of 
 WILLIAM PITT, the great Lord Chatham, and the eloquent cham- 
 pion of American liberty.
 
 DOMESTIC AFFECTION IN HliGH STATICN. 83 
 
 On the 14th of January, 1766, the Hcuse met again, after a short 
 adjournment, and on the address beirg moved, Mr. Pitt made a 
 most powerful and eloquent speech, 'in which, after denying the 
 constitutional right of the mother country to tax her colonies for the 
 support of her domestic expenditure, he concluded with recom- 
 mending an immediate repeal Of the act that had occasioned such 
 complaints. Many and vehement were the dehates that ensued on 
 the question. A bill was, however, ultimately carried for repealing 
 the obnoxious measure, and on that occasion we have the following 
 pleasing letters between Mr. Pitt and his wife : 
 
 Lady Chatham to Mr. Pitt. 
 
 " HAYES, past 9, Saturday, Feb. 22, 17G6. 
 
 "Joy to you, my dear love. The joy of thousands is yours, under 
 Heaven, who has crowned your endeavors with such happy success. 
 May the Almighty give to mine and to the general prayers, that 
 you may wake without any increased gout, or any cold that may 
 threaten it, by and by ! I will hope that Mr. Onslow may have 
 been a true prophet, and that what you saw yesterday, and what 
 Johnson tells me you heard, the gratitude of a rescued people, have 
 cured you. 
 
 "I cannot tell you with what pleasure my eyes opened upon the 
 news. All my feelings tell me that I hate oppression, and that I 
 Jove zealously the honor of my dear husband. I must not be sorry 
 that I do not see you to-day : it would be too great a hurry, and it is 
 fit you should rejoice with those that triumphed under you. 
 
 "I hope little Hester's cough is something better: much I cannot 
 say; but as it has begun to yield, I trust we shall soon get the better 
 of it. She and John are by no means indifferent to the news. 
 William I have not yet seen. A thousand thanks for your dear note 
 of yesterday. The hounds are just discovered in Dock-mead, and 
 have animated us into a charming noise ; which would be incon- 
 venient, if I had more to add, than that 
 
 "J am your ever faithful and loving wife, 
 
 " CHATHAM." 
 
 Mr. Pitt to Lady Chatham. 
 
 " Feb. 22,'past 4, 1766. 
 
 "Happy, indeed, was the scene of this glorious morning, when 
 the sun of liberty shone once more upon us. My dear love, not all 
 the applauding joy which the hearts of animated gratitude, saved 
 from despair and bankruptcy, uttered in the lobby, could touch me 
 in any degree like the tender and lively delight wlych breathes in 
 your warm and affectionate note. 
 
 "All together, my dearest life, makes me not ill to-day after the 
 immense fatigue, or not feeling that I am so. Wonder not if I 
 should find myself in a placid and sober fever, for tumultuous 
 exultation you know, I think, is not permitted to feeble mortal suc- 
 cesses ; but my delight, heartfelt and solid as it is, must want its 
 sweetest ingredient (if not its very essence) till I rejoice with my
 
 84 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 angel, and with her join ini thanksgiving to protecting Heaven for all 
 our happy deliverances. ' 
 
 " Thank you for the sight of Smith : his honest joy and affection 
 charm me. Loves to the svv^et babes, patriotic or not; though I 
 hope impetuous William is not behind in feelings of that kind. 
 Send the saddle horses, if you pjease, so as to be in to-morrow 
 morning. Your ever-loving husband, 
 
 W. PITT." 
 
 FASTING. 
 
 " Distinct from religious ordinances and anchorite zeal, fasting 
 has been frequently recommended and practised, as a means of 
 removing incipient disease, and of restoring the body to its cus- 
 tomary healthful sensations. Howard, the celebrated philanthropist, 
 used to fast one day in the week. Franklin for a period did the 
 same. Napoleon, when he felt his system unstrung, suspended his 
 wonted repasts, and took exercise on horseback. The list of dis- 
 tinguished names might, if necessary, be increased ; but why ad- 
 duce authority in favor of a practice which the instinct of the brute 
 creation leads them to adopt, whenever they are sick ? Happily for 
 them, they have no meddling prompters, in the shape of well-mean- 
 ing friends, to force a stomach already enfeebled, and loathing its 
 customary food, to digest this or that delicacy soup, jelly, custard, 
 chocolate, and the like. It would be a singular fashion, and yet to 
 the full as rational as the one just mentioned, if on eyes weakened 
 by long exercise in a common light, we were to direct a stream of 
 blue, or violet, or red, or even green light through a prisrn, m place 
 of keeping them carefully shaded and at rest." Journal of Health. 
 
 NAPOLEON. 
 
 As Napoleon Bonaparte occupies a large page of history, as a 
 sovereign in Europe, some data of his eventful life are here given. 
 He was born at Ajaccio, in the island of Corsica, on the 15th of Au- 
 gust, 1769. He became captain in the army, Feb. 6, 1792; general- 
 in-chief of the army of Italy, Feb. 23, 1796; first consul, August 
 13, 1799 ; consul for life, August 2, 1802. He was crowned as em- 
 peror of the French, Dec. 2, 1804 ; abdicated his crown at Fon- 
 tainebleau, April 11, 1814. He mounted the throne again, March 
 20, 1815 ; abdicated again, June 22, 1815; landed at St. Helena, Oct. 
 16, 1815; aud died on that island, May 5, 1821.
 
 WARM BATHING. 85 
 
 WARM BATHING. 
 
 ITS ADVANTAGES. It is a common but erroneous opinion, that 
 
 the warm bath is enfeebling, and renders the person using it more 
 liable to take cold. In times of remote antiquity, it was considered 
 as the solace of toil, and resorted to with a view to renovate vigor 
 exhausted by exertion. To conduct flie stranger guest to a warm 
 bath, and anoint him with fragrant unguents, previously to offering 
 him food, formed part of the rites of hospitality. 
 
 I5y a warm hath we are to understand that in which the temper- 
 ature ranges from 88 to 98 degrees of Fahrenheit's thermometer. 
 Now. tliis, so far from heating and irritating the body, has a most 
 soothing and tranquillizing effect. This is more especially obtained 
 by a bath at from 90 to !)5 Fahrenheit. The pulse, on immersion 
 iu it, is rendered slower, and the respiration more equable. If the 
 boat be above JJ8, which is the temperature of the living animal 
 body, or, as it is called, blood heat, the bath becomes a hot one ; we 
 may then look for accelerated pulse, flushed cheeks, and alter a 
 while a copious perspiration bedewing the head and face. 
 
 The most proper time for using the warm as well as every other 
 kind of hath, is when the stomach is empty, and especially an hour 
 or two before dinner. Many persons are deterred from having 
 recourse to it, at this time, by the fear of their taking cold after- 
 wards, in consequence of exposure to the open air. The error 
 here proceeds from confounding the effects of over-heating and 
 fatigue, after violent exercise, with those produced by the warm 
 bath; whereas they are totally dissimilar. In the former case, the 
 skin is cold, and weakened by excessive perspiration, and doubly 
 liable to suffer from reduced atmospherical temperature ; in the 
 second, or immersion in warm water, the heat of the system is pre- 
 vented from escaping, and has rather a tendency to accumulate; 
 so that, in fact, the living body is, after coming out from this kind of 
 bath, better prepared to resist cold than before. A writer on this 
 subject \ery properly remarks, "A person has in fact no more oc- 
 casion to dread catching cold, after having bi-en in a warm hath, than 
 he has from goinir into the open air, on a frosty morning, after 
 lea\ ing a warm lied." 
 
 Most persons are astonished at hearing of the practice of the 
 Kn.-siaiis, who rush out from a vapor bath, and jump into the 
 nearest stream of water, or roll themselves in the snow. Now, in 
 this case, the impunity with which they expose themselves to the 
 extreme cold is precisely in the ratio of their prior excitation by a 
 hot bath, \\ere they, immediately after stripping themselves, to 
 plunjre at once into a cold stream, rheumatisms and severe cold 
 would he the consequence. 
 
 The more vigorous the frame and active the circulation of an 
 individual, the lower may lie the temperature of the, hath. The 
 aged, and the feeble, and those whose hands and f.-et are habitually 
 cold, require it to hi- near the degree of blood heat, or 98 of Fahr- 
 enheit. The two best criterions to regulate the warmth of the 
 8 
 
 :
 
 86 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 batb, are, that the pulse should not be made to beat faster than 
 usual ; and that no unpleasant sensations of heat or fulness should 
 be felt about the temples and face. 
 
 ITS ANTIQUITY. If the custom of bathing be not coeval with the 
 world, its origin may at least date from a very early epoch. The 
 means which it furnished of purification and invigoration seem to 
 have been first adopted by the inhabitants of middle Asia, placed as 
 they were under a sultry clime. 
 
 The people of the first ages immersed themselves most frequently 
 in rivers or in the sea ; and, accordingly, we are told of the daughter 
 of Pharaoh Iwthing in the Nile, of Nausicaa and her companions, as 
 also Agenor, bathing in a river, and of the Amazons refreshing 
 themselves in the waters of Thermodon. The Greeks plunged their 
 tender offspring into cold torrents; and Moschus and Theocritus 
 make Europa bathe in the Anaurus, and the Spartan girls in the 
 Eurotas. Domestic baths, suggested by the wants or the con- 
 veniences of life, were not unknown at very early periods. Diomed 
 and Ulysses are represented as making use of such after they had 
 washed in the sea ; Andromache prepared warm water for Hector, 
 who had just returned from battle ; and Penelope, to banish sor- 
 row, called in the aid of unctions and baths. Minerva, at Ther- 
 mopyte, is feigned to have .imparted, by such means, vigor to the 
 wearied limbs of Hercules, and, in place of other gifts, Vulcan 
 offered him warm baths. Pindar praises the warm bathings of the 
 nymphs ; and Homer himself, who ranked baths among the inno- 
 cent pleasures of life, not only nmkes mention of a hot and vapor- 
 ous spring adjoining a cold one, but oven describes to us the baths 
 which, by common tradition, were situated near the Scamander, in 
 the vicinity of Troy. 
 
 Of nearly equal celebrity were the baths of the Assyrians, Medes 
 and Persians; and to such a pitch of grandeur and improvement 
 were they carried by this last people, that Alexander himself was 
 astonished at the luxury and magnificence of those of Darius, 
 though accustomed to the voluptuous ones of Greece and Macedon. 
 We need here but allude to the natural warm baths of Bitbynia and 
 Mytilene, mentioned by Pliny, and to those of the Etruscans, as 
 among the most early and extensively known and resorted to. 
 Journal of Health. 
 
 SWIMMING. 
 
 Swimming has, with great propriety, been pronounced " the purest 
 exercise of health ;" combining in itself the advantages of muscular 
 exertion with those of bathing. It is to be observed, however, that 
 there is, perhaps, no rxercise which calls into violent action a 
 greater number of muscles, and which, therefore, so quickly induces 
 fatigue. It is on this account, independent of the effects of the cold
 
 SWIMMING. 87 
 
 water in which the body is immersed, an amusement but ill adapted 
 to the aged, and those of an enfeebled and delicate constitution. 
 I'.vi 11 l.y the young, the healthful, and robust, it should not be car- 
 ried too far, lest injury, rather than benefit, result from it. 
 
 It is during the summer season alone, that this species of exer- 
 cise can, with propriety, be indulged in. Although the savage, in 
 northern climates, is said to plunge with impunity, at every season 
 of the year, into the coldest stream, yet the health, if not the life of 
 an individual, reared amid the luxuries and refinements of civilized 
 society, would be endangered were he to attempt a similar course. 
 
 The morning is undoubtedly the period best adapted for the ex- 
 of swimming; but by many, an hour or two before sunset 
 me been preferred, the water having then acquired a considera- 
 ble degree of warmth from the sun's rays. When the former period 
 is found peculiarly inconvenient, the latter may be adopted, rather 
 than the exercise should be entirely abandoned. During the mid- 
 dle portions of the day, when the heat is oppressive, to swim in an 
 open river would be attended with considerable danger. 
 
 Like every other species of active exercise, the one under con- 
 sideration is to be abstained from until several hours after eating. 
 
 It is important to select for the amusement of swimming a pure, 
 running stream, of sufficient depth, and, if possible, with a sandy 
 shore and bottom. Stagnant and thickly-shaded pools, particularly 
 ill the neighborhood of marshes, ought carefully to be shunned. 
 
 A ridiculous, and, to a certain extent, dangerous, idea prevails 
 with many, that the body should be allowed to become perfectly 
 cool previously to entering the water. On the contrary, it will very 
 gem-rally be found highly advantageous to partake of a degree of 
 exercise before immersion, sufficient to produce a gentle increase 
 of the circulation of the blood, and a slight augmentation of the 
 heat of the body. But, while in the earlier stages of exercise, 
 before a copious perspiration has dissipated the heat, or the system, 
 has become exhausted by fatigue, an individual may fearlessly 
 plunge into the water. This would be replete with danger, if prac- 
 tised after exercise has been urged so far as to occasion profuse 
 per.-piratinn, with languor and fatigue. Under such circumstances, 
 the heat of the body is fast sinking, and immersion in cold water 
 would produce a severe and protracted chill. 
 
 Immediately on leaving the water, the body should always be 
 wiped perfectly dry by friction with a coarse towel; and after 
 die-sing, a gentle degree of exercise ought to be taken. Nothing 
 is indeed more prejudicial to' health, than sitting, or remaining inac- 
 tive, subsequently to bathing. Walking briskly to and from the 
 place selected for swimming, particularly if it be at a reasonable 
 distance from the dwelling, will in most cases be the best exercise 
 that can be adopted, both before entering and after coming out of 
 the \vater. 
 
 .
 
 88 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 GENERAL WOLFE AND GRAY'S ELEGY. 
 
 From an admirable lecture on the " Romance of American His- 
 tory," by W. B. Reed, Esq., at Philadelphia, and published in Wai- 
 die's Library, we extract the subjoined traditionary anecdote of 
 General Wolfe, the gallant conqueror of the less fortunate, but not 
 less gallant Montcalm, Sept. 13, 1759. The youthful general, wedded 
 to glory as he was, and standing on the verge of fate, had yet, it 
 seems, a full perception of the beauties of the finest and most fin- 
 ished poem in the English language. 
 
 "On the night before the battle of the Plains, the young English 
 general passed close to the French batteries, in a boat, on a visit to 
 one of his posts. The night was calm and serene. The crew plied 
 their muffled oars as they passed, concealed by the deep shadow 
 which, even at night, the citadel of Quebec and the castle of St. Louis 
 casts on the placid waters of the St. Lawrence. In the stern of the 
 boat sat Wolfe and one of his aids, and close to them a young mid- 
 shipman, the cockswain of the boat, from whom the legend is derived, 
 an anxious listener to each word that might fall from his general's 
 lips. And of what was he conversing ? Was it of the next day's 
 doubtful conflict? Was it of the prospect of victory or defeat ? Waa 
 it of a peerage, or of Westminster Abbey? Was it of the foe, within 
 the reach of whose sentries they were stealthily passing ? It was of 
 none of these that the youthful soldier was speaking. His thoughts 
 were of distant and gentler themes. He spoke of a new poem that 
 had appeared in England just before he left there and reciting 
 each stanza of 'THE ELEGY IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD,' ex- 
 claimed, when he had finished it, ' I would rather have written that 
 poem, than take Quebec to-morrow.' " 
 
 ELEGY WRITTEN IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD. 
 
 The cm-few tolls the knell of parting day ; 
 
 The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea ; 
 The ploughman homeward plots his weary way, 
 
 And leaves the world to darkness and to me. 
 
 Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, 
 And all the air a solemn stillness holds ; 
 
 Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, 
 And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds; 
 
 Save that, from yonder ivy-mantled tower, 
 The moping owl does to the moon complain 
 
 Of such as, wandering near her secret bower, 
 Molest her ancient, solitary reign. 
 
 Beneath those rugged elms, that yc\v tree's shade, 
 Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap, 
 
 Each in his narrow cell forever laid, 
 The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep.
 
 GENERAL 1VOLFE AND GKAv's ELEGY. ' ' 89 
 
 The breezy call of incense-breathing morn, 
 
 The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, 
 
 The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, 
 No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed. 
 
 For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, 
 
 Or busy housewife ply her evening care ; 
 No children run to lisp their sire's return, 
 
 Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share. 
 
 Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield ; 
 
 Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke : 
 How jocund did they drive their team afield ! 
 
 How bowed the woods beneath their sturdy stroke ! 
 
 Let not Ambition mock their useful toil, 
 
 Their homely joys and destiny obscure ; 
 Nor Grandeur hear, with a disdainful smile, 
 
 The short and simple annals of the poor. 
 
 The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, 
 And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, 
 
 Await, alike, the inevitable hour; 
 
 The paths of glory lead but to the grave. 
 
 Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault, 
 If memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise, 
 
 Where, through the long-drawn aisle, and fretted vault, 
 The pealing anthem swells the note of praise. 
 
 Can storied urn, or animated bust, 
 Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath ? 
 
 Can Honor's voice provoke the silent dust, 
 Or Flattery soothe the dull, cold ear of death ? 
 
 Perhaps, in this neglected spot,' is laid 
 
 Some heart, once pregnant with celestial fire ; 
 
 Hands that the rod of empire might have swayed, 
 Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre : 
 
 But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page, 
 Rich with the spoils of time, did ne'er unrol ; 
 
 Chill Penury repressed their noble rage, 
 And froze the genial current of the soul. 
 
 Full many a gem, of purest ray serene, 
 The dark, uniathomed caves of ocean bear; 
 
 Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, 
 And waste its sweetness on the desert air. 
 
 Some village Hampden, that, with dauntless breast, 
 
 The little tyrant of his fields withstood ; 
 Some mute, inglorious Milton here may rest; 
 
 Some Cromwell, guiltless of his country's blood. 
 8*
 
 90 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 The applause of listening senates to command, 
 The threats of pain and ruin to despise, 
 
 To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land, 
 
 And read their history in a nation's eyes, 
 
 Their lot forbade ; nor circumscribed alone 
 
 Their growing virtues, but their crimes confined ; 
 
 Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne, 
 And shut the gates of mercy on mankind ; 
 
 The struggling pangs of conscious Truth to hide, 
 To quench the blushes of ingenuous Shame ; 
 
 Or heap the shrine of Luxury and Pride 
 With incense kindled at the Muse's flame. 
 
 Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife, 
 Their sober wishes never learned to stray : 
 
 Along the cool, sequestered vale of life 
 They kept the noiseless tenor of their way. 
 
 Yet e'en these bones from insult to protect, 
 Some frail memorial, still erected nigh, 
 
 With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture decked, 
 Implores the passing tribute of a sigh. 
 
 Their name, their years, spelled by the unlettered Muse, 
 
 The place of fame and elegy supply ; 
 And many a holy text around she strews, 
 
 That teach the rustic moralist to die. 
 
 For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey, 
 
 This pleasing, anxious being e'er resigned, 
 
 Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day, 
 Nor cast one longing, lingering look behind ? 
 
 On some fond breast the parting soul relies ; 
 
 Some pious drops the closing eye requires ; 
 E'en from the tomb the voice of nature cries, 
 
 E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires. 
 
 For thee, who, mindful of the unhonored dead, 
 Dost in these lines their artless tale relate, 
 
 If, chance, by lonely Contemplation led, 
 
 Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate, 
 
 Haply, some hoary-headed swain may say, 
 " Oft have we seen him, at the peep of dawn, 
 
 Brushing, with hasty steps, the dews away, 
 To meet the sun upon the upland lawn. 
 
 " There, at the foot of yonder nodding beech, 
 That wreathes its old, fantastic roots so high, 
 
 His listless length at noontide would he stretch, 
 And pore upon the brook that babbles by.
 
 ADVICE ON MARRIACi:. . 91 
 
 it- 
 
 "Hard by yon wood, now smiling, as in scorn, 
 Muttering his wayward fancies, he would rove ; 
 
 Now drooping, woful wan, like one forlorn, 
 
 Or crazed with care, or crossed in hopeless love. 
 
 " One morn I missed him on the accustomed hill, 
 
 Along the heath, and near his favorite tree : 
 Another came ; nor yet beside the rill, 
 
 Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he. 
 
 "The next, with dirges due, in sad array, 
 
 Slow through the churchway path we saw him borne. 
 Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay, 
 t Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn." 
 
 The Epitaph. 
 
 Here rests his head upon the lap of earth 
 
 A youth to fortune and to fame unknown : 
 Fair Science frowned not on his humble birth, 
 
 And Melancholy marked him for her own. 
 
 Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere: 
 Heaven did a recompense as largely send: 
 
 He gave to misery all he had a tear ; 
 He gained from heaven 'twas all he wished a friend. 
 
 No farther seek his merits to disclose, 
 
 Or draw his frailties from their dread abode 
 
 (There they, alike, in trembling hope, repose,) 
 The bosom of his Father and his God. 
 
 ADVICE ON MARRIAGE, 
 
 From PATRICK HEJJRT, the celebrated Statesman and Christian, to 
 his only Daughter. 
 
 Mr DEAR DAUGHTER: You have just entered into that state 
 which is replete with happiness or misery. The issue depends upon 
 the prudent, amiable, uniform conduct, which wisdom and virtue so 
 strongly recommend, on the one hand, or on that importance which 
 a want of reflection or passion may prompt, on the other. 
 
 You are allied to a man of honor, of talents, and of an open, gen- 
 erous disposition. You have, therefore, in your power all the essen- 
 tial ingredients of domestic happiness: it cannot be marred, if you 
 now reflect upon that system of conduct which you ought invariably 
 to pursue if you now see clearly the path from which you will 
 resolve never^ to deviate. Our conduct is often the result of whim
 
 92 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 or caprice, often such as will give us many a pang, unless we see 
 beforehand what is always most praiseworthy, and the most essential 
 to happiness. 
 
 The first maxim you should follow is, never attempt to control 
 your husband by opposition, by displeasure, or any other mark of 
 anger. A man of sense, of prudence, of warm feelings, cannot, and 
 will not, bear an opposition of any kind, which is attended with an 
 angry look or expression. The current of his affections is suddenly 
 stopped ; his attachment is weakened ; he begins to feel a mortifica- 
 tion the most pungent; he is belittled even in his own eyes; and, 
 be assured, the wife who once excites those sentiments in the breast 
 of the husband, will never regain the high ground which she might 
 and ought to have retained. When he marries her, if he is a good 
 man, he expects to find in her one who is not to control him not to 
 take from him the freedom of acting as his own judgment shall direct, 
 but one who will place such confidence in him, as to believe that his 
 prudence is his best guide. Little things, which are, in reality, merely 
 trifles in themselves, often produce bickerings, and even quarrels. 
 Never permit them to be a subject of dispute ; yield them with plea- 
 sure, and with a smile of affection. Be assured that one difference 
 outweighs them all a thousand or ten thousand times. A difference 
 with your husband ought to be considered as the greatest calamity 
 as one that is to be studiously guarded against ; it is a demon 
 which must never be permitted to enter a habitation where all should 
 be peace, unimpaired confidence, and heartfelt affection. Besides, 
 what can a woman gain by opposition or indifference? Nothing. 
 But she loses every thing ; she loses her husband's respect for her 
 virtues ; she loses his love ; and with that, all prospect of future 
 happiness. She creates her own misery, and then utters idle and 
 silly complaints ; but utters them in vain. The love of a husband 
 can be retained only by the high opinion which he entertains of his 
 wife's goodness of heart, of her amiable disposition, of the sweetness 
 of her temper, of her prudence, of her devotion to him. Let nothing, 
 upon any occasion, ever lessen that opinion. On the contrary, it 
 should augment every day : he should have much more reason to 
 admire her for those excellent qualities which will cast a lustre over 
 a virtuous woman when her personal attractions are no more. 
 
 Has your husband staid out longer than you expected ? When he 
 returns, receive him as the partner of your heart. Has he disap- 
 pointed you in something you expected, whether of ornament, or of 
 furniture, or of any convenience ? Never evince discontent ; receive 
 his apology with cheerfulness. Does he, when you are a house- 
 keeper, invite company without informing you of it, or bring home 
 with him a friend ? Whatever may be your repast, however scanty 
 it may be, or how impracticable it may be to add to it, receive 
 them with a pleasing countenance, adorn your table with cheerful- 
 ness, give to your company a hearty welcome: it will more than 
 compensate for every other deficiency ; it will evince love for your 
 husband, good sense in yourself, and that politeness of manners 
 which acts as the most powerful charm ; it will give to the plainest 
 fare a zest superior to all that luxury can boast. Never be discon- 
 tented on anv occasion of this nature.
 
 ADVICE ON MARRIAGE. - 93 
 
 In the next place, as your husband's success, in his profession, will 
 depend upon hi:- popularity, and as the n, aimers of a wife have no 
 little influence in extending or lessening the respect and esteem of 
 others for her husband, you should take care to be affable and polite 
 to the poorest as well as to the richest. A re.-erved haughtiness is a 
 sure indication of a weak mind and an unfeeling heart. 
 
 With respect to your servants, teach them to respect and love 
 you, while you expect from them a reasonable discharge of their re- 
 spective duties. Never tease \onrself, or them, by scolding; it has 
 no other effect than to render them discontented and impertinent 
 Admonish them with a calm firmness. 
 
 Cultivate your mind by the perusal of those books which instruct 
 while they amuse. Do not devote much of your time to novels ; 
 there are a few which may be useful and improving in giving a 
 higher tone to our moral sensibility ; but they tend to vitiate the 
 and to produce a disrelish for substantial intellectual food. 
 Most plays have the same cast ; they are not friendly to the delicacy 
 which is one of the ornaments of the female character. History, 
 iphy, poetry, moral essays, biography, travels, sermons, and 
 other well-written religious productions, will not fail to enlarge your 
 understanding, to render you a more agreeable companion, and to 
 exult your virtue. A woman devoid of rational ideas of religion has 
 no security for her virtue ; it is sacrificed to her passions, whose 
 voice, not that of God, is her only governing principle. Besides, in 
 those hours of calamity to which families must be exposed, where 
 will she find support, if it be not in her just reflections upon that all- 
 ruling Providence which governs the universe, whether inanimate or 
 animate? 
 
 Mutual politeness, between the most intimate friends, is essential 
 to that harmony which should never be broken or interrupted. How 
 important, then, is it between man and wife! The more warm the 
 attachment, the less will either party bear to be slighted, or treated 
 with the smallest degree of rudeness or inattention. This politeness, 
 then, if it be not in itself a virtue, is, at least, the means of giving to 
 real goodness a new lustre; it is the means of preventing discontent, 
 and even quarrels; it is the oil of intercourse ; it removes asperities, 
 and gives to every thing a smooth, an even, and a pleasing movement. 
 
 1 will only add, that matrimonial happiness does not depend upon 
 wealth ; no, it is not to be found in wealth ; but in minds properly 
 tempered, and united to our respective situations. Competency is 
 necessary ; all beyond that point is ideal. Do not suppose, however, 
 that I would not advise your husband to augment his property by all 
 -t and commendable means. I would wish to see him actively 
 - (1 in such a pursuit ; because engagement, a sedulous employ- 
 ment iu obtaining some laudable end, is essential to happiness. In 
 the attainment of a fortune, by honorable means, a man desires satis- 
 liictiou in self-applause, as well as from the increasing estimation in 
 v, Inch In- is held by those around him. 
 
 In the management of your domestic concerns, let prudence and 
 
 onomy prevail. Let neatiu ss, order, and judgment be seen 
 
 in all your different departments. Unite liberality with a just 
 
 [ figality ; always reserve something for the hand of charity ; and
 
 94 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 never let your door be closed to the voice of suffering humanity. 
 Your servants, in particular, will have the strongest claim upon your 
 charity. Let them be well clothed, nursed iu sickness, and never 
 let them be unjustly treated. 
 
 FEMALE INFLUENCE AND ENERGY. 
 
 u I have observed that a married man, falling into misfortune, is 
 more apt to retrieve his situation in the world than a single one ; chiefly 
 because his spirits are soothed and relieved by domestic endear- 
 ments, and his self-respect kept alive by iinding that, although all 
 abroad be darkness and humiliation, yet there is still a little world of 
 love at home, of which he is monarch ; whereas, a single man is apt 
 to run to waste and self-neglect; to fancy himself lonely and aban- 
 doned, and his heart to fall to ruins, like some deserted mansion, for 
 want of an inhabitant. I have often had occasion to remark the for- 
 titude with which women sustain the most overwhelming reverses 
 of fortune. Those disasters which break down the spirit of a man 
 and prostrate him in the dust, seem to call forth all the energies of 
 the softer sex, and give such intrepidity and elevation to their char- 
 acter, that at times it approaches to sublimity. Nothing can be more 
 touching than to behold a soft and tender female, who had been all 
 meekness and dependence, and alive to every trivial roughness, while 
 treading the prosperous path of life, suddenly rising in mental force 
 to be the comforter and supporter of her husband under misfortune, 
 abiding, with unshrinking firmness, the bitterest blasts of adversity. 
 As the vine, which has long twined its graceful foliage about the oak, 
 and been lifted by it in sunshine, will, when the hardy plant is rifted 
 by the thunder-bolt, cling around it with its caressing tendrils, and 
 bind up its shattered boughs, so is it beautifully ordered by Provi- 
 dence, that woman, who is the ornament and dependent of man in 
 his happier hours, should be his stay and solace when smitten with 
 sudden calamity; winding herself into the rugged recesses of his 
 nature, tenderly supporting the drooping head, and binding up the 
 broken heart." Washington Irving. 
 
 HOME. 
 
 u O, if there be on earth a spot 
 Where life's tempestuous waves rage not ; 
 Or if there be a charm, a joy, 
 Without satiety or alloy ; 
 Or if there be a feeling fraught 
 With every fond and pleasing thought ;
 
 DUTY TOWARDS GOD AND MAX. - 95 
 
 Or if there be a hope that lives 
 
 On the pure happiness it gives, 
 
 That envy touches not where strife 
 
 Ne'er mingles with the eup of life ; 
 
 Or if there hr ;i world of bliss, 
 
 Of peace, of love, of happiner-s ; 
 
 Or if there lie ;i refuse fair, 
 
 A sate retreat from toil and care, 
 
 Where the heart may a dwelling find, 
 
 A store of many joys combined, 
 
 Where every feeling, every tone, 
 
 Best harmonizes with its own, 
 
 Whence its vain wishes ne'er can rove, 
 
 O, it is HOME ! a home of love ! " 
 
 DUTY TOWARDS GOD AND MAN 
 
 " Qwes. What is thy duty towards God ? 
 
 My duty towards God is, to believe in him ; to fear him ; 
 nnd to love him with all my heart, with all my mind, with all my 
 soul, and with all my strength ; to worship him ; to give him thanks ; 
 to put my whole trust in him ; to e.-ll upon him; to honor his holy 
 Name and his Word ; and to serve him truly all the days of my life. 
 ({i;<t. What is thy duty towards thy neighbor? 
 Ans. My duty towards my neighbor is, to love him as myself, and 
 to all men as I would they should do unto me; to love, honor, 
 and succor my father and mother ; to honor and obey the civil au- 
 thority; to submit myself to all my governors, teachers, spiritual 
 pastors, and masters; to order myself lowly and reverently to all 
 my betters: to hurt nobody by word or deed: to be true and just 
 in nil my dealings; to bear no malice or hatred in my heart; to 
 n\ hands from picking and stealing, and my tongue from evil 
 ng, lyinsr, and slandering: to keep my body in temperance, 
 ..Mid chasiity: not to covet nor desire other men's goods ; 
 but to learn and labor truly to get mine own living, and to do my 
 duty iu that state of life unto which it shall please God to call me." 
 
 A TABLE 
 
 For telling the Weather through nil the Lunations of each Year forever. 
 
 Thi< table and the accompanying remarks aro the result of many 
 ' actu .i "Nervation ; the whole bei:::; constructed on a due coil-
 
 9G 
 
 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 sideration of the attraction of the sun and moon, in their several 
 positions respecting the earth, and will, by simple inspection, show 
 the observer what kind of weather will most probably follow the 
 entrance of the moon into any of its quarters, and that so near the 
 truth, as to be seldom or never found to fail. 
 
 This table was originally formed by Dr. Herschel, and approved, 
 with some alterations, by the experience of Dr. Adam Clarke. 
 
 MOON. 
 
 TIME OF CHANGE. 
 
 IN SUMMER. 
 
 IN WINTER. 
 
 ! 
 
 "S = 
 
 Between midnight and ) 
 two in the morning, $ 
 
 Fair. 
 
 Hard frost, unless the wind 
 be S. or W. 
 
 o SI 
 ~ 2 
 
 2 and 4, morning, j 
 
 Cold, with frequent ? 
 showers. ) 
 
 Snow and stormy. 
 
 s C 
 
 4 and 6 " 
 
 Rain. 
 
 Rain. 
 
 W c3 
 
 6 and 8 
 
 Wind and rain. 
 
 Stormy. 
 
 EC* 
 
 8 and 10 
 
 Changeable. < 
 
 Cold rain, if wind be W. ; 
 snow, if E. 
 
 5 ce 
 
 10 and 12 
 
 Frequent showers. 
 
 Cold and high wind. 
 
 C D 
 
 o -c 
 
 At 12 o'clock at noon, ) 
 and 2, P. M. < 
 
 Very raiiy. 
 
 Snow or rain. 
 
 S H 
 
 Between 2 and 4, P. M. 
 
 Changeable. 
 
 Fair and mild. 
 
 ~* ^ 
 
 4 and G, " 
 
 Fair. 
 
 Fair. 
 
 1 o 
 
 C 
 
 Fair, if wind N. W.) 
 
 Fair and frosty, if wind 
 
 SS s 
 
 G and 8, " ^ 
 
 c, 
 
 N. or N. E. 
 
 2=: 
 
 ? 
 
 Rainy. ifS. orS.W.S 
 
 Rain or Snow, if S. or S. W. 
 
 ~* r~. 
 
 8 and 10, '< 
 
 Do. 
 
 Do. 
 
 to 
 
 10 and midnight, 
 
 Fair. 
 
 Fair and frosty. 
 
 Observations. 1. The nearer the time of the moon's change, 
 first quarter, full, and last quarter are to midnight, the fairer will 
 the weather be during the seven days following. 
 
 2. The space for this calculation occupies irom ten at night till 
 two next morning. 
 
 3. The nearer to mid-day or noon, the phases of the moon happen, 
 the more foul or wet weather may be expected during the next seven 
 days. 
 
 4. The space for this calculation occupies from ten in the forenoon 
 to two in the afternoon. These observations refer principally to the 
 summer, though they affect spring and autumn nearly in the same 
 ratio. 
 
 WASHINGTON A FARMER. 
 
 The fame of General Washington, as a soldier and statesman, is 
 universally known and highly admired by all who appreciate talents, 
 worth, and love of country : but his character, as a farmer, was less 
 known in his day ; and his memory, in this respect, is not venerated
 
 A RICH BANKER A FARMER. 97 
 
 according to its desert. Possessing ample means, and the most ardent 
 Jove of rural life, he was one of the first experimental and practical 
 farmers in Virginia. His estate at Mount Vernon consisted of 10,000 
 acres of land in one body, equal to about fifteen miles square. It was> 
 divided into farms of convenient size, at the distance of two, three, 
 four, and five miles from his mansion-house. These farms he visited 
 every day, in pleasant weather, and was constantly engaged in 
 making experiments for the improvement of agriculture. 
 
 Some idea of the extent of his farming operations may be formed 
 from the following facts: In 1782, he had 500 acres in grass, 
 sowed 600 bushels of oats, 700 acres with wheat, and prepared 
 as much for corn, barley, potatoes, beans and peas, &c., and 150 
 with turnips. His stock consisted of 140 horses, 112 cows, 285 
 working oxen, heifers, and steers, and 500 sheep. He constantly 
 employed 250 hands, and kept 24 ploughs going during the whole 
 year, when the earth and the state of the weather would permit. In 
 1786, he slaughtered 150 hogs, weighing 18,560 Ibs., for the use of 
 his family, besides provisions for his negroes. Silk Culturist. 
 
 A RICH BANKER A FARMER. 
 
 Stephen Girard, the great merchant and banker, was a great 
 and successful farmer. Fie owned a farm o several hundred acres 
 of land, within a few miles of Philadelphia, the cultivation of which 
 he superintended with his usual industry and acuteness. This farm 
 was his principal hobby ; for, every day, at one o'clock precisely, his 
 gig was in waiting for him, at his counting-house door, and as soon 
 as the clock struck one, he started for his farm, not suffering any 
 matter whatever to interfere with his daily visit During the after- 
 noon, he gave his personal attention to the various agricultural 
 affairs requiring it, plying his own hands to any and every kind of 
 Imsiiiess that was in season. In the evening, he returned to the city 
 to lodge, and the return of daylight, the next morning, would find 
 him again engaged in the labors of his farm, which he would intermit 
 so as to l)e in the city by nine o'clock, to attend to his extensive and 
 \\rll-managed commercial and banking concerns, and at one o'clock 
 he was again on his way to his farm. He followed out this routine 
 for twenty or thirty years, permitting no part of his business to suffer 
 from neglect or want of attention. His farm presented a perfect 
 model for imitation. His grain-fields, grass-grounds, orchard, and 
 garden exhibited the most luxuriant and perfect appearance, while 
 his stock of every kind, and poultry in all their varieties, were the 
 finest and most perfect that were to be found in the country. 
 Pkiladelphia Farmer's Cabinet. 
 J 

 
 98 
 
 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 POPULATION OF THE WORLD. 
 
 FROM THE LATEST AND BEST AUTHORITIES. 
 
 EUROPE. 
 
 States. 
 
 Geo. 
 Sq. Miles. 
 
 Population. 
 
 Capitals. 
 
 Population. 
 
 Germanic Confederation. Great 
 _ , Britain* 
 
 
 58,335 
 8,125 
 27,780 
 30,000 
 16,500 
 127,000 
 96,000 
 1,499,000 
 36,700 
 373 
 112,500 
 11,800 
 754 
 21,000 
 1,660 
 1,570 
 312 
 38 
 17 
 6,324 
 13,000 
 
 31,460 
 
 29,150 
 * 137,400 
 144 
 194,500 
 80,450 
 8,326 
 9,700 
 
 13,366,335 
 805,236 
 2,305,807 
 7,734,000 
 1,992,723 
 2,751,582 
 1,050,132 
 52,575,000 
 4,035,700 
 114,000 
 9,476,000 
 635,000 
 200,000 
 4,333,966 
 440,000 
 380,000 
 143,000 
 6,500 
 7,000 
 1,300,000 
 2,590,000 
 
 7,420,000 
 
 3,530,000 
 13,953,959 
 15,000 
 32,133,037 
 12,833,338 
 2,747,204 
 3,816,000 
 32,560,934 
 2,035,814 
 4,070,000 
 1,562,033 
 1,550,000 
 1,414,428 
 1,141,727 
 700,000 
 718,000 
 222,000 
 431,000 
 77,000 
 241,000 
 337,000 
 242,000 
 145,000 
 130,000 
 307,000 
 56,000 
 38,000 
 34,000 
 24,100 
 30,000 
 27,500 
 57,000 
 48,000 
 76,000 
 
 
 1,474,069 
 
 104,174 
 79,526 
 20,610 
 320,000 
 126,443 
 25,000 
 600,000 
 6,000 
 14,000 
 121,887 
 30,000 
 27,000 
 22,000 
 1,000 
 4,000 
 80,000 
 154,000 
 
 357,273 
 
 239,872 
 201,000 
 2,000 
 310,000 
 236,830 
 202,364 
 77,000 
 774,332 
 10,313 
 75,000 
 24,661 
 28,000 
 56,000 
 19,000 
 20,000 
 26,000 
 10,000 
 12,000 
 5,000 
 6,000 
 7,000 
 36,000 
 11,000 
 5,000 
 10,000 
 10,000 
 5,000 
 6,000 
 6,000 
 5,000 
 1,000 
 3,000 
 3,000 
 2,000 
 
 Wales, 
 
 
 
 
 
 Stockholm, 
 
 
 
 St. Petersburg!], . . 
 
 Poland, 
 
 
 
 Turkey in Europe, 
 
 Constantinople,... 
 
 
 Corfu, 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Stales of the Church,.. 
 Two Sicilies, ) 
 (Sicily and Naples,) j " 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Andora, 
 
 
 
 Berlin, . ^ 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 154,000 
 11,200 
 22,120 
 5,720 
 11,125 
 4,341 
 4,480 
 2,826 
 3,344 
 1,070 
 3,582 
 578 
 1,880 
 1,446 
 1.126 
 731 
 691 
 397 
 261 
 253 
 240 
 109 
 156 
 182 
 306 
 270 
 330 
 
 Paris, 
 
 
 Zurich, 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Mecklenburg-Schwerin, 
 Mecklenburg-Strelitz,. . 
 
 
 N. Strelitz, 
 
 
 
 Wiesbaden, 
 
 
 Saxe-Cobourg-Gotha,. . . 
 
 Gotha 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Anhalt-Bernburg, ...... 
 
 
 
 Reuss, Elder Line. 
 llt-ii-m, Younger Line-,. . 
 Reuss, Loben-Ebersdorf, 
 Sthw. Rudolstadt, 
 Schw. Sonderhausen, .. 
 
 
 
 
 Rudolstadt, 
 
 Sonderhausen,
 
 POPULATION OF THE WORLD. 
 
 99 
 
 
 State*. V 
 
 Gfo. 
 Sq. Miles. 
 
 Population. 
 
 Capitals. 
 
 Population. 
 
 
 
 157 
 
 2fi,000 
 
 
 2,000 
 
 
 Waldeck 
 
 347 
 
 54.000 
 
 
 2,000 
 
 '~ 
 
 c 
 
 Hohenzol. Sigmaringen, 
 
 293 
 83 
 
 38,000 
 
 15.000 
 
 Sigmaringen, 
 
 800. 
 3,000 
 
 j 
 
 
 40 
 
 6,000 
 
 
 700 
 
 
 
 125 
 
 21,000 
 
 
 3,000 
 
 '- 
 
 Fran kfort, 
 
 60 
 
 54,000 
 
 Frankfort,. 
 
 48,000 
 
 2 
 
 
 51 
 
 50,000 
 
 
 38,000 
 
 E 
 
 
 114 
 
 148,000 
 
 
 112,000 
 
 i 
 
 
 68 
 
 46,000 
 
 
 22,000 
 
 
 Kniphausen, Lordship,. 
 
 13 
 
 2,859 
 
 
 100 
 
 ASIA. 
 
 States. 
 
 Oca. 
 Sq. Miles. 
 
 Inhabitants. 
 
 Chief Cities. 
 
 Population. 
 
 
 4,070,000 
 180,000 
 270,000 
 124,000 
 140,000 
 
 64<j,ii.-,o 
 
 349,000 
 485,000 
 15,650 
 29,760 
 40,000 
 66,000 
 40,000 
 172,000 
 110,000 
 50,000 
 35<),i>00 
 173,000 
 145,000 
 100,000 
 39,000 
 40,000 
 556,000 
 4,006,000 
 3,700 
 400 
 
 170,000,000 
 25,000,000 
 14,000,000 
 3,000,000 
 3,500,000 
 114,430,000 
 80,800,000 
 32,800,000 
 830,000 
 4,000,000 
 2,500,000 
 5,500,000 
 1,000,000 
 6,500,000 
 2,000,000 
 1,500,000 
 9,000,000 
 2,500,000 
 800,000 
 1,000,000 
 1,600,000 
 2,500,000 
 12,500,000 
 3,415,000 
 r,oo,o<i<) 
 179,000 
 
 Pekin, 
 
 1,900,000 
 1,100,000 
 100,000 
 90,000 
 50,000 
 500,000 
 
 100,000 
 12,000 
 40,000 
 50,000 
 80,000 
 20,000 
 100,000 
 150,000 
 80,000 
 10,000 
 60,000 
 60,000 
 30,000 
 50,000 
 25,000 
 18,000 
 40,000 
 
 Empire of Japan, 
 
 Jeddo, 
 
 Kingdom of Siam, 
 
 
 Birman Empire, 
 
 
 
 
 British E. I. Co. Territories, 
 E. I. Co. Dependencies,... 
 Island of Ceylon, 
 
 Candy. 
 
 Kingdom of Stadia, 
 
 Nepaul, 
 Confederacies of the Sikhs, 
 Triumv. of Lindhy, 
 
 
 Heider Abad, 
 Cabaul, 
 
 Kingdom of Cabaul 
 Beloochistan, 
 
 Kelat 
 
 
 Herat, 
 
 Khanate of Boukhara, 
 
 
 
 Khokhan 
 
 Khokhan 
 
 Imanate of Mascate, 
 Yemen, 
 Turkey In Asia, 
 
 
 
 
 Russia in Asia, 
 
 Tobolsk, 
 
 Portuguese Asia, 
 
 Goa, 
 
 
 
 AFRICA. 
 
 Stale*. 
 
 Geo. 
 Sq. Mites. 
 
 Inhabitant*. 
 
 Chief Cities. 
 
 Pop- 
 ulation. 
 
 State of Tunis, 
 Tripoli, 
 
 Felatahs 
 
 130,000 
 40,000 
 
 20S,000 
 KiO.OOO 
 
 48,000 
 100,000 
 i-jo.ixm 
 50,000 
 15,000 
 11)0,000 
 40,000 
 63,000 
 70,000 
 
 100,000 
 
 3fi7,000 
 389,000 
 91,000 
 2,430 
 3,000 
 1 70,000 
 
 4,500,000 
 
 ],MM),000 
 
 000,000 
 
 1,500,000 
 1,000,000 
 2,000,000 
 3,iN)0,ooo 
 1,500,000 
 700,000 
 3,000,000 
 900,000 
 l,f,iM),OOi) 
 840,000 
 2,000,000 
 3,000,000 
 1,440,000 
 870,000 
 908,000 
 135,000 
 1,500,000 
 
 Tunis, 
 Tripoli, 
 Chelicut, 
 
 70,000 
 100,000 
 15,000 
 8,000 
 40,000 
 30,000 
 80,000 
 30,000 
 4,000 
 15,000 
 24,000 
 60,000 
 
 30,000 
 260,000 
 
 18,000 
 7,000 
 10,000 
 50,000 
 
 Fonta Tora, 
 Kingdom of Changamera, 
 
 Tjilgoa, 
 Eoomanie, 
 
 Benin, 
 Zimbaoe. 
 Port Dauphin, 
 
 Ottoman Africa 
 
 Portuguese do 
 English do 
 
 St. Paul de Ixianda. 
 Cape Town, 
 
 
 
 St. Louis, 
 

 
 100 
 
 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 AUSTRALASIA. 
 
 [Australasia, or Oceanica, the fifth division of the globe, was at first called Southern In- 
 dia, and, on account of its numerous islands, Polynesia, or the Island world. Some 
 islands of this portion of the globe were discovered by Magellan, a Portuguese, in the 
 service of Spain, as early as 1521. It takes its name from its southern position 
 
 with regard to the old world. In the 17th century, the Dutch began to explore this 
 part of the ocean, and, besides several small islands, discovered the large island of 
 
 part of the ocean, and, bcsiucs scvciui simm ISICIUUH, mscuvereu inf large isiaiiu 01 
 New Holland. Cook, who circumnavigated the world from 1768 to 1779, made many 
 discoveries in this region, among which were New Caledonia and the Sandwich 
 
 i i..,.,i i 
 
 Islands.] 
 
 States. 
 
 Oeo. 
 Sq. Miles. 
 
 Inhabitants. 
 
 Chief Cities. 
 
 Pop- 
 ulation. 
 
 Kingdom of Siak, (Sumatra,)... 
 
 20,000 
 16,000 
 20,000 
 12,000 
 11,000 
 5,100 
 203,000 
 39,000 
 1,496,000 
 8,000 
 
 600,000 
 500,000 
 260,000 
 360,000 
 300,000 
 130,000 
 9,360,000 
 2,640,000 
 60,000 
 137,000 
 
 Siak, 
 
 12,000 
 
 15,000 
 10,080 
 6,000 
 6,000 
 46,000 
 140,000 
 10,000 
 2,000 
 
 Telosancaouay. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Philippine Islands, (Spanish,)... 
 
 
 
 
 Dille, 
 
 NORTH AMERICA. 
 
 States. 
 
 Sq. Miles. 
 
 Inhabitants. 
 
 Chief Cities. 
 
 Pop- 
 ulation. 
 
 UNITED STATES. 
 
 Republic of the United States,.. 
 Indians in the United States,... 
 
 MEXICO. 
 
 1,009,234 
 
 30,482 
 18,431 
 6,255 
 24,166 
 72,379 
 17,580 
 32,697 
 79,534 
 14,676 
 18,750 
 27,660 
 13,482 
 19,017 
 35,121 
 54,800 
 107,584 
 254,705 
 21,200 
 193,600 
 214,800 
 376,344 
 57,021 
 10 
 10 
 240,000 
 148,000 
 612,297 
 
 2,841,443 
 290,934 
 110,055 
 
 12,859,194 
 313,130 
 
 1,100,000 
 894,000 
 600,000 
 385,000 
 595,000 
 230,298 
 600,000 
 450,000 
 78,056 
 93,750 
 156,740 
 500,000 
 174,957 
 166,824 
 200,000 
 160,000 
 188,036 
 113,419 
 125,400 
 150,000 
 25,400 
 13,419 
 6,000 
 5,000 
 65,000 
 1,550,000 
 65,000 
 
 200,009 
 517,932 
 30G.544 
 
 Washington, 
 
 18,837 
 
 150,000 
 75,000 
 63,000 
 16,000 
 26,000 
 33,000 
 32,000 
 10,000 
 5,000 
 20,000 
 20,000 
 40,000 
 15,000 
 10,000 
 17,000 
 16,000 
 13,000 
 
 9,000 
 10,000 
 1,000 
 
 5,000 
 4,000 
 3,000 
 40,000 
 1,000 
 
 700 
 30,000 
 10,000 
 
 
 
 Puebla, 
 
 
 Guanaxuato, 
 Valladolid, 
 
 
 
 Guadalaxara, 
 
 
 Chiapas, 
 
 San Luis Potosi,.. 
 Tamaulipas, 
 
 Tamaulipas, 
 
 Chihuahua, 
 
 Monterey. 
 Leona Vlcario, .... 
 
 P thuili ' 
 
 T t 'of Sinta Fe 
 
 . Upper California,. . 
 Lower California,... 
 
 
 Loreto. . 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Gautemala 
 
 BRITISH POSSESSIONS. 
 
 New Britain, (Hudson's Bay,)... 
 
 Churchill, 
 
 
 
 York,
 
 POPULATION OF THE WORLD. 
 
 101 
 
 State*. Sq. Miles. 
 
 Inhabitant*. 
 
 Chief Cities. 
 
 Pop- 
 
 nldtion* 
 
 
 24,500 
 30,600 
 485,142 
 10,000 
 558,960 
 -.'!.:<",, 
 
 70,000 
 130,000 
 40,000 
 1,000 
 40,000 
 100,085 
 
 Frederickton, 
 
 500 
 
 16,323 
 12,000. 
 
 700 
 10,000 
 
 
 St. John, 
 
 
 Balize. 
 New Hurnhut,.... 
 
 
 Panama, (N. and S. America,)... 
 
 SOUTH AMERICA. 
 
 States. 
 
 Sq. Miles. 
 
 Inhabitants. 
 
 Ckief Cities. 
 
 Pop- 
 
 vlnrian. 
 
 COLOMBIA. 
 
 53,400 
 29,100 
 43,700 
 48,600 
 53,600 
 76,600 
 195,000 
 332,000 
 14,200 
 58,700 
 251,700 
 
 50,000 
 75,000 
 65,000 
 35,000 
 25,000 
 29,500 
 105,000 
 
 1,150,000 
 575,000 
 330,000 
 95,000 
 90,000 
 . 45,000 
 122,000 
 140,000 
 172,000 
 25,000 
 150,000 
 95,000 
 
 280,000 
 138,000 
 117,000 
 33,000 
 32,000 
 112,000 
 200,000 
 
 80,000 
 94,000 
 450,000 
 250,000 
 110 nnn 
 
 176,988 
 120,960 
 326,840 
 86,017 
 149,342 
 391,426 
 409,921 
 125,822 
 73,488 
 307,614 
 127,894 
 
 300,000 
 87,000 
 85,000 
 279,000 
 287,000 
 250,000 
 350,000 
 
 360,000 
 200,000 
 200,000 
 150,000 
 100,000 
 50,000 
 500,000 
 
 irx),ooo 
 
 460,000 
 
 70(,iMHI 
 4!'n.fKH) 
 150,000 
 
 275,000 
 138,000 
 160,000 
 180,000 
 78,000 
 MO.OOO 
 160,000 
 
 100,000 
 250,000 
 1,700,000 
 1,400,000 
 
 "fxi.nou 
 
 Cartajena, 
 
 15,000 
 20,000 
 28,000 
 7,000 
 8,000 
 38,000 
 16,000 
 4,000 
 20,000 
 52,000 
 25,000 
 
 40,000 
 10,000 
 40,000 
 12,000 
 25,000 
 20,000 
 40,000 
 
 12,000 
 10,000 
 7,000 
 6,000 
 
 30,000 
 
 100,1X10 
 27,000 
 130,000 
 23,700 
 
 90;000 
 
 6,000 
 40,000 
 
 9,000 
 20,000 
 10,000 
 68,000 
 
 54,000 
 
 20. OUT 
 
 Zulia, 
 
 
 
 
 
 Cumana, 
 
 
 Popayan, 
 
 
 Bogota, 
 
 
 Tunja, 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Quito, 
 
 
 
 BOLIVIA. 
 La Paz, 
 
 La Paz 
 
 MOXM, 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Cocbabamba, 
 
 
 Potoei, 
 
 Polo.-i 
 
 BRAZIL. 
 
 Para 
 
 
 Villa Bella 
 
 
 Villa Boa ' 
 
 
 
 Piaubi, 
 
 Oeyraa. 
 Aracaty. 
 Pernambuco, 
 Bahia 
 
 
 
 
 
 Villa Rica . 
 
 
 Rio Janeiro, 
 St Paul 
 
 St. Paul, 
 
 
 Port Allegre. 
 
 Buenos Ayres,.... 
 Cordova. 
 
 LA PLATA. 
 
 
 
 
 Corrientes. 
 St. Miguel. 
 Salta 
 
 
 
 
 Montevideo, 
 Assumption....... 
 
 
 Pu, 
 
 CHILI, 
 
 Santiago,., 
 Paramaribo. .. 
 
 9*
 
 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 WEST INDIES. 
 
 
 State*. 
 
 Sq. Miles. 
 
 Inhabitants. 
 
 Chief Cities. 
 
 Pop- 
 illation. 
 
 Cuba Pinoa, 
 
 &c., 
 
 64,975 
 
 750,000 
 
 
 130,000 
 
 Porto Rico, 
 
 
 4,797 
 
 95,000 
 
 St. Juan 
 
 20 000 
 
 Hayti, 
 
 
 28 300 
 
 950,000 
 
 
 30,000 
 
 
 
 7,350 
 
 380 000 
 
 
 33 000 
 
 Trinidad,.. 
 
 
 3,200 
 
 30,000 
 
 
 13,000 
 
 
 
 3,000 
 
 4,500 
 
 
 2,000 
 
 
 
 2,420 
 
 364,899 
 
 
 18,000 
 
 
 
 3 000 
 
 374 270 
 
 
 12,000 
 
 Dutch 
 
 do 
 
 1 190 
 
 55 000 
 
 
 8,000 
 
 Danish 
 
 
 263 
 
 53 810 
 
 
 6000 
 
 Swedish 
 
 do 
 
 90 
 
 4 002 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 SUMMARY 
 
 OF THE POPULATION OF THE WORLD. 
 
 Europe,.. 
 Asia,.... 
 Africa,. 
 
 Square Miles. 
 ....2,794,052... 
 ...12,404,160.., 
 ..2,136,430... 
 
 Australasia, 1,830,100. . 
 
 North America, 7,811,459. . 
 
 Population. 
 .231,286,914.. 
 .501,384,000.. 
 ..31,453,000.. 
 ..14,347,000.. 
 .23,039,599. , 
 
 Pop. to Sq. Mile. 
 
 83 49-100 
 
 40 42-100 
 
 14 72-100 
 
 7 84-100 
 
 2 94-100 
 
 South America, 6,426,100 12,805,289 1 99-100 
 
 West Indies, 118,585 3,061,411 25 81-100 
 
 33,520,886 817,377,213 24 38-100 
 
 Assuming it as a fact, that the earth contains a population of 1,000,000,000, the fol- 
 lowing division, with reference to their religion, has been calculated : Jews, 2,500,000 ; 
 Christians, 200,000,000 ; Mahometans, 140,000,000 ; Pagans, or Idolaters, 657,500,000. 
 
 POPULATION 
 
 OF SEVERAL OP 
 
 THE LARGEST TOWNS AND CITIES IN EUROPE, 
 
 ROT MENTIONED IN THE TABLE OF POPULATION. 
 
 ENGLAND. Birmingham, 146,986. Bristol, 103,886. Halifax, 112,628. Leeds, 
 123393. Liverpool, 189,244. Manchester, 197,046. Newcastle, 42,760. Norwich, 61,110. 
 Nottingham, 50,680. Plymouth, 40,651. Portsmouth and Portsea, 50,389. Sheffield, 
 76,378. 
 
 SCOTLAND. Aberdeen, 58,019. Edinburgh, 162,403. Glasgow, 202,426. Paisley, 
 57,066. 
 
 IRELAND. Belfast, 37,277. Cork, 107,007. Dublin, 203,652. Galway, 33,120. Kil- 
 kenny, 23,741. Limerick, 66,575. Waterford, 28,821. 
 
 FRANCE. Bourdeaux, 110,000. Castres, 100,000. Lyons, 115,000. Marseilles, 
 110,000. Nantes, 77,061. Rouen, 87,000. Strasburg, 49,056. Toulon, 27,000. Tou- 
 louse, 50,171. Versailles, 27,574. 
 
 AUSTRIA. Gratz, 40,000. Lemberg, 55,500. Milan, 139,580. Pest, 61,100. Prague, 
 117,000. Trieste, 40,530. Venice, 113,297. Verona, 48,000. 
 
 PRUSSIA. Aix-la-Chapelle, 36,809. Breslau, 90,000 . Cologne, 65,441. Dantzic, 
 61,10-2. Konigsberg, 67,941. Magdeburg, 51,046. 
 
 RUSSIA. Cronstadt, 30,000. Kasan, 50,000. Moscow, 246,545. Odessa, 41,500. Ri- 
 ga, 46,762. Tula, 38,000. Wilna, 25,000. 
 
 SPAIN. Barcelona, 60,000. Cadiz, 70,000. Grenada, 66,661. Malaga, 52,375. Sa- 
 ragossa, 55,000. Seville, 80,568. Valencia, 80,000. 
 
 SWITZERLAND. Basle, 16,215. Berne, 20,500. Geneva, 25,000. 
 
 TURKEY. Adrianople, 100,000. Bucharest, 60,000. Bosna, 48,000. Erzerum, 
 125,000. Joannina, 35,000. Salonica, 70,000. Sophia, 50,000. Varna, 25,000. Wi- 
 den, 25,000.
 
 A GOOD BOY. 103 
 
 COMPARATIVE VIEW 
 
 OF THE POPULATION OF 
 
 THE SEVERAL COUNTRIES IN EUROPE AND AMERICA, 
 
 ACCORDING TO THEIR TERRITORIAL LIMITS. 
 
 * * 
 
 EUROPE. England has 229 inhabitants to a square mile. Wales, 99. Scotland, 85. 
 Ireland, 258. Denmark, 121. Sweden, 22. Norway, 11. Russia, 35. Poland. 109. 
 Cracow, 307. Turkey, 84. Greece, 54. Sardinia, 206. Parma, 265. Ionian Isles, 
 965. Lucca, 458. Modena, 142. Monaco, 171. San Marino, 411. Tuscany, 205. 
 State* of the Church, 199. Two Sicilies, 235. Portugal, 121, Spain, 115. Andora, 104. 
 Austria, 165. Prussia, 159. Holland, 330. Belgium, 393. France, 211. Switzerland, 
 181. Germany, 202. 
 
 SOUTH AMERICA. Colombia, 2. Bolivia, 4. Brazil, 1. La Plata, 1 1-3. Banda 
 Oriental, 1 1-5. Paraguay, 2 1-2. Peru, 3 3-4. Chili, 5. Guayana, 1 3-4. 
 
 NORTH AMERICA. Mexico, 4. Central America, 10 1-2. Panama, (N. SL S. A.,) 4. 
 Upper Canada, 2 13-100. Lower Canada, 1 77-100. New Brunswick, 2 85-100. Nova 
 Scotia, 4 24-100. 
 
 WE*T INDIES. Cuba, 11 1-2. Hayti, 33 1-2. Jamaica, 51 3-4. 
 
 According to the last census, the UNITED STATES had 12 73-100 inhabitants to a 
 square mile. Were the United States and Territories as densely populated as Ireland; 
 they would contain more than two hundred and sixty million people. 
 
 A GOOD BOY. 
 
 No mother, or step-mother, who has a son far away, can run her 
 eye over the following acknowledgment of a mother's letter, which 
 we clip from the " Western World," without pronouncing its author 
 " a good boy." In announcing the arrival of a late mail, the editor 
 of that paper beautifully remarks : 
 
 " It also brought us a letter from her who nourished us in infancy ; 
 from her who taught us our alphabet ; a letter in the same hand- 
 writing of the finest copy after which we made our first attempt to 
 trace the forms of letters; yes, a letter from her whose pious lips 
 were the first to tell us of the ' sinfulness of sin,' and the excellence 
 of virtue ; from her whose cheek has paled in nightly watchings, 
 for months together, by the couch, to which, with shackles of pain, 
 disease had bound us ; from her who always acknowledged our joy 
 with a smile, and our woe with a tear ; from her who, though of no 
 kindred blood, has ever loved us with a mother's love ; and who 
 now writes to repeat her warmest prayer that we may meet again 
 on earth, and tell, in terms whose truth we know, that she who thus 
 has ever loved us will love us thus forever. More than two long 
 years have been passed since last we met, and more than the dis- 
 tance of earth's diameter divides us ; and which time and dis- 
 tance may be more than twice double ere we meet again : yet, 
 in reference to her, how warmly do we feel, and how truly say, 
 
 " ' Where'er I go, whatever realms to see, 
 
 My heart, untravelled, fondly turns to thce ' ! "
 
 104 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 A FARMER'S LIFE AND A FARMER'S DUTIES. 
 
 If we were ever envious, it was of the farmer the intelligent, 
 independent, and happy farmer, who owned his land, and his house, 
 and his barns ; who was free from debt, whose family was growing 
 up prosperously around him, upon whom God seemed to have 
 smiled and blessed in his basket and in his store. We have seen 
 such a farmer, and could point to a hundred such ; and, in sober truth, 
 we know of no man so happy, and no business so permanently prof- 
 itable none, indeed, that makes the owner so independent, and 
 places him so far above board. To begin with an independent farm- 
 er : He has his house to live in ; it is his own ; he has earned it 
 by the labor of his hands. He has granaries, filled with the produc- 
 tions of his farm ; his barns with the stock reared and hay raised 
 upon his farm. His cellars are filled with his potatoes, and half a 
 hundred kinds of the necessaries and luxuries of life. Almost every 
 thing necessary to feed him and his family, grows up around him. 
 He may lead his ox to the slaughter, raise his own pork, fatten and 
 kill his own sheep, eat his own poultry, devour his own eggs, live 
 upon his own home-grown and home-made bread, weave his own 
 cloth, raise his own wool and his own leather, knit his own stock- 
 ings, through the agency of his wife and daughters, (after all the 
 two most necessary appendages to a good farm and independent 
 farmer,) make his own butter and cheese ; in short, live like a 
 prince, and dress comfortably, without going from his own home- 
 stead. All this is no fiction ; and it is the fact there is no fiction in 
 this picture, that makes the farmer the most independent man in 
 the community. Fairly in business, he wants less money than 
 almost any man to pursue the even tenor of his way, because his 
 business is of a character to require less money than any other. 
 
 An independent farmer, however, is not altogether independent 
 of the community where he is, or of any business profession ; and 
 the more intelligent a farmer is, the more readily will his inde- 
 pendence be felt and acknowledged. He is only more independent 
 than his neighbor of another profession, but by no means altogether 
 independent of him. For example, he could not consume all that he 
 produced, even if he fed a whole school district instead of his own 
 family. He must have labor in seed time and harvest, and through 
 the summer, to give him a helping hand in the production and hai* 
 vesting of his crops. His laborers must have money. He must 
 have a hundred little knick knacks at home, all of which cost money, 
 and which money is to be had only in the productions of his farm. 
 Taxes must be paid, for the most part in money. Iron does not 
 grow every where, and his tools must be bought and paid for. 
 Horses and oxen want shoeing. There must be ploughs, and axes, 
 and nails, and a hundred other implements, which are cash articles, 
 and which are to be bought with the very money received for the 
 produce carried to market. Again, children are to be educated, and 
 in the establishment of good schools begins the first duty of a good 
 farmer.
 
 A BANK WORTH HAVING A SEASON IN LAPLAND. " 105 
 
 The farmer who is indifferent to education, neither knows his 
 own interest, nor cares a penny for the interest of his children, or 
 his neighbor's children, or the community, or posterity, or any body 
 but himself, now or hereafter. Education, then, costs money; and a 
 good farmer will give abundantly, if he is able, to contribute to the 
 support of all the purposes of education. 
 
 The most independent farmer, then, in the land, may be more in- 
 dependent than his neighbors of another profession. To be happy, 
 and to make his life a useful one, he must be intelligent in pos- 
 session of the means of knowledge especially that kind of knowl- 
 edge which relates to his own profession. He must use the means 
 which God has given him and we have shown that his gifts are 
 abundant, to be happy himself and contribute to the peace and 
 comfort of those around. Injustice to himself, he will employ his 
 evenings in the acquisition of knowledge. He will be a reader of 
 useful books, and a liberal supporter of the public press. Such a 
 fanner as this we have seen ; and one who, in his life, fulfils all his 
 duty to ras God and his fellow-man, is the happiest, the most inde- 
 pendent, and among the best of men. Portland Evening Jldv. 
 
 A BANK WORTH HAVING. 
 
 It is a cry often heard, in these hard times, that the banks won't 
 discount. We know a bank whose vaults are well stored with the 
 richest treasures, which is open to all who are disposed to apply, and 
 which, through all the pressure, has been as ready to discount as in 
 the most prosperous times. This bank has a perpetual charter, and 
 is known as the GRAND BANK OF TERRA FIRMA, an entrance to 
 which may be found on the sunny side of most of our hills. Its 
 keys, which you must grasp without gloves, are the plough, the 
 spade, and the hoe. The only security that is required, is industry, 
 endorsed by temperance ; and it seldom offers any thing but sub- 
 stantial currency. Those who have made themselves lean by com- 
 plaining of hard times, and the scarcity of money, need only try the 
 experiment ; and the sooner they take the responsibility, the better. 
 
 A SEASON IN LAPLAND. 
 
 The quickness of vegetation in hot and cold climates is so aston- 
 ishing as to be perfectly unaccountable, were we not able to refer it 
 to a most exalted wisdom. The following is a calendar of a Sibe- 
 rian or Lapland year : June 23, snow melts : July 1, snow gone ; 
 9, fields quite green; 17, plants at full growth; 25, plants in
 
 106 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 flower : August 2, fruit ripe ; 10, plants shed their seed ; 18, 
 snow ; from August 18 to June 23, snow and ice. Thus it appears 
 that, from their first emerging from the ground to the ripening of 
 their seeds, the plants take but a^month ; and spring, summer, and 
 autumn are crowded into the short space of fifty-six days. Studies 
 of Nature. 
 
 THE LADY-BUG AND THE ANT. 
 
 The Lady-Bug sat in the rose's heart, 
 
 And smiled with pride and scorn, 
 As she saw a plain-dressed Ant go by, 
 
 With a heavy grain of corn. 
 So she drew the curtains of damask round, 
 
 And adjusted her silken vest, 
 Making her glass of a drop of dew 
 
 That lay in the rose's breast 
 
 Then she laughed so loud that the Ant looked up, 
 
 And, seeing her haughty face, 
 Took no more notice, but travelled on 
 
 At the same industrious pace : 
 But a sudden blast of Autumn came, 
 
 And rudely swept the ground, 
 And down the rose with the Lady-Bug bent, 
 
 And scattered its leaves around. 
 
 Then the houseless Lady was much amazed, 
 
 For she knew not where to go, 
 And hoarse November's early blast 
 
 Had brought with it rain and snow. 
 Her wings were chilled, and her feet were cold, 
 
 And she wished for the Ant's warm cell ; 
 And what she did in the wintry storm 
 
 I'm sure I cannot tell. 
 
 But the careful Ant was in her nest, 
 
 With her little ones by her side ; 
 She taught them all like herself to toil, 
 
 Nor mind the sneer of pride : 
 And I thought, as I sat at the close of day, 
 
 Eating my bread and milk, 
 It was wiser to work and improve my time, 
 
 Than be idle, and dress in silk. 
 
 Mrs. Sigourney.
 
 DIFFERENCE IN TIME. ANCIENT FARMS, &C. "107 
 
 DIFFERENCE IN TIME, 
 
 M several Points in the United States. 
 
 We take Philadelphia time as the standard. At 12 o'clock, at 
 noon, at Philadelphia, in north latitude 39 5& 59", and west 
 longitude 75 1(X 59", it is in 
 
 N. Lot. W. Lon. 
 
 I II a i ii hs. min. tec. 
 
 New York, 404240 74 1 8 12 4 39 
 
 NewHaven,Ct 411758 725746 12 8 53 
 
 Boston, 422122 71 4 9 12 16 27 
 
 Eastport, Me 4456 6656 12 33 
 
 Baltimore, Md 391713 763750 11 54 33 
 
 Charleston, S. C 324633 795727 11 40 54 
 
 Cincinnati, 39 554 8427 11 22 56 
 
 Louisville, Ky 38 3 8530 11 18 44 
 
 Mobile, Ala 3040 8811 11 7 
 
 St. Louis,Mi 3836 8936 11 2 20 
 
 LittleRock,Ark 3440 2212 10 51 56 
 
 ANCIENT FARMS. 
 
 The farm of the celebrated Roman, Cincinnatus, consisted of only 
 four acres, the other three having been lost by his becoming security 
 for a friend. Curius, who was celebrated for his frugality, who was 
 three times chosen consul, and thrice honored with a triumph, 
 on returning from a successful campaign, refused from the people a 
 grant of fifty acres, declaring that he was a bad citizen who could 
 not be contented with the old allowance of seven. 
 
 EARLY RISING 
 
 To the fanner is conducive alike to health, to pleasure, and to 
 profit; to health, because it gives exercise when the atmosphere is 
 most cool, pure, and bracing-; to pleasure, because Nature is then 
 in her most lovely garb, and the birds most full of song ; to profit, 
 because the two morning hours effect more in labor, and avert more 
 mischief, than four hours at mid-day. Early rising, and exercise in 
 open air, are the best stimuli for our meals, the best anodyne for 
 sound sleep, the best solace for care, and the best evidence of thrift. 
 " Cowi, boys" is the best reveille upon the farm. The farmer who 
 rises late is generally behind his work ; while he who rises early 
 keeps before it. JUbany Cultivator.
 
 108 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 THE MANSION OF REST. 
 
 I talked to my flattering heart, 
 
 And chid its wild, wandering ways ; 
 I charged it from folly to part, 
 
 And to husband the rest of its days ; 
 I bade it no longer admire 
 
 The meteors which fancy had dressed ; 
 I whispered 'twas time to retire, 
 
 And seek for a Mansion of Rest. 
 
 A charmer was listening the while, 
 Who caught up the tone of my lay. 
 
 " O come then," she cried, with a smile, 
 " And I'll show you the place and the way." 
 
 I followed the witch to her home, 
 And vowed to be always her guest ; 
 
 " Never more," I exclaimed, " will I roam 
 
 In search of the Mansion of Rest" 
 
 
 
 But the sweetest of moments will fly ; 
 
 Not long was my fancy beguiled; 
 For too soon I confessed, with a sigh, 
 
 That the siren deceived while she smiled. 
 Deep, deep did she stab the repose 
 
 Of my trusting and unwary breast, 
 And the door of each avenue close 
 
 That led to the Mansion of Rest. 
 
 Then Friendship enticed me to stray 
 
 Through the long, magic wilds of Romance ; 
 But I found that she meant to betray, 
 
 And shrunk from the sorcerer's glance ; 
 For experience has taught me to know 
 
 That the soul that reclined on his breast 
 Might toss on the billows of woe, 
 
 And ne'er find the Mansion of Rest. 
 
 Pleasure's path I determined to try ; 
 
 But Prudence I met in the way ; 
 Conviction flashed light from her eye, 
 
 And appeared to illumine my day. 
 She cried, as she showed me a grave, 
 
 With nettles and wild flowers dressed, 
 O'er which the dark cypress did wave, 
 
 " Behold there the Mansion of Rest." 
 
 She spoke, and half vanished in air, 
 For she saw mild Religion appear 
 
 With a smile that would banish despair, 
 And dry up the penitent tear. 

 
 COUNSELS. WEIGHT OF CATTLE. 109 
 
 Doubts and fears from my bosom were driven, 
 
 And, pressing the cross to her breast, 
 And pointing serenely to heaven, 
 
 She showed the true Mansion, of Rest. 
 
 Charles J. Fox. 
 
 COUNSELS. 
 
 Though bright thy morn of life may seem, 
 
 Remember clouds may rise ; 
 And trust not to the transient gleam 
 
 Of calm and smiling skies. 
 So tread life's path, in sunshine dressed, 
 
 With lowly, cautious fear, 
 That, when grief's shadows o'er it rest, 
 
 Its memory may be dear. 
 
 If dark life's matin hours may be, 
 
 Despond not at their gloom ; 
 Joy's cloudless sun may rise for thee, 
 
 And hope's bright flowerets bloom. 
 So trace thy pathway, thorn-bestrewed, 
 
 That thou, in happier hours, 
 With pure and pangless gratitude, 
 
 Mayst bless its fragrant flowers. 
 
 Through cloud and sunshine, flower and thorn, 
 
 Pursue thy even way, 
 Nor let thy better hopes be born 
 
 Of things that must decay. 
 Rejoice witli trembling, mourn with hope ; 
 
 Take life as life was given : 
 Its rough ascent, its flowery slope, 
 
 May lead alike to heaven. 
 
 Bernard Barton. 
 
 , WEIGHT OF CATTLE. 
 
 In a country like ours, where great numbers of cattle are annually 
 bought and sold, under circumstances that forbid the ascertaining 
 their weight with positive accuracy, it must be desirable that some 
 general rules, approximating to exactness, should be known, in 
 order to prevent all ground of mistake or collusion on the part of 
 the interested individuals. In Engiand, two or three tables have 
 been constructed by different individuals, founded on the length 
 and girth of the mutual at certain points, ;md based on a vast num- 
 ber of experiments, most carefully made. To illustrate this matter, 
 we have copied from an English work the following tables :
 
 110 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 6'i 
 
 ft. 
 S 
 
 rtk. 
 in. 
 
 ... 
 
 Len 
 ft. 
 ... 3 
 
 gth. 
 
 in. 
 
 6 ... 
 
 Rentorii 
 
 etop.e, 
 
 ... 21 
 
 r Table. 
 
 o 
 
 Gary's 
 stone. 
 21 
 
 Gauge. 
 ib. 
 00 
 
 u 
 
 (( 
 
 ... 4 
 
 ... 
 
 . .. 24 
 
 o 
 
 . 24 
 
 00 
 
 r> 
 
 6 ... 
 
 ... 3 
 
 9 ... 
 
 ... 27 
 
 1 
 
 27 
 
 00 
 
 u 
 
 
 
 ... 4 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 34 
 
 4 
 
 34 
 
 07 
 
 fl 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 4 
 
 6 ... 
 
 ... 38 
 
 8 
 
 38 
 
 
 It 
 
 n 
 
 ... 5 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 43 
 
 1 .. 
 
 . . 43 
 
 00 
 
 r. 
 
 6 ... 
 
 ... 4 
 
 6 ... 
 
 ... 45 
 
 9 . 
 
 . 45 
 
 07 
 
 
 
 
 ... 4 
 
 9 ... 
 
 ... 48 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 48 
 
 00 
 
 7 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 5 
 
 6 ... 
 
 ... 64 
 
 
 64 
 
 07 
 
 
 
 ... 6 
 
 ... 
 
 . .. 70 
 
 5 ... 
 
 ... 70 
 
 03 
 
 8 
 
 . 
 
 . 6 
 
 6 . 
 
 99 
 
 8 . 
 
 , 99 
 
 12 
 
 " " 7 107 5 107 06 
 
 In taking the girth and length of an animal, the manner IS as 
 follows : 
 
 "The girth is taken by passing a line just behind the shoulder- 
 blade, and under the fore-legs ; this gives the circumference of the 
 animal. The length is taken along the back from the foremost 
 corner of the blade-bone of the shoulder in a straight line to the 
 hindmost point of the rump, or to that bone of the tail that plumbs 
 the line with the hinder part of the buttock." 
 
 These lines are then measured by the foot rule, and the weight 
 can readily be calculated from the tables. Some slight difference 
 in weight may be traced in the tables, but the agreement is suf- 
 ficiently close to show that no material error can exist. The tables, 
 according to the English mode of reckoning, are calculated upon 
 the stone of 14 Ibs. avoirdupois. Thus, if the girth is G feet and the 
 length 5 feet, the weight will be 43 stone 1 Ib. or 603 Ibs. Mr. Ren- 
 ton, in his " Grazier's Ready Reckoner," states that for a half-fattened 
 ox, one stone in every twenty must be deducted ; and when they 
 are very fat, one twentieth may be added. No tables can, however, 
 be at all times implicitly relied upon, as there are many circum- 
 stances connected with the build of the animal, the mode of fatten- 
 ing, &c., that will influence the measurement, and consequently the 
 weight. As a general guide, such tables must be useful to the 
 farmer or grazier, for whose use they are of course principally in- 
 tended. Genesee Farmer. 
 
 THE BIRDS OF SPRING. 
 
 My quiet residence in the country, aloof from fashion, politics, 
 and the money-market, leaves me rather at a loss for important occu- 
 pation, and drives me to the study of nature, and other low pursuits. 
 Having few neighbors, also, on whom to keep a watch, and ex- 
 ercise my habits of observation, I am fain to amuse myself with 
 prying into the domestic concerns and peculiarities of the animals 
 around me ; and, during the present season, have derived consider-
 
 THE BIRDS OF SPRING. Ill 
 
 able entertainment from certain sociable little birds, almost the only 
 visitors we have, during this early part of the year. 
 
 Those who have passed the winter in the country are sensible 
 of the delightful influences that accompany the earliest indications 
 of spring ; and of these, none are more delightful than the first 
 notes of the birds. There is one modest little sad-colored bird, 
 much resembling a wren, which came about the house just on the 
 skirts of winter, when not a blade of grass was to be seen, and when 
 a few prematurely warm days had given a flattering foretaste of soft 
 weather. He sang early in the dawning, long before sunrise, and 
 late in the evening, just before the closing in of night, his matin and 
 his vesper hymns. It is true, he sang occasionally throughout the 
 day ; but at these still hours, his song was more remarked. He sat 
 on a leafless tree, just before the window, and warbled forth his 
 notes, free and simple, but singularly sweet, with something of a 
 plaintive tone, that heightened their effect. 
 
 The first morning that he Was heard was a joyous one among the 
 young folks of my household. The long, death-like sleep of winter 
 was at an end ; nature was once more awakening ; they now prom- 
 ised themselves the immediate appearance of buds and blossoms. 
 I was reminded of the tempest-tossed crew of Columbus, when, 
 after their long, dubious voyage, the field-birds came singing round 
 the ship, though still far at sea, rejoicing them with the belief of the 
 immediate proximity of land. A sharp return of winter almost 
 silenced my little songster, and dashed the hilarity of the house- 
 hold ; yet still he poured forth, now and then, a few plaintive notes, 
 between the frosty pipings of the breeze, like gleams of sunshine 
 between wintry clouds. 
 
 I have consulted my book of ornithology, in vain, to find out the 
 name of this kindly little bird, who certainly deserves honor and 
 favor far beyond his modest pretensions. He comes like the lowly 
 violet, the most unpretending, but welcomes! of flowers, breathing 
 the sweet promise of the early year. 
 
 Another of our feathered visitors, who follow close upon the steps 
 of winter, is the Pe-wit, or Pe-wee, or Phoebe-bird; for he is called 
 by each of these names, from a fancied resemblance to the sound 
 of his monotonous note. He is a sociable little being, and seeks 
 tin- habitation of man. A pairof them have built beneath myporch, 
 ;iml have reared several broods there, for two years past, their nest 
 being never disturbed. They arrive early in the spring, just when 
 the crocus and the snow-drop begin to peep forth. Their first chirp 
 spreads gladness through the house. "The Phosbe-birds have 
 come !" is heard on all sides: they are welcomed back like mem- 
 bers of the family ; and speculations are made upon where they 
 h;ive Ix-en, and what countries they have seen, during their long 
 ;il)senre. Tln-ir arrival is the more cheering, as it is pronounced, 
 I iy the old weather-wise people of the country, the sure sign that 
 the severe frosts are at an end, and that the gardener may resume 
 his labors with confidence. 
 
 About this time, too, arrives the blue-bird, so poetically yet truly 
 described by Wilson. His appearance gladdens the whole land- 
 scape. You hear his soft warble in every field. He sociably
 
 112 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 approaches your habitation, and takes up his residence in your 
 vicinity. But why should I attempt to describe him, when I have 
 Wilson's own graphic verses to place him before the reader ? 
 
 When winter's cold tempests and snows are no more, 
 
 Green meadows and brown furrowed fields reappearing, 
 The fishermen hauling 1 their shad to the shore, 
 
 And cloud-cleaving geese to the lakes are a-sleering ; 
 When first the lone butterfly flits on the wing, 
 
 When red glow the maples, so fresh and so pleasing', 
 O, then comes the blue-bird, the herald of spring, 
 
 And hails with his warblings the charms of the season. 
 
 The loud-piping frogs make the marshes to ring ; 
 
 Then warm glows the sunshine, and warm glows the weather ; 
 The blue woodland flowers just beginning to spring, 
 
 And spice-wood and sassafras budding together j 
 O, then, to your gardens, ye housewives, repair 3 
 
 Your walks border up, sow and plant at your leisure j 
 The blue-bird will chant from his box such an air, 
 
 That all your hard toils will seem truly a pleasure ! 
 
 He flits through the orchard, he visits each tree, 
 
 The red flowering peach, and the apple's sweet blossoms ; 
 He snaps up destroyers, wherever they be, 
 
 And seizes the caitiffs that lurk in their bosoms ; 
 He drags the vile grub from the corn it devours, 
 
 The worms from the webs where they riot and welter ; 
 His song and his services freely are ours, 
 
 And all that he asks is, in summer a shelter. 
 
 The ploughman is pleased when he gleans in his train. 
 Now searching the furrows, now mounting to cheer him j 
 The gardener delights in his sweet, simple strain, 
 
 And leans on his spade to survey and to hear him; 
 The slow-lingering school-boys forget they'll be chid, 
 
 While gazing intent, as he warbles before them, 
 In mantle of sky blue, and bosom so red, 
 
 That each little loiterer seems to adore him. 
 
 The happiest bird of our spring, however, and one that rivals the 
 European lark, in my estimation, is the Boblincon, or Boblink, as 
 he is commonly called. He arrives at that choice portion of our 
 year, which, in this latitude, answers to the description of the month 
 of May, so often given by the poets. With us, it begins about the 
 middle of May, and lasts until nearly the middle of June. Earlier 
 than this, winter is apt to return on its traces, and to blight the 
 opening beauties of the year ; and later than this, begin the parch- 
 ing, and panting, and dissolving heats of summer. But in this 
 genial interval, nature is in all her freshness and fragrance : " the 
 rains are over and gone, the flowers appear upon the earth, the 
 time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is 
 heard in the land." The trees are now in their fullest foliage and 
 brightest verdure ; the woods are gay with the clustered flowers of 
 the laurel ; the air is perfumed by the sweet-brier and the wild 
 rose ; the meadows are enamelled with clover-blossoms ; while the 
 young apple, the peach, and the plum, begin to swell, and the 
 cherry to glow, among the green leaves.
 
 THE BIRDS OF SPRING. 113 
 
 This is the chosen season of revelry of the Boblink. He comes 
 amidst the pomp and fragrance of the season ; his life seems all 
 sensibility and enjoyment, all song and sunshine. He is to be 
 found in the soil bosoms of the freshest and sweetest meadows ;- 
 and is most in song when the clover is in blossom. He perches 
 on the topmost twig of a tree, or on some flaunting weed, and, as 
 he rises and sinks with the breeze, pours forth a succession of rich, 
 tinkling notes, crowding one upon another, like the outpouring 
 melody of the sky-lark, and possessing the same rapturous charac- 
 ter. Sometimes he pitches from the summit of a tree, begins his 
 song as soon as he gets upon the wing, and flutters tremulously 
 down to the earth, as if overcome with ecstasy at his own music. 
 Sometimes he is in pursuit of his paramour ; always in full song, as 
 if he would win her by his melody ; and always with the same 
 appearance of intoxication and delight. 
 
 Of all the birds of our groves and meadows, the Boblink was the 
 envy of my boyhood. He crossed my path in the sweetest weather, 
 and the sweetest season in the year, when all nature called to the 
 fields, and the rural feeling throbbed in every bosom ; but when I, 
 luckless urchin ! was doomed to be mewed up, during the livelong 
 day, in that purgatory of boyhood, a school-room. It seemed as if 
 the little varlet mocked at me, as he flew by in full song, and sought 
 to taunt me with his happier lot. O, how I envied him ! No les- 
 sons, no tasks, no hateful school ; nothing but holiday, frolic, green 
 fields, and fine weather. Had I been then more versed in poetry, 1 
 might have addressed him in the words of Logan to the cuckoo 
 
 Sweet bird ! thy bower is ever green ; 
 
 Thy sky is ever clear ; 
 Thou hast no sorrow in thy note, 
 
 No winter in thy year. 
 
 O ! could I fly, I'd fly with thee; 
 
 We'd make, on joyful wing, 
 Our annual visit round the globe, 
 
 Companions of the spring ! 
 
 Further observation and experience have given me a different 
 idea of this little feathered voluptuary, which I will venture to im- 
 part, for the benefit of my school-boy readers, who may regard him 
 with the same unqualified envy and admiration which I once 
 indulged. I have shown him, only as I saw him at first, in what I 
 may call the poetical part of his career, when he in a manner de- 
 voted himself to elegant pursuits and enjoyments, and was a bird 
 <>f music, and song, and taste, and sensibility, and- refinement. 
 While this lasted, he was sacred from injury: the very school-boy 
 would not fling a stone at him, and the merest rustic would pause 
 to listen to his strain. But mark the difference. As the year ad- 
 vances, as the clover-blossoms disappear, and the spring fades into 
 summer, his notes cease to vibrate on the ear. He gradually gives 
 up his elegant tastes and habits, doffs his poetical and professional 
 suit of black, assumes a russet, or rather dusty garb, and enters into 
 10*
 
 114 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 the gross enjoyments of common, vulgar birds. He becomes a bon 
 vivant, a mere gourmand ; thinking of nothing but good cheer, and 
 gormandizing on the seeds of the long grasses on which he lately 
 swung, and chanted so musically. He begins to think there is 
 nothing like " the joys of the table," if I may be allowed to apply 
 that convivial phrase to his indulgences. He now grows discon- 
 tented with plain, every-day fare, and sets out on a gastronomical 
 tour, in search of foreign luxuries. He is to be found in myriads 
 among the reeds of the Delaware, banqueting on their seeds ; grows 
 corpulent with good feeding, and soon acquires the unlucky renown 
 of the ortolan. Wherever he goes, pop ! pop ! pop ! the rusty fire- 
 locks of the country are cracking on every side ; he sees his com- 
 panions falling by thousands around him ; he is the reed-bird, the 
 much-sought-for titbit of the Pennsylvanian epicure. 
 
 Does he take warning and reform ? Not he ! He wings his flight 
 still farther south, in search of other luxuries. We hear of him 
 gorging himself in the rice swamps ; filling himself with rice almost 
 to bursting ; he can hardly fly for corpulency. Last stage of his 
 career, we hear of him spitted by dozens, and served up on the 
 table of the gourmand, the most vaunted of southern dainties, the 
 rice-bird of the Carolinas. 
 
 Such is the story of the once musical and admired, but finally 
 sensual and persecuted Boblink. It contains a moral worthy the 
 attention of all little birds and little boys ; warning them to keep to 
 those refined and intellectual pursuits, which raised him to so high 
 a pitch of popularity during the early part of his career ; but to 
 eschew all tendency to that gross and dissipated indulgence, which 
 brought this mistaken little bird to an untimely end. 
 
 Which is all at present, from the well-wisher of little boys and 
 little birds. Washington Irving. 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF A SISTER. 
 
 1 knew that we must part ; day after day 
 I saw the dread Destroyer win his way. 
 That hollow cough first rang the fatal knell, 
 As on my ear its prophet warning fell ; 
 Feeble and slow thy once light footstep grew ; 
 Thy wasting cheek put on death's pallid hue ; 
 Thy thin, hot hand, to mine more weakly clung; 
 Each sweet " Good night " fell fainter from thy tongue. 
 I knew that we must part no power could save 
 Thy quiet goodness from an early grave. 
 
 Those eyes so dull, though kind each glance they cast. 
 Looking a sister's fondness to the last ; 
 Thy lips so pale, that gently pressed my cheek ; 
 Thy voice alas ! thou couldst but try to speak ;
 
 ON THE DEATH OF A SISTER. 115 
 
 All told thy doom. I felt it at my heart 
 
 The shaft had struck I knew that we must part 
 
 And we have parted, Mary ; thou art gone ! 
 Gone in thy innocence, meek, suffering one ! 
 Thy weary spirit breathed itself to sleep 
 So peacefully, it seemed a sin to weep 
 In those fond watchers who around thee stood, 
 And felt even then that God, even then, was good. 
 Like stars that struggle through the cloud of night, 
 Thine eyes one moment caught a glorious light, 
 As if to" thee in that dread hour 'twere given 
 To know on earth what faith believes of heaven ; 
 Then like tired breezes didst thou sink to rest, 
 Nor one, one pang the awful change confessed. 
 Death stole in softness o'er that lovely face, 
 And touched each feature with a new-born grace ; 
 On cheek and brow unearthly beauty lay, 
 And told that life's poor cares had passed away. 
 In my last hour be heaven so kind to me 
 I ask no more than this to die like thee. 
 
 But we have parted, Mary ; thou art dead ! 
 On its last resting-place I laid thy head, 
 Then by thy coffin-side knelt down and took 
 A brother's farewell kiss and farewell look. 
 Those marble lips no kindred kiss returned ; 
 From those veiled orbs no glance responsive burned. 
 Ah ! then I felt that thou hadst passed away, 
 That the sweet face I gazed on was but clay. 
 And then came Memory with her busy throng 
 Of tender images forgotten long. 
 Years hurried back, and, as they swiftly rolled, 
 I saw thee, heard thee, as in days of old ; 
 Sad and more sad each sacred feeling grew, 
 Manhood was moved, and sorrow claimed her due ; 
 Thick, thick and fast the burning tear-drops started; 
 I turned away, and felt that we had parted. 
 
 But not forever. In the silent tomb, 
 Where thou art laid, thy kindred shall find room ; 
 A little while, a few short years of pain, 
 And, one by one, we'll come to thee again. 
 The kind old father shall seek out the place, 
 And rest with thee, the youngest of his race ; 
 The dear, dear mother, bent with age and grief, 
 Shall lay her head by thine in sweet relief; 
 Sister and brother, and that faithful friend, 
 True from the first, and tender to the end 
 All, all in His good time who placed UB here, 
 To live, to love, to die and disappear,
 
 116 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 Shall come and make their quiet bed with thee, 
 Beneath the shadow of that spreading tree ; 
 With thee to sleep through death's long, dreamless night, 
 With thee to rise, and bless the morning light. 
 
 Charles Sprague. 
 
 ON THE RECEIPT OF MY MOTHER'S PICTURE. 
 
 '" * 
 
 O that those lips had language! Life has passed 
 With me but roughly since 1 heard thee last. 
 Those lips are thine thy own sweet smile I see, 
 The same that oft in childhood solaced me. 
 Voice only fails, else how distinct they say, 
 " Grieve not, my child ; chase all thy fears away ! " 
 The meek intelligence of those dear eyes 
 (Blessed be the art that-can immortalize, 
 The art that baffles Time's tyrannic claim 
 To quench it) here shines on me still the same. 
 
 Faithful remembrancer of one so dear, 
 
 welcome guest, though unexpected here ! 
 Who bidd'st me honor with an artless song, 
 Affectionate, a mother lost so long ; 
 
 1 will obey, not willingly alone, 
 
 But gladly, as the precept were her own ; 
 And, while that face renews my filial grief, 
 Fancy shall weave a charm for my relief, 
 Shall steep me in Elysian reverie, 
 A momentary dream, that thou art she. 
 
 My mother ! when I learned that thou wast dead, 
 Say, wast thou conscious of the tears I shed? 
 Hovered thy spirit o'er thy sorrowing son, 
 Wretch even then, life's journey just begun ? 
 Perhaps thou gav'st me, though unfelt, a kiss, 
 Perhaps a tear, if souls can weep in bliss. 
 Ah, that maternal smile ! it answers, Yes. 
 I heard the bell tolled on thy burial day, 
 I saw the hearse that bore thee slow away, 
 And, turning from my nursery window, drew 
 A long, long sigh, and wept a last adieu ! 
 But was it such ? It was where thou art gone 
 Adieus and farewells are a sound unknown. 
 May I but meet thee on that peaceful shore, 
 The parting word shall pass my lips no more! 
 Thy maidens, grieved themselves at my concern, 
 Ofl gave me promise of thy quick return. 
 What ardently I wished, I long believed, 
 And, disappointed still, was still deceived ;
 
 ON THE RECEIPT OF MY MOTHER'S PICTURE. 
 
 By expectation every day beguiled, 
 
 Dupe of to-morrow even from a child. 
 
 Thus many a sad to-morrow came and went, 
 
 Till, all my stock of infant sorrows spent, 
 
 I learned at last submission to my lot, 
 
 But, though 1 less deplored thee, ne'er forgot. 
 
 Where once we dwelt our name is heard no more ; 
 Children not thine have trod my nursery floor; 
 And where the gardener, Itobin, day by day, 
 Drew me to school along the public way, 
 Delighted with my bawble coach, and wrapped 
 In scarlet mantle warm, and velvet cap, 
 'Tis now Income a history little known, 
 That once we called the pastoral house our own. 
 Short-lived possession ! but the record fair, 
 That memory keeps of all thy kindness there, 
 Still outlives many a storm, that has effaced 
 A thousand other themes less deeply traced. 
 Thy nightly visits to my chamber made, 
 That thou mightst know me safe and warmly laid ; 
 Thy morning bounties ere 1 left my home; 
 The biscuit, or confectionary plum ; 
 The fragrant waters on my cheeks bestowed, 
 By thy own hand, till fresh they shone and glowed; 
 All this, and, more endearing still than all, 
 Thy constant flow of love that knew no fall, 
 Ne'er roughened by those cataracts and breaks) 
 That humor interposed too often makes ; 
 All this, still legible in memory's page, 
 And still to be so to my latest age, 
 Adds joy to duty, makes me glad to pay 
 Such honors to tnee as my numbers may ; 
 Perhaps a frail memorial, but sincere, 
 Not scorned in heaven, though little noticed here. 
 
 Could Time, his flight reversed, restore the hours, 
 When, playing with thy vesture's tissued flowers, 
 The violet, the pink, and jessamine, 
 1 pricked them into paper with a pin, 
 (And thou wast happier than myself the while; 
 Wouldst softly speak, and stroke my head, and smile,) 
 Could those few pleasant days again appear, 
 Might one wish bring them, would I wish them here? 
 I would not trust my heart the dear delight 
 Seems so to be desired, perhaps I might ; 
 But no what here we call our life is such, 
 So little to lx loved, and thou so much, 
 That 1 should ill reunite thee to constrain 
 Thy unbound spirit into bonds again.
 
 118 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 Thou, as a gallant bark, from Albion's coast, 
 (The storms all weathered and the ocean crossed,) 
 Shoots into port at some well-havened isle, 
 Where spices breathe, and brighter seasons smile, 
 There sits quiescent on the floods that show 
 Her beauteous form reflected clear below, 
 While airs impregnated with incense play 
 Around her, fanning light her streamers gay ; 
 So thou, with sails how swift ! hast reached the shore 
 " Where tempests never beat nor billows roar." 
 And thy loved consort on the dangerous tide 
 Of life long since has anchored by thy side. 
 But me, scarce hoping to attain that rest, 
 Always from port withheld, always distressed, 
 Me howling blasts drive devious, tempest-tossed, 
 Sails ripped, seams opening wide, and compass lost, 
 And day by clay some current's thwarting force 
 Sets me more distant from a prosperous course. 
 Yet, O, the thought that thou art safe, and he 
 That thought is joy, arrive what may 4 to me. 
 My boast is not, that I deduce my birth 
 From loins enthroned, and rulers of the earth ; 
 But higher far my proud pretensions rise 
 The son of parents passed into the skies. 
 And now farewell. Time unrevoked has run 
 His wonted course, yet what I wished is done ; 
 By contemplation's help, not sought in vain, 
 I seem to have lived my childhood o'er again ; 
 To have renewed the joys that once were mine, 
 Without the sin of violating thine ; 
 And while the wings of Fancy still are free, 
 And 1 can view this mimic show of thee, 
 Time has but half succeeded in his theft 
 Thyself removed, thy power to soothe me left. 
 
 Coivper. 
 
 FASCINATION OF THE SNAKE. 
 
 * 
 
 The following story is authenticated by Samuel Beach, a 
 naturalist, of two boys in New Jersey, who, being in the woods 
 looking for cattle, lighted by chance upon a large black snake; 
 upon which one of them, an inquisitive imp, immediately resolved 
 to ascertain, by experiment, whether the snake, so celebrated for its 
 powers, could charm or fascinate him.- He requested his companion 
 to take up a stick, and keep a good eye on the snake, to prevent evil 
 consequences, while he made trial of its powers. This, says Mr. 
 Beach, the other agreed to do ; when the first advanced a few steps 
 nearer the snake, and made a stand, looking steadily on hin* 

 
 THE FUTURE LIFE. 119 
 
 When the snake observed him in that situation, he raised his head 
 with a quick motion, and the lad says that at that instant there 
 appeared something to flash in his eyes, which he could compare 
 to nothing more similar than the rays of light thrown from a glass 
 or mirror, when turned in the sunshine ; he said it dazzled his eyes ; 
 at the same time the colors appeared very beautiful, and were in 
 large rings, circles, or rolls, and it seemed to be dark to him every 
 where else, and his head began to be dizzy, much like being over 
 swift-running water. He then says, he thought he would go from 
 the snake ; and as it was dark every where but in the circles, he 
 was fearful of treading any where else ; and as they still grew less 
 in circumference, he could not see where to step ; but as the dizzi- 
 ness in his head still increased, he tried to call his comrade for 
 help, but could not speak ; it then appeared to him as though he 
 was in a vortex or whirlpool, and that every turn brought him nearer 
 the centre. His comrade, who had impatiently waited, observing 
 him move forward to the right and left, and at every turn approach 
 nearer the snake, making a strange, groaning noise, not unlike a 
 person in a fit of the nightmare, could stand still no longer, but im- 
 mediately ran and killed the snake, which was of the largest size. 
 Ho that had been charmed was much terrified, and in a tremor ; his 
 shirt was in a few moments wet with sweat; he complained much 
 of a dizziness in his head, attended with pain, and appeared in a* 
 melancholy, stupid situation for some days. Dr. Bird, 
 
 THE FUTURE LIFE. 
 
 BY WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. 
 
 How shall I know thee in the sphere which keeps 
 
 The diseml>odied spirits of the dead, 
 When all of thee that time could wither, sleeps, 
 
 And perishes among the dust we tread ? 
 
 For I shall feel the sting of ceaseless pain 
 It' there I meet thy gentle presence not, 
 
 ^Tor hear the voice I love, nor read again 
 In thy serenest eyes the tender thought. 
 
 Will not thy nun meek heart demand me there ? 
 That heart whoso fondest throbs to me were given; 
 
 My name on earth tffcs over in thy prayer ; 
 
 Shall it be banished from thy toague in heaven ? 
 
 In meadows fanned by heaven's life-breathing wind, 
 In the resplendence of that glorious sphere, 
 
 And larger movements of the unfettered mind, 
 Wilt thou forget the love that joined us here ?
 
 120 THE FAMILV VISITOR. 
 
 The love tnat lived through all the stormy past, 
 And meekly with my harsher nature bore, 
 
 And deeper grew, and tenderer, to the last, 
 Shall it expire with life, and be no more ? 
 
 A happier lot than mine, and larger light, 
 Await thee there, for thou hast bowed thy will 
 
 In cheerful homage to the rule of right, 
 And lovest all, and renderest good for ill. 
 
 For me the sordid cares, in which I dwell, 
 
 Shrink and consume the heart, as heat the scroll ; 
 
 And wrath has left its scar that fire of hell 
 Has left its frightful scar upon my soul. 
 
 Yet, though thou wear'st the glory of the sky, 
 Wilt thou not keep the same beloved name, 
 
 The same fair, thoughtful brow and gentle eye, 
 Lovelier in heaven's sweet climate, yet the same ? 
 
 Shalt thou not teach me, in that calmer home, 
 The wisdom that I learned so ill in this 
 
 The wisdom that is love till I become 
 Thy fit companion in that land of bliss ? 
 
 FOREIGN MONEYS, 
 
 . 
 
 Taken at the Custom-Houses, as fixed by Law or Custom 
 
 Antwerp, Amsterdam, Rotterdam, and all the Netherlands florins or 
 guilders, 40 cts. Augsburg, Bohemia and Trieste florins, 48 cts. 
 Batavia rix dollar, 75 cts. Brazil guilder, 40 cts. Barcelona and 
 Catalonia livres, 53J cts. Brabant florin, 34 cts. Bremen dollar, 
 75 cts. Bengal sicca rupee, 50 cts. Bombay sicca rupee, 50 cts. 
 Calcutta rupee, 50 cts. Canada pound, and pound of all the British 
 Provinces in N. A., $4. China tale, $1,48. Cayenne livre, 7 to a 
 dollar. Creveld florin, 37 29-100 cts. Crown of Tuscany, $1,05. 
 Current marks, 28 cts. Denmark rix dollar, $1,00. Ducat of Naples, 
 80| cts. England and Ireland pound sterling, $4,80. France franc, 
 185 cts. Florence livre, GJ to a dollar. Genoa new livre, 18J cts. 
 Gibraltar rix dollar, $1,00. Hamburg rix dollar, $1,00. Hamburg 
 marc banco, 331 cts. India pagoda, $1,84. Java florin, 40 cts. 
 Jamaica currency, $3 to the pound. Leghorn dollar, 90 76-100 
 cts. Leghorn livre, 61 to the dollar. Leipsic florin, 48 cts. Louis 
 d'or, or rix dollar of Bremen, 75 cts. Ounce of Sicily, $2,46. Por- 
 tugal mil rea, $1,24. Prussian rix dollar, 68 29-1 00 cts. Prussian 
 florin, 23 cts. Russia rouble, (subject to the rate of exchange on
 
 EFFEMINACY HAPPIXE5S. 121 
 
 London,) 10 15-32 cts. Russia silver rouble, 75 cts. Spain real of 
 plate, 10 cts. fyai'n real of vellon, 5 cts. St. Gull guilder, 4036-100 
 cts. f>u-titin rix dollar, si, 00. .S-/.ron dollar, 56 cts. Su-i'ss livre, 
 27 cts. &wrfo of A///, 40 cts. Turkish piaster, value to be ascer- 
 tained according to the exchange on London. Ticul of Siam, 61 
 7-10 < 
 
 EFFEMINACY. 
 
 Most of the diseases of men arise from effeminate life, or too 
 great indulgence of the passions. Nature created our bodies hardy 
 iuid robust, arid capable of resisting the common influences of 
 cold, and the fatigue necessary in the ordinary duties of life. We 
 ate and render ourselves inadequate for those duties, and for 
 ug these even healthy influences, by a soft, luxurious, or in- 
 ai-tive mode of life. The agriculturist, the huntsman, the manual 
 laborer remain, till late in life, full of energy and ardor. The man 
 surrounded by plenty or superfluity, and by all the delights of ex- 
 istence, falls, in the, midst of them, into passive being. The man- 
 ner of lite of most of us is open to objection. Too close rooms by 
 day and by night; too much nightly clothing; too many drinks 
 calculated to debilitate the stomach ; too much moral and mental 
 excitement; too little bodily exercise, and that little most frequently 
 in tin- streets of cities, not in rustic air; the too sedentary lives 
 of many of our females, who engage, w bile seated the greater part 
 of the day, in works which occupy the fingers only; late hours, 
 night and morning, instead of the reverse ; unseasonable hours of 
 our repasts, and too great intervals between them; fo'od too multi- 
 farious and too rich; these are the sources of much corporeal 
 listlessness, and thence disease. Dick on Diet and Regimen. 
 
 HAPPINESS. 
 
 True happiness is of a retired nature, and an enemy to pomp 
 and noise ; it arises, in the first place, from an enjoyment of one's 
 self; and in the next, from the friendship and conversation of a 
 
 lect companions : it loves shade and solitude, and naturally 
 haunts i. r rn\ev ;,nd fountains, fields and meadows; in short, it feels 
 
 thing it wants within itself, and receives no addition from 
 multitude* df witnesses and spectators. On the contrary, false 
 happiii' -s lo\es to be in a crowd, and to draw the eyes of tin- world 
 upe.n her. She does not receive any satisfaction from the applause 
 which she i:ives li'-rseli; hut from the admiration which she 
 in others. She flourishes in courts and palaces. the-itre> and a>- 
 semhlies, and feels the realities of existence but when she is looked 
 upon. .]' 
 
 11
 
 122 
 
 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 THE FROST. 
 
 | 
 
 The Frost looked forth one still, clear night, 
 And whispered, " Now I shall be out of sight ; 
 So through the valley and over the height 
 
 In silence I'll take my way. 
 I will not go on like that blustering train 
 The wind and the snow, the hail and tlie rain, 
 Who make so much bustle and noise in vain ; 
 
 But I'll be as busy as they." 
 
 Then he flew to the mountain, and powdered its crest ; 
 He lit on the trees, and their boughs he dressed 
 In diamond beads ; and over the breast 
 
 Of the quivering lake he spread 
 A coat of mail, that it need not fear 
 The downward point of many a spear, 
 That he hung on its margin, far and near, 
 
 Where a rock could rear its head. 
 
 He went to the windows of those who slept, 
 And over each pane, like a fairy, crept ; 
 Wherever he breathed, wherever he stepped, 
 
 By the light of the morn, were seen 
 Most beautiful things ; there were flowers and trees ; 
 There were bevies of birds and swarms of bees; 
 There were cities with temples and towers ; and these 
 
 All pictured in silver sheen ! 
 
 But he did one thing that was hardly fair 
 He peeped in the cupboard, and finding there 
 That all had forgotten for him to prepare, 
 
 "Now, just to set them a-thinking, 
 Til bite this basket of fruit," said he ; 
 " This costly pitcher I'll burst in three 
 And the glass of water they've left for me, 
 
 Shall ' tchick ! ' to tell 'them I'm drinking ! " 
 
 Miss H. F. Goidd, 
 
 STATISTICS OF COTTON. 
 
 A writer in the Mobile Journal, under the signature of " Cotton 
 Plant," sets down the entire growth of cotton in the world at 
 1,000,000,000 Ibs. Of this, 550 million are supposed to be grown in 
 the United States 30 in Brazil 8 in the West Indies 27 in K:rypt 
 36 in the west of Africa 1!K) in the west of Asia 35 in Mexico 
 and South America, except Brazil and 14 millions elsewhere. 
 This would give a pound of cotton to every inhabitant on the globe.
 
 TABLES OF LONGEVITY. 
 
 
 
 123 
 
 DR. WIGGLESWORTH'S TABLE, 
 
 Of Observations in New England, (adopted by the Supreme Judicial 
 Court of Massachusetts, as a Rule of estimating the Value of Life 
 Estates, Eastabrook v. Hapgood, 10 Mass. Reports, 313.; 
 
 Ages. 
 
 Penont 
 
 liiing. 
 
 Decrement 
 of life. 
 
 Expectation of 
 life in yenn 
 And decimals. 
 
 Agei. 
 
 Personi 
 living. 
 
 rfTife?" 
 
 Expectation of 
 life In year 
 and decimal!. 
 
 At birth. 
 
 4893 
 
 1264 
 
 28.15 
 
 50 
 
 1288 
 
 27 
 
 21.16 
 
 1 
 
 8629 
 
 274 
 
 
 51 
 
 1261 
 
 27 
 
 
 2 
 
 3333 
 
 188 
 
 
 52 
 
 1234 
 
 27 
 
 
 3 
 
 3167 
 
 132 
 
 
 53 
 
 1207 
 
 27 
 
 
 4 
 
 3035 
 
 84 
 
 
 54 
 
 1180 
 
 27 
 
 
 5 
 
 2951 
 
 38 
 
 40.87 
 
 55 
 
 1153 
 
 27 
 
 18.35 
 
 6 
 
 2893 
 
 55 
 
 
 56 
 
 1126 
 
 27 
 
 
 7 
 
 2838 
 
 47 
 
 
 57 
 
 1099 
 
 27 
 
 
 8 
 
 2791 
 
 40 
 
 
 38 
 
 1072 
 
 27 
 
 
 9 
 
 2751 
 
 36 
 
 
 59 
 
 1045 
 
 27 
 
 
 .10 
 
 2715 
 
 28 
 
 39.23 
 
 60 
 
 1018 
 
 27 
 
 15.43 
 
 11 
 
 2687 
 
 27 
 
 
 61 
 
 991 
 
 27 
 
 
 12 
 
 
 27 
 
 
 62 
 
 964 
 
 27 
 
 
 13 
 
 2633 
 
 27 
 
 
 63 
 
 937 
 
 27 
 
 
 14 
 
 2606 
 
 27 
 
 
 64 
 
 910 
 
 27 
 
 
 15 
 
 2.579 
 
 42 
 
 36.16 
 
 65 
 
 883 
 
 37 
 
 12.43 
 
 16 
 
 2537 
 
 43 
 
 
 66 
 
 846 
 
 37 
 
 
 17 
 
 2194 
 
 43 
 
 
 67 
 
 809 
 
 37 
 
 
 18 
 
 2451 
 
 43 
 
 
 68 
 
 772 
 
 37 
 
 
 19 
 
 2408 
 
 43 
 
 
 69 
 
 735 
 
 37 
 
 
 to 
 
 2363 
 
 43 
 
 34.21 
 
 70 
 
 698 
 
 37 
 
 10.06 
 
 21 
 
 2322 
 
 42 
 
 
 71 
 
 661 
 
 37 
 
 
 22 
 
 2280 
 
 42 
 
 
 72 
 
 624 
 
 37 
 
 
 23 
 
 2238 
 
 42 
 
 
 73 
 
 587 
 
 37 
 
 
 24 
 
 2196 
 
 42 
 
 
 74 
 
 549 
 
 37 
 
 
 25 
 
 2154 
 
 40 
 
 32.32 
 
 75 
 
 511 
 
 37 
 
 7.83 
 
 
 2114 
 
 38 
 
 
 76 
 
 474 
 
 37 
 
 
 
 
 38 
 
 
 77 
 
 437 
 
 37 
 
 
 
 2038 
 
 38 
 
 
 78 
 
 400 
 
 37 
 
 
 
 
 38 
 
 
 79 
 
 363 
 
 37 
 
 
 30 
 
 
 38 
 
 30.24 
 
 80 
 
 
 35 
 
 5.85 
 
 
 I9M 
 
 38 
 
 
 81 
 
 291 
 
 34 
 
 
 
 1886 
 
 38 
 
 
 82 
 
 257 
 
 34 
 
 
 
 1818 
 
 38 
 
 
 83 
 
 223 
 
 34 
 
 
 
 1810 
 
 38 
 
 
 84 
 
 189 
 
 34 
 
 
 
 IT73 
 
 35 
 
 28.22 
 
 85 
 
 155 
 
 21 
 
 4.57 
 
 
 17.57 
 
 35 
 
 
 86 
 
 134 
 
 21 
 
 
 37 
 
 1708 
 
 35 
 
 
 87 
 
 113 
 
 21 
 
 
 38 
 
 1667 
 
 35 
 
 
 88 
 
 92 
 
 20 
 
 
 39 
 
 
 35 
 
 
 89 
 
 72 
 
 20 
 
 
 40 
 
 1597 
 
 35 
 
 26.04 
 
 90 
 
 52 
 
 8 
 
 3.73 
 
 41 
 
 
 35 
 
 
 91 
 
 44 
 
 7 
 
 
 
 
 35 
 
 
 92 
 
 37 
 
 7 
 
 
 43 
 
 
 35 
 
 
 93 
 
 30 
 
 7 
 
 
 44 
 
 1 I.Y7 
 
 34 
 
 
 94 
 
 23 
 
 7 
 
 
 43 
 
 
 27 
 
 23.92 
 
 95 
 
 16 
 
 6 
 
 1.62 
 
 
 
 27 
 
 
 96 
 
 10 
 
 5 
 
 
 
 
 27 
 
 
 97 
 
 5 
 
 3 
 
 
 48 
 
 I54S 
 
 27 
 
 
 98 
 
 2 
 
 1 
 
 
 40 
 
 1315 
 
 27 
 
 
 99 
 
 1 
 
 1 

 
 124 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 * 
 
 For the purpose of comparison with observations in Europe, 
 ST. MAUR'S TABLE is subjoined, taken from observations in Paris 
 and tlie country around it. 
 
 From his observations it appears that of 24,000 children born, the 
 numbers who attain to different ages, are as follows: 
 
 If, from the following table, it is desired to ascertain what proba- 
 bility there is that a man of a given age will attain to any other age, 
 it may be done thus : Suppose the man's age is 30, and it is de- 
 sired to know what his chance is of living till 70 ; make the number 
 opposite 70 the numerator, and the number opposite 30 the denom- 
 inator of a fraction, and that fraction will express the probability 
 sought for, with perfect accuracy. In that case it appears that the 
 probability that a man of 30 will live to 70 years of age is f f f-f- 
 
 ST. MAUR'S TABLE. 
 
 Of the 24,000 born, 
 
 17,540 attain to 2 years. 
 
 15,162 3 
 
 14,177 4 
 
 13,477 5 
 
 12,968 6 
 
 12,562 7 
 
 12,255 8 
 
 12,015 9 
 
 11,861 10 
 
 11,405 15 
 
 10,909 20 
 
 <- 10,259 25 
 
 9,544 30 
 
 8,770 35 
 
 7,729 40 
 
 7,008 45 
 
 6,197 50 
 
 4.564 attain to 60 years. 
 
 3,450 65 
 
 2,544 70 
 
 1,507 75 
 
 807 80 
 
 291 85 
 
 103 90 
 
 71 91 
 
 63 92 
 
 47 93 
 
 40 94 
 
 33 95 
 
 23 96 
 
 18 97 
 
 16 98 
 
 8 99 
 
 6 or 7 100 
 
 5,375 55 
 
 From the preceding table it may be inferred, that, supposing the 
 population in the United States to be 10,000,000, there are of them, 
 
 387,400 under 1 year of age. 
 
 1.194,000 between 1 and 5 years. 
 
 992,300 5 10 
 
 945,300 10 15 
 
 886,730 15 20 
 
 823,800 20 25 
 
 776,500 25 30 
 
 716,650 30 35 
 
 642,050 35 40 
 
 572,300 40 45 
 
 506,050 45 50 
 
 439,400 50 55 
 
 371,100 55 60 
 
 286,900 60 (I.) 
 
 213,050 65 70 
 
 131 ,!>:>() 70 75 
 
 70,650 75 80 
 
 28,800 80 85 
 
 10,250 K.J 90 
 
 3,350 90 95 
 
 820 95 100 
 
 30 or 40 above 100
 
 TABLES OF LONGEVITY ANNUAL MORTALITY. 
 
 A TABLE, 
 
 125 
 
 Shotting the Present Value of an Annuity of One Dollar, from 1 to 
 36 years, the Calculation being made at the rate of 5 per cent, interest - 
 
 per annum. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Years. 
 
 Dolls. 
 
 Cis. 
 
 4.C. Years. 
 
 Dolls. 
 
 Cts. 
 
 fee. 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 95 
 
 23 
 
 19 
 
 12 
 
 08 
 
 53 
 
 
 1 
 
 85 
 
 94 
 
 20 
 
 12 
 
 46 
 
 22 
 
 3 
 
 1 
 
 72 
 
 32 
 
 21 
 
 12 
 
 82 
 
 11 
 
 4 
 
 3 
 
 54 
 
 59 
 
 
 13 
 
 16 
 
 30 
 
 5 
 
 4 
 
 32 
 
 94 
 
 23 
 
 13 
 
 48 
 
 85 
 
 6 
 
 5 
 
 07 
 
 56 
 
 24 
 
 13 
 
 79 
 
 86 
 
 7 
 
 5 
 
 78 
 
 63 
 
 25 
 
 14 
 
 09 
 
 39 
 
 8 
 
 6 
 
 46 
 
 32 
 
 26 
 
 14 
 
 37 
 
 51 
 
 9 
 
 7 
 
 10 
 
 78 
 
 27 
 
 14 
 
 64 
 
 30 
 
 10 
 
 7 
 
 72 
 
 17 
 
 28 
 
 14 
 
 89 
 
 81 
 
 11 
 
 8 
 
 30 
 
 64 
 
 29 
 
 15 
 
 14 
 
 10 
 
 It 
 
 8 
 
 86 
 
 32 
 
 30 
 
 15 
 
 37 
 
 24 
 
 13 
 
 9 
 
 39 
 
 35 
 
 31 
 
 15 
 
 59 
 
 28 
 
 14 
 
 9 
 
 89 
 
 86 
 
 32 
 
 15 
 
 80 
 
 26 
 
 15 
 
 10 
 
 37 
 
 96 
 
 33 
 
 16 
 
 00 
 
 25 
 
 16 
 
 10 
 
 83 
 
 77 
 
 34 
 
 16 
 
 19 
 
 29 
 
 17 
 
 11 
 
 27 
 
 40 
 
 35 
 
 16 
 
 37 
 
 41 
 
 18 
 
 11 
 
 68 
 
 95 
 
 36 
 
 16 
 
 54 
 
 68 
 
 It is believed the foregoing tables will enable a tolerable accountant 
 to estimate the present vajue of a dower or annuity. The rate of 5 
 per cent interest per annum is taken, because the chief object here 
 is to estimate the value of dower ; and experience has shown that 
 in estimating income from real estates, no more than 5 per cent, in- 
 terest per annum can with justice be allowed. 
 
 ANNUAL MORTALITY 
 
 Of tome of the Chief Cities of Europe, and of the United States. 
 
 London, 1 in 40 ; Manchester, 1 in 44 ; Glasgoiv, 1 in 44 ; Paris, 
 Lyons, Barcelona and Strasburg, 1 in 32 ; Geneva, 1 in 43 ; Leghorn, 
 I in 35 ; Berlin, 1 in 34 ; Nice and Palermo, 1 in 31 ; Madrid, 1 m 29 ; 
 Naples, 1 in 28 ; Brussels, I in 26 ; Rome, 1 in 25 ; Amsterdam, 1 in 
 24 ; t'ii'Him, 1 in 22A ; St. Petersburg, 1 in 37 ; Boston, 1 in 41 2t5-100 ; 
 New York, 1 in 37 813-100; Philnd.lphw, 1 in 45 68-100; Baltimore, 
 1 m .T> 1 1-100 ; Charleston, 1 in 364. 
 
 That civilization, and the consequent cleanliness of cities, increases 
 the duration of human life, is evident from the fact, that in London, 
 in l?r>l. tin; mortality was 1 in 21 ; in 1801, 1 in 35 ; in 1811, 1 in 
 1~'21, 1 in 40. In Geneva, a child born there now has five 
 times the expectation of lile than one born there had three cen- 
 turies ago.
 
 126 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 EASTERN BATHING AND CHAMPOOING. 
 
 Among the Mohammedans, baths are as numerous as their 
 mosques. I doubt if in their cities a single street can be found 
 without one or more of them. There is a general conviction in 
 the East, that personal cleanliness is favorable to morality ; wliile, 
 on the other hand, vice and tilth go naturally together. Baths are 
 to be had at all prices. For a single para, (in value about one 
 fourth of a cent,) you are furnished with a private apartment, hot 
 water, a towel and soap, and have liberty to stay half an hour. 
 
 It is common with the Mohammedans to practise ablution before 
 prayer ; and they all bathe once a day at least. But while a bath 
 may be had for a quarter of a cent, they ascend in price, according 
 to the scale of accommodation, until, for some, you must pay five 
 dollars. Separate baths are provided for the sexes ; and the sanc- 
 tity of this separation is such, that a man who should violate it 
 would be in imminent hazard of being murdered on the spot. 
 
 Entering into one of these costly baths, for example, before 
 dinner, you find a chamber, the windows of which are darkened 
 with colored glass and odoriferous plants. The air is cooled by 
 showers from a fountain. Agreeable attendants are provided to 
 amuse you with conversation. Some of these are improvisatori, 
 who will offhand invent for you an interesting tale, in prose or 
 verse ; or, if you prefer music, they will sing you an Arabic song, 
 and accompany it with the guitar. You are then conducted into a 
 warm chamber, and thence into another yet wanner. 
 
 Here, perhaps, you will find singing birds and some books ; but 
 of the latter the native bathers rarely make any use. Your cham- 
 ber grows warmer and warmer, till at length you are glad to pull 
 off your clothes. 
 
 You are then laid out by your attendants on a marble slab. 
 They are armed with gloves made of the Cashmere goat, which is 
 rough, but not sufficiently so to give you pain. They then com- 
 mence the process of champooing you. They draw out every joint, 
 and let it go, till it cracks like a pistol. They twist about your 
 arms ; they bend your elbows, and thence, passing down the back, 
 they proceed in a similar manner, till you hear a report from each 
 one of the vertebra. 
 
 This loosening of the joints is said to give suppleness to the 
 frame ; under which persuasion it was practised, as we know, by 
 athleta;, the runners and the wrestlers of the Greeks. 
 
 They next proceed to a process of violent friction over your 
 whole body, and after it is completed, the skin feels like satin, and 
 partially retains this delightful smoothness for a day or two. I am 
 well persuaded, that half the diseases which prevail among us may 
 be traced to obstructions of the skin ; and that the use of the bath, 
 accompanied by severe friction, conduces in an eminent degree to 
 health and long life. 
 
 After you have undergone this series of cracking and rubbing, 
 they finish off by plunging you into a bath of rose- water, up to your
 
 BIBLE STATISTICS. 127 
 
 neck. You are then furnished with coffee, the chabouque or long 
 pipe, ami with sherbet, a liquor compounded of the juice of the 
 pomegranate, orange, and citron, but contaminated by no admix- 
 ture of alcohol. Buckingham, the Oriental Traveller. 
 
 BIBLE STATISTICS. 
 
 
 
 The .American Bible Society was established in 1816. From that 
 time to 1836, a period of tioenty years, and during which eight hun- 
 dred and four auxiliary societies were formed, the Society issued 
 two million copies of Bibles and Testaments, at an expense of 
 
 A large amount of this sum was produced by legacies, and by 
 sums raised to constitute members for life, of which, in 1836, there 
 VM.TC three thousand two hundred and eighty. 
 
 To show from whence that sum, devoted to this holy cause, was 
 derived, we state, for the consideration of the Christian community, 
 that, in the aforesaid period of twenty years, the six New England 
 States, with a population, in 1830, of 1,954,704, contributed the sum 
 .'), or at the rate of thirteen cents and six mills to each 
 inhabitant; New York, with a population of 1,919,132, contributed 
 *-}-\ !.('? 1. or twelve cents and five mills to each inhabitant ; the 
 cither nineteen States and three Territories, with a population of 
 8,985,358, contributed $361,670, or four cents and a quarter of a mill 
 to each individual; and that the aggregate population of the 
 Tinted States, in 1830, being 12,859,194, die proportion to each in- 
 habitant, for the twenty yearn, was six cents and seven mills. 
 
 Although the Bible Las been translated into one hundred and 
 titty-eight different languages, and more than sixteen million copies 
 have !( a distributed by various societies in Christendom, still, 
 more than tico hundred millions of the human family are entirely 
 destitute of that inestimable treasure. 
 
 us look, for a moment, and see what the people of the United 
 States can do. without any great inconvenience to themselves, to 
 supply those millions of immortal souls, who are now literally star- 
 ving lor the bread of life. 
 
 There ,-iro annually consumed, in the United States, no less than 
 twelve million pounds of tea; eighty million pounds of coffee; 
 thirty-five million pounds of tohacco ; and forty-five million gallons 
 c-f ardent spirits. The average price of hyson tea, for forty years, 
 from 17!r> to IK 55, was 1.16 a pound ; of coffee, 22 cents a pound; 
 of unmitnvfactured tobacco, 8 cents a pound; and of New Eng- 
 .i:m. .YJ cents a irallon. The annual cost of tea is, therefore, 
 ^toflOO; of coffee, $17,600,000 ; of tobacco, $2,800,000; and of 
 rum, .<,':{, 400,000. Thus the total value of four articles annually 
 consumed in the United Suites, the habitual use of all which are 
 supposed to be more or less repugnant to health and longevity,
 
 128 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 amounts to the enormous sum of $57,720,000 ; or sixty-six times 
 more in one year than has been given to the Bible cause in twenty. 
 
 Suppose the people of the United States should reduce their ex- 
 penditure on those articles only ten per cent, (a tax or tithe which the 
 good people of England annually pay for the support of the clergy, 
 from their hard-earned necessaries of life,) and pay that ten per cent, 
 towards the dissemination of a book whose Author is God, an 
 annual amount would accrue of $5,772,000 ; which, m Jive years, 
 would give a handsome octavo Bible to every family of ten persons 
 included in those two hundred millions of miserable idolaters, on 
 whom no ray of gospel light has ever shone. 
 
 In 1836, there were, in the United States, more than a million and 
 a half of adult persons, who professedly belonged to four sects or 
 denominations of what is termed orthodox Christians. Now, an 
 animal present of a dollar, or the value of a pound of tea, from 
 each of these disciples of Christ, to this Society, would, in the 
 course of nineteen years, produce the same glorious result. 
 
 THE JEWESS. 
 
 A Tradition of the Rabbis. 
 
 The celebrated teacher Rabbi Meir sat during the whole of one 
 Sabbath day in the public school, instructing the people. During 
 his absence from the house, his two sons died, both of them of un- 
 common beauty, and enlightened in the law. His wife bore them 
 to her bed-chamber, laid them upon the marriage-bed, and spread a 
 white covering over their bodies. In the evening the Rabbi Meir 
 came home. 
 
 She reached him a goblet. He praised the Lord at the going out 
 of the Sabbath, drank, and asked 
 
 " Where are my two sons, that I may give them my blessing ? I 
 repeatedly looked round the school, and I did not see them there. 
 Where are my, sons, that they, too, may drink of the cup of 
 blessing ? " 
 
 " They will not be far off," she said, and placed food before him, 
 that he might eat. 
 
 He was in a gladsome and genial mood ; and when he had said 
 grace after the meal, she thus addressed him : 
 
 " Rabbi, with thy permission 1 would fain propose to thee one 
 question." 
 
 " Ask it, then, my love," he replied. 
 
 " A few days ago, a person intrusted some jewels to my custody ; 
 now he demands them again. Should 1 give them up ?" 
 
 "This is a question," said Rabbi Meir, "which my wife should 
 not have thought it necessary to ask. What! wouldst thou hesitate 
 or be reluctant to restore to every one his own ? "
 
 WATER. 129 
 
 "No," she replied ; "but yet I thought it best not to restore them 
 without acquainting tliee therewith." 
 
 She then led him to thu chamber, arid stepping to the bed, took 
 the white covering from the dead bodies. 
 
 ' Ah ! my sons, my sons ! " thus loudly lamented the father ; " my 
 sons! the light of my eyes, and the light of my understanding ! I 
 \\a> your lather, but ye were my teachers in the law." 
 
 The mother turned away, and wept bitterly. At length she took 
 her husband by the hand, and said 
 
 '" Rabbi, didst thou not teach me that we must not be reluctant to 
 restore that which was intrusted to our keeping? See, the Lord 
 gave, and the Lord has taken away, and blessed be the name of the 
 Lord." 
 
 <* Blessed be the name of the Lord," echoed Rabbi Meir; "and 
 hlev-ed he his name for thy sake, too ; for well it is written, " Whoso 
 hath found a virtuous wife hath a greater treasure than costly 
 pearls ; she openeth her mouth with wisdom, and in her tongue is 
 the law of kindness." 
 
 WATER. 
 
 Sir John Floyer, an eminent physician, who died in 1720, says 
 "Water-drinkers are temperate in their actions, prudent, and inge- 
 nious ; they live safe from those diseases which affect the head 
 such as apoplexies, palsies, pain, blindness, deafness, gout, convul- 
 sions, trembling, and madness. It (water) resists putrefaction, and 
 cools burning heats and thirsts ; and after dinner it helps digestion." 
 
 "That good and pure water has a balsamic and healing quality in 
 it, 1 could give many instances, as well externally in curing of 
 wounds, as internally as ulcers, excoriations, &c. For I once 
 Iviirw a gentleman of plentiful fortune, who, by some accident, fell 
 to deca\ ; and, having a numerous family of small children, whilst 
 the llit her was a prisoner in the King's Bench, his family was re- 
 dueed almost to want; his wile and children living on little better 
 than bread and water. But I never saw such a change in six months' 
 time, as I did in this unhappy family ; for the children that w r ere 
 always ailing, and valetudinary, as coughs, king's evil, &c., were 
 recovered to a miracle, looked fresh, well-colored, and lusty, their 
 tlesh hard and plump. But, I remember, the mother told me, it 
 being a plentiful year of fruit, she gave them often baked apples 
 with their coarse bread, which, I think, might very much contribute to 
 their health. And that most remarkable story of Alexander Selkirk, 
 a Scotchman, who, from a leaky ship, was, upon his own request, 
 .-t on ^iore on an island in the South Sea, called Juan Fernandez, 
 about the latitude of thirty-three degrees, where he lived four years 
 arul four months by himself alone, and ate nothing but goats' flesh, 
 and drank irnltr, having neither bread nor salt, as he told me him- 
 self', at the Hath \\here 1 met him; and that he was three times as 
 strong, by exercise and such a diet, as ever he was in his life. But
 
 130 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 when taken up by the two ships, the Duke and Duchess, sent out 
 from Bristol for the South Sea, that eating the ship-fare with the 
 other seamen, and drinking beer and other fermented liquors, his 
 strength by degrees began to leave him, like cutting off' Samson's 
 hair, crinitum, (to make a word,) or lock by lock, so that in one 
 month's time, he had not more strength than another man. I insert 
 this relation to show that water is not only sufficient to subsist us 
 as a potulent, (drink,) but that it liquefies and concocts our food 
 better than any fermented liquors whatsoever ; and even those 
 strong spirituous drinks, were it not for the watery particles in 
 them, would prove altogether destructive, and so far from nourishing 
 that they would inflame and parboil the tunicles of our stomachs, 
 as is daily seen, and especially in the livers of most clareteers, and 
 great drinkers of other strong liquors." 
 
 Pomponius Atticus, the friend of Cicero, to whom so many works 
 and letters of the latter are addressed, whilst laboring under that 
 uncomfortable state of the mind produced by disease of the stomach, 
 became disgusted with life, and resolved to destroy himself. He 
 called together his relations and friends, to communicate to them 
 his design, and to consult with them upon the species of death he 
 should make choice of. Agrippa, his son-in-law, not daring openly 
 to oppose his resolution, persuaded him to destroy himself by 
 famine ; advising him, however, to make use of a little water to 
 alleviate the sufferings which would at first result from entire 
 abstinence. Atticus commenced this regimen, whilst he conversed 
 with his family, philosophized. with his intimate friends, and passed 
 many days in thus preparing himself for death. This, however, 
 did not occur; on the contrary, by restricting himself solely to 
 water as his only nourishment, the pains of the stomach and bowels, 
 by which he had been previously tormented, ceased; and he 
 speedily felt himself improved in health, and more tranquil in mind. 
 Agrippa now attempted to convince him, that as the disease under 
 which he had labored was happily removed, he ought to renounce 
 his design of putting a period to his existence. Atticus confessed, 
 at length, the justness of his son-in-law's argument : he accordingly 
 followed his advice, and lived until a very advanced age. 
 
 WOMEN, WIVES, AND MARRIAGE. 
 
 <* 
 
 The following is an extract from Henry's Commentary on the 
 Bible: 
 
 " Adam was first formed, then Eve, and she was made of the 
 man, and for the man, all which are urged as reasons for the 
 humility, modesty, silence, and submissiveness of that sex in general, 
 and particularly the subjection and reverence which wives owe to 
 their husbands. Yet man being made lord of the creation, as tin; 
 best and most excellent of all, Eve being made after Adam, and out 
 of him, puts an honor upon that sex as the glory of the man. If
 
 \VOMKX, WIVES, AND MARRIAGE. 131 
 
 man is the head, she is the crown, a crown to her husband, the 
 crown to the visible creation. The man was dust refined, but the 
 woman was dust double refined, one remove farther from the earth. 
 " Woman was made out of a rib out of the side of Adam ; not 
 made of his head to top him : nor out of his feet to be trampled 
 upon by him ; but out of his side, to be equal with him ; under his 
 arm to be protected ; and near his heart, to be beloved." 
 
 It is said, that among the most curious specimens of Hindoo liter- 
 ature, is a peoin entitled the "Ocean of Wisdom." One of the 
 chapters contains the following remarks on the duty of wives: 
 
 " She is the true helpmate, who, possessing an amiable temper 
 and prudent disposition, proportions her expenditure to her hus- 
 band's income. The goodness of her heart will manifest itself in 
 feeding holy hermits, in graciously entertaining her husband's 
 -, and in showing mercy to the poor. Her prudence will be 
 displayed in providing personally for the future wants of her family, 
 in preparing her husband's meals with regularity, and in maintaining 
 the just reputation of a good manager. She will take care so to 
 arrange the current expenditure, as not to encroach on the capi- 
 tal of her husband's property. Where such conduct in the wife is 
 wanting, though the house should overflow with gold, yet shall it 
 prove to the owner no better than an empty hovel." 
 
 Where will our sorrows receive the same solace as in the bosom 
 of our family ': Whose hand wipes the tear from our cheek, or the 
 chill of death from our brow, with the same fondness, as that of the 
 wit'e? If the raging elements are contending without, here is a 
 shelter. If war is desolating the country, here is peace and tran- 
 quillity. Hiissful and happy hour, that unites us together in sweet 
 and holy companionship, I bid you a joyful welcome. J\L Muttson. 
 
 King James the First wrote on a copy of " Godly Letters," be- 
 longing to his daughter, and printed in 1614, as follows: 
 
 u \ good wife is to God zelus, 
 t IHT husband chast, to the poore 
 Pitt-full to neighbours gentell, 
 to her cheledren example, 
 all which God grante you my 
 Good daughter for his sonne 
 Cristes sake." 
 
 "Never marry," says William Penn, "but for love; but sec that 
 thou Invest what is lovely. If love be not thy chief motive, thou wilt 
 soon irruw weary of a marrhge State, and stray from thy promise, to 
 i nut. pleasure in forbidden places. It is the difference be- 
 tween love ,-n.il passion, that this is fixed, that is volatile. They that 
 marry for money cannot have the true satisfaction of marriage, the 
 requisite means being wanting. O how sordid is man grown ! man, 
 the noblest creature in the world! As a god on earth, and the image
 
 132 
 
 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 of Him that made us, thus mistake earth for heaven, and worship 
 gold for God." 
 
 COMPARATIVE VALUE OF FIRE WOODS. 
 
 The following table will be found valuable to house-keepers, in 
 assisting them to form an estimate of the comparative value of fire 
 woods, in a seasoned state, or when burnt to charcoal. It may be 
 well to explain the table, so far as to say, that if shellbark hickory, 
 the standard, is worth $8 a cord, white oak is worth $6.48 ; chest- 
 nut, $4.16 ; Lombardy poplar, $3.20 ; and other kinds in that pro- 
 portion. In another publication, it is stated that a cord of wood, 
 when green, contains 1443 pounds of water. 
 
 WOODS. 
 
 "g. 
 ft 
 
 II 
 
 1* 
 
 
 
 Pounds of dry 
 Wood in one Cord. 
 
 5. 
 
 fa 
 Co 
 
 f 
 
 * 
 
 Pounds of Charcoal 
 in one Bushel. 
 
 Pounds of Charcoal 
 from one Cord of 
 dry. Wood. 
 
 Bushels of Charcoal] 
 from one Cord of\ 
 dry Wood. 
 
 1| 
 
 jS 55 
 > 
 
 Shellbark Hickory, 
 
 1.000 
 
 4469 
 
 .625 
 
 32.89 
 
 1172 
 
 36 
 
 100 
 
 Common \Valnut, 
 
 .949 
 
 4241 
 
 .637 
 
 33.52 
 
 1070 
 
 T> 
 
 95 
 
 White Oak 
 
 .855 
 
 3821 
 
 .401 
 
 21.10 
 
 826 
 
 S9 
 
 81 
 
 Thick Shellbark Hickory, 
 White Ash, 
 
 .829. 
 .722 
 
 3705 
 3450 
 
 .509 
 .547 
 
 26.78 
 
 28.78 
 
 848 
 888 
 
 32 
 
 31 
 
 81 
 77 
 
 
 .747 
 
 3339 
 
 .392 
 
 20.63 
 
 774 
 
 SR 
 
 73 
 
 Witch Hazel 
 
 784 
 
 3505 
 
 .368 
 
 19.36 
 
 750 
 
 39 
 
 72 
 
 
 .G97 
 
 3115 
 
 .445 
 
 23.41 
 
 779 
 
 ss 
 
 70 
 
 Red Oak 
 
 .728 
 
 2254 
 
 .400 
 
 21.05 
 
 630 
 
 so 
 
 69 
 
 
 .703 
 
 3142 
 
 .400 
 
 21.05 
 
 696 
 
 33 
 
 67 
 
 Black Walnut 
 
 .681 
 
 3044 
 
 .418 
 
 22.00 
 
 687 
 
 31 
 
 65 
 
 White Beech, 
 
 .724 
 
 3236 
 
 .518 
 
 27.26 
 
 635 
 
 93 
 
 65 
 
 
 .697 
 
 3115 
 
 .428 
 
 22.52 
 
 604 
 
 27 
 
 63 
 
 Yellow Oak 
 
 .653 
 
 2919 
 
 .295 
 
 15.52 
 
 631 
 
 41 
 
 60 
 
 
 .644 
 
 2878 
 
 .431 
 
 22.68 
 
 617 
 
 97 
 
 60 
 
 
 .618 
 
 2762 
 
 .427 
 
 22.47 
 
 624 
 
 28 
 
 59 
 
 White Elm 
 
 580 
 
 2592 
 
 .357 
 
 18.79 
 
 644 
 
 34 
 
 58 
 
 Holly 
 
 .602 
 
 2691 
 
 .374 
 
 19.68 
 
 613 
 
 31 
 
 57 
 
 Wild Cherry, 
 
 .597 
 
 2668 
 
 .411 
 
 21.63 
 
 579 
 
 27 
 
 55 
 
 Yellow Pine 
 
 551 
 
 2463 
 
 .333 
 
 17.52 
 
 585 
 
 33 
 
 54 
 
 Sycamore, or Buttonwood. 
 
 .535 
 .522 
 
 2391 
 2333 
 
 .374 
 .379 
 
 19.68 
 19.94 
 
 564 
 590 
 
 29 
 30 
 
 52 
 
 52 
 
 
 .548 
 
 2449 
 
 .362 
 
 19.05 
 
 562 
 
 30 
 
 52 
 
 
 .563 
 
 2516 
 
 .383 
 
 20.15 
 
 549 
 
 27 
 
 52 
 
 
 .567 
 
 '2534 
 
 .237 
 
 12.47 
 
 527 
 
 49 
 
 51 
 
 White Birch, 
 
 530 
 
 23G9 
 
 .364 
 
 19.15 
 
 450 
 
 94 
 
 48 
 
 
 .478 
 
 2137 
 
 .385 
 
 20.26 
 
 532 
 
 96 
 
 48 
 
 Pitch Pino, 
 
 .426 
 
 1904 
 
 .298 
 
 15.68 
 
 510 
 
 33 
 
 43 
 
 White Pine 
 
 .418 
 
 1868 
 
 .293 
 
 15.42 
 
 455 
 
 30 
 
 42 
 
 
 397 
 
 1774 
 
 .245 
 
 12.89 
 
 444 
 
 34 
 
 40 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 The above table is abridged from Browne's Sylva Americana. The
 
 LARGE HOTELS. 133 
 
 estimates are the result of experiments made by Marcus Bull, and 
 may be deemed accurate. 
 
 Mr. Browne, in the preface to his valuable work on American 
 forest trees, makes the following judicious remarks : 
 
 " From the sensible decay and general havock made in our forests, 
 we should be reminded, that such as do yet remain entire, may be 
 carefully preserved, and the loss of such as are destroyed sedulously 
 repaired. There is no part of husbandry which men more com- 
 monly neglect than that of planting trees; without which they can 
 neither expect fruit, ornament, nor delight, from their labors. But 
 they seldom do this till they begin to be wise, that is, till they grow 
 old, and find by experience the prudence and necessity of it. When 
 ->'s, after a ten years' absence, was returned from Troy, and 
 found his aged father in the field planting trees, he asked him, 'why, 
 huntr now M> far advanced in years, he would put himself to the fa- 
 tigue and labor of planting that, of which he was never likely to en- 
 joy the fruits.' The good old man, taking him for a stranger, gently 
 replied, ' I plant against my son Ulysses comes home.' " 
 
 LARGE HOTELS. 
 
 Of late 3"ears, there has existed a spirit of competition among those 
 interested in erecting buildings for public entertainment in our 
 cities, which has brought into being a number of hotels, or coffee 
 houses, of great size, and, in point of splendor, equal, if not superior, to 
 any in Europe. We mention a few of them merely as among the /tons 
 of the day ; for it is the opinion of many intelligent travellers, that 
 taverns of more moderate dimensions, even many of the smallest 
 class in our country towns, are full as comfortable, and are likely to 
 continue so, unless landlords adopt the principle of graduating the 
 fjwtlity of their coffee by the size of their buildings. 
 
 The Tremont House, on Tremont and Beacon streets, Boston, is 
 unrivalled for beauty, though excelled by others in size. Its front, 
 on Tremont street, of dark-colored hewn granite, is 160 feet in 
 length, and three stories high. The wings are four stories high. 
 That on Beacon street is 84 by 34 feet ; and the other, on the south, 
 fronting an open square, is 110 by 40 feet. The dining hall is 70 by 
 W. and 14 feet high. This building contains 180 rooms. It was 
 completed on the 10th of Oct 1829. 
 
 Ts Hotel, New York. This granite building is 100 feet on Ful- 
 ton street, 85<J on Water street, 76 on Pearl street, and seven stories 
 high. From the ground to the top of the cornice is 75 feet; and to 
 the tup of the dome, which surmounts the building, is 125 feet It 
 fronts cm Wat<T street and the East River. It has three large din- 
 ing halls, 25 parlors, and 137 other rooms. In this house 1000 per- 
 sons may dine, and 300 lodge, with convenience. An Artesian well, 
 12
 
 134 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 of 700 feet in depth, is sunk in the cellar, which furnishes a constant 
 supply of excellent water, and which is conveyed, by steam power, 
 to every room in the house ; and to large reservoirs on the top of 
 the building, to be used in case of fire. This spacious and conve- 
 nient resort for travellers is in the centre of business, and near the 
 landing-places of numerous steam-boats. It was constructed in 1832, 
 and is a noble monument of the enterprise and perseverance of the 
 worthy men whose name it bears. 
 
 The Aslor Hotel, in New York, built and owned by John Jacob 
 Astor, Esq., of that city, was completed in 1836. This immense 
 structure is situated on Broadway, and occupies the block opposite 
 the Park. Its exterior is of beautiful Quincy granite, 200 feet on 
 Broadway, 154 on Barclay street, and 147 on Vesey street It is 
 five stories in height, and 77 feet from the ground to the top of the 
 cornice. The wings of this building form a court, or hollow square, 
 of about 70 by 100 feet, so that the rooms on all sides receive light 
 and air from the streets and centre. The main entrance to the hotel 
 is in the centre of the building on Broadway, and opens to a splen- 
 did vestibule, supported by columns; the floor of which, and of the 
 halls below, are of mosaic work of blue and white marble. The 
 basement story is divided, and comprises twenty commodious stores. 
 The whole number of rooms in this building is 390. The gentle- 
 men's dining-room is 100 feet by 40, and 20 feet in height ; the la- 
 dies' dining-room is about 50 by 45 feet. Between 80 and 100 ser- 
 vants are in constant attendance. The kitchen is on a level with 
 the dining-rooms, in which the arrangements for cooking, in all its 
 various forms, are upon the most modern and improved methods. 
 Beneath the kitchen are the laundry and wash-rooms, where, by the 
 multiplication of stationary wash-tubs, and the power of steam, 
 clothes may be washed, dried, and ready for use, in half an hour 
 after they are given to the laundress. The clothes are dried in five 
 minutes, by spreading them on horses that run on railroads into a 
 close apartment heated to a high temperature by steam. Under the 
 laundry and wash-room is the steam power, a rotary engine, which 
 pumps water to four large reservoirs under the roof, supplies steam 
 to the kitchen and wash-room, and cold and warm water to the 
 bathing-rooms and to every chamber in the house. This engine, 
 after pumping water, cooking victuals, washing, ironing, and drying 
 clothes, grinding coffee, cleaning the knives and forks, boots and 
 shoes, and performing numerous other jobs about the house, has a 
 considerable power in reserve. It is said that this busy-body cost 
 about $1000, and that its average expense for fuel does not exceed 
 $1.25 a day. This establishment is so extensive, that the inhabit- 
 ants of a good-sized town may hold public meetings, take their 
 meals, and lodge within its walls, without jogging each other's 
 elbows. 
 
 The Exchange Hotel, at New Orleans, lately completed, is said to 
 be the largest hotel in the world. It is 228 feet in front, by 196 
 throughout ; six stories high, surmounted by a dome and tower, the 
 top being 113 feet from the ground. It contains 350 rooms. The
 
 LADIES' SHOES LYNN, MASS. 1:35 
 
 dining-hall is 130 feet long by 50, and 22 feet high, with parallel 
 columns, in the Corinthian order, on either side. The ladies' dining- 
 room, over the bathing-house, is 60 feet by 36. A superb marble, 
 statue of Washington, made in Italy, by Carlo Richi, the gift of 
 John Hagan, Esq., and which cost $14,000, is placed in the centre 
 of the colonnade, at the entrance of the grand saloon. This statue, 
 which is an exact likeness, represents the Father of his Country in a 
 sitting posture, clothed in the Roman toga and armor, holding in 
 his left hand his Farewell Address, having his right uplifted as if in 
 the act of speaking, and his sword lying at his feet. This building, 
 with its furniture, is said to have cost $670,000. 
 
 The public would be benefited by notices being more generally 
 given in our books of reference, of the numerous respectable houses 
 of public entertainment in our country. A. good house is an impor- 
 tant item of information to the traveller ; and so far as the New 
 England states are concerned, the editor will cheerfully notice them 
 in the Northern Refrister, provided those interested will give 
 him their locations and other necessary facts. 
 
 LADIES' SHOES Lynn, Mass. 
 
 It is curious to observe the changes that occur in the fashion and 
 manufacture of many articles of dress, during the common age of 
 man. Ladies' shoes, for instance, have undergone a complete met- 
 amorphosis in the course of seventy years. The history of the town 
 of Lynn, in Massachusetts, is identified with the manufacture of that 
 article. 
 
 " In olden times," says the Newburyport Herald, " ladies' shoes 
 were made in Lynn of common woollen cloth, or coarse curried 
 leather; afterwards of stuffs, such as cassimere, everlasting, shalloon, 
 and russet ; some of satin and damask, others of satin lasting and 
 florentine. They were generally cut with straps, for large buck Icy, 
 which wore worn in those days by women as well as men. Ladies' 
 shoes, 60 or 70 years ago, were made mostly with white and russet 
 rands, and stitched very fine on the rand with white-waxed thread. 
 Some were made turn pumps and channel pumps, all having wooden 
 heels, called cross-cut, common, and court heels. Then the cork, plug, 
 and wedge or spring heels, came into use. The sole-leather was 
 ull worked with the flesh side out. 
 
 Previous to the war of the revolution, the market for Lynn shoes 
 was principally confined to New England ; some few, however, 
 were exported to Philadelphia. Many individuals with small capi- 
 tal carried on the business in their own families. Fathers, sons, ;ip- 
 prentices, and one or two journeymen, all in one small shop, with a 
 chimney in one corner, formed the whole establishment. 
 
 After the revolution, the business assumed a different aspect.
 
 136 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 Enterprising individuals embarked in the business in good earnest ; 
 hired a great number of journeymen, built large shops, took appren- 
 tices, and drove the business. Master workmen shipped their shoes 
 to the south, so that Lynn shoes took the place of English and other 
 imported shoes. Morocco and kid leather, suitable for shoes, began 
 to be imported from England, which soon took the place of stuffs. 
 Roan shoes were now little called for ; and the improvement of 
 working the sole-leather grain side out, was now generally adopted, 
 making what is called duff bottoms. About the year 1794, wooden 
 heels began to go out of use, by the introduction of leather spring 
 heels. This improvement progressed gradually, until the heel mak- 
 ing, which was once a good business, was totally ruined." 
 
 As early as 1795, 300,000 pair of these shoes were made in Lynn. 
 The population of the town, at that time, including Saugus, was 
 2291. In 1810, 1,000,000 pair were made, valued at $800,000. In 
 1836, 2,430,929 pair of ladies' shoes were manufactured in Lynn, 
 exclusive of Saugus ; the value of which, including a few of other 
 kinds, amounted to $1,794,833. Lynn is a very flourishing and beau- 
 tiful town, 9 miles N. E. of Boston, 5 miles S. W. of Salem, and in- 
 cludes a valuable mineral spring, and the celebrated peninsula of 
 JVahant. Population, in 1837, 9323. 
 
 The manufacture of shoes and boots of various kinds, is very ex- 
 tensively pursued, particularly in Massachusetts and other northern 
 states. Our own country is principally supplied with this species 
 of manufacture from this source, and large quantities are exported 
 to foreign countries. 
 
 It has been stated that this branch of industry exceeds in amount 
 any other in our country ; not excepting Jhe culture of cotton. We 
 shall soon be able to give some important statistics on this subject. 
 
 VALUE OF SLAVES. 
 
 The sum of money recently paid by the British government for 
 the abolition of slavery in the British colonies, was 20,000,000 
 sterling, or $96,000,000. Commissioners were appointed to ascer- 
 tain the number of slaves in the nineteen colonies, and to appraise 
 their value from the average of all the sales made within the last 
 eight years previous to that time. This was performed with great 
 care. The whole number of slaves, of all ages, sexes, and condi- 
 tions, was found to be 780,993 ; and the aggregate value, 45,281,739, 
 or $217,352,347: average appraised value, $278. The average 
 amount paid was $123; being $155 less than the appraisement. 
 The value of slaves varied, in the different colonies, from $131 to 
 $577 each. The highest appraisal was in Honduras, the lowest in 
 Bermuda. In Jamaica, where the largest number exist, (311,692,) 
 they were appraised at $214 each. 
 
 The number of slaves iu the United States, in 1830, was 2,008,990.
 
 WniSKY VS. BREAD. OLD TIMES. 137 
 
 The increase of slaves in the United States for ten years, from 1820 
 ti i 1 -30, was 36^ per cent. By that ratio, the number of slaves hi 
 the Vnited ^tatt-s, in 1838, was 2,597,223. The value of these- 
 . at the average appraisal of those hi the British colonies, 
 would amount to $558,499,220. At the average price paid by the 
 British government, the value of the slaves in the United States will 
 amount to S'^47,105,/70. 
 
 WHISKY vs. BREAD. 
 
 It is stated on unquestionable authority, that the cities of New 
 York and Brooklyn, and the neighboring towns of Jersey City and 
 \Villiamsburg, containing a population of 300,000, consume, annu- 
 ally, 558,450 barrels of flour, or its equivalent, 2,792,250 bushels of 
 grain. It is also stated that more than 3,000,000 bushels of corn and 
 rye are annually destroyed in those places by distillation, besides a 
 vast quantity used in the manufacture of beer. It therefore follows, 
 that a larger quantity of grain than would feed the whole population, 
 worth at least $3,000,000, is annually converted into an article worse 
 than useless. These are not the only places in the United States 
 where the distillation of grain is carried on to an enormous extent. 
 The number of places licensed to retail ardent spirits, in the city of 
 New York, in 1836, was 2863. It is, however, due to New York to 
 state, that the Eighth Ward Temperance Society in that city is prob- 
 ably the largest in the world, according to its population. The num- 
 ber of members is about 10,000. The population of the ward, hi 
 1835, was 28,570. 
 
 OLD TIMES. 
 
 [Extract from an Historical Sketch of Araherst, N. H., published by the late JOHN 
 FARMER, Esq., of Concord, N. H., Cor. Sec. of the N. H. Hist. Soc.] 
 
 Coming from the old towns of Massachusetts, the first settlers of 
 Amherst, as of many other towns in N. H., brought with them the 
 customs which prevailed at the time of their emigration. They 
 were plain and simple in their dress. In living, they had few or 
 none of the luxuries of life. Their fare was plain and substantial. 
 They used considerable liquid food, such as milk, broths, pea and 
 1> an porridge. Chocolate was sometimes used, and was probably^ 
 esteemed as one of their greatest luxuries. Coffee was unknown to 
 them ; and though tea had been introduced into the country about 
 sixteen years when the town was settled, the first inhabitants had 
 not tasted of it. The first used in the place was sent by some Bos- 
 ton friends to the family of the minister, who were unacquainted 
 witli the method of preparing it, but concluded it must be boiled in 
 an iron kettle, or pot, in a manner similar to their boiling their liquid 
 12*
 
 138 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 food. They therefore put in a quantity of the exotic herb, and, hav- 
 ing boiled it till they supposed "it was done," they dipped it out and 
 sipped of it, but doubtless found it less palatable than their favorite 
 beverage. Tea had become in considerable use before the revolu- 
 tionary war. During this struggle, the drinking of foreign tea Avas 
 deemed a crime, and many adopted the use of what was called lib- 
 erty tea, as a substitute for the Chinese herb. " It was made of four- 
 leaved loosestrife. This plant was pulled up like flax ; its stocks, 
 stripped of their leaves, were boiled, and the leaves were put into an 
 iron kettle, and basted with the liquor of the stocks. After this pro- 
 cess, the leaves were removed into platters, and placed in an oven to 
 dry. A pound of this tea would go as far as one of souchong." 
 Cider, during the first years, was brought from the old towns. It 
 was a common drink. Wine was a great rarity, and ardent spirits 
 were rather regarded for medicinal purposes than as fit for an article 
 of drink. The latter, however, too soon came into use, and so early as 
 1771, the town authorized the purchase of eight barrels of New Eng- 
 land rum, to be used by those who assisted in raising the meeting- 
 house. Sugar, which was known in this country as early as 1631, 
 was used by them, as was also molasses, but only in small quantities. 
 The most common conveyance was by horses fitted out with sad- 
 dles and pillions. Two could ride in this way the same animal, 
 and oftentimes an infant was superadded. A few years before the 
 revolutionary war, it began to be the practice to trot horses. Pre- 
 viously, these animals had paced. The first or second chaise brought 
 into Amherst, was owned by Mr. Benjamin Kendrick, and he rode 
 in it until he was 86 years old. As late as 1810, he journeyed with 
 it to Boston and its neighborhood. It presented such an antique 
 appearance, that it was often called the " old ark." 
 
 LOVE-LETTERS 
 
 BETWEEN THE FIRST GOVERNOR OF MASSACHUSETTS AND HIS WIFE, 
 ABOUT THE YEAR 1628. 
 
 "Mr MOST SWEET HUSBAND, How dearly welcome thy kind 
 letter was to me, I am not able to express. The sweetness of it did 
 much refresh me. What can be more pleasing to a wife, than to 
 hear of the welfare of her best beloved, and how he is pleased with 
 her poor endeavors ! I blush to hear myself commended, knowing 
 my own wants. But it is your love that conceives the best, and 
 makes all things seem better than they are. I wish that I may be 
 :>lu ays pleasing to tliee, and that those comforts we have in each 
 other may be daily increased, as far as they may be pleasing to God. 
 I will use that speech to thee, that Abigail did to David ; ' I will be 
 a servant to wash the feet of my lord.' I will do any service wherein 
 I may please my good husband. I confess I cannot do enough for 
 thee ; but thou art pleased to accept the will for the deed, and rest 
 contented.
 
 LOVE-LETTERS. 139 
 
 "I have many reasons to make me love thee, whereof I will name 
 two: first, because thou lovest God; and secondly, because thou 
 iovest me. If these two were wanting, all the rest would be eclipsed. 
 But I must leave this discourse, and go about my household affairs. 
 I am a bad housewife to be so long from them ; but I must needs 
 borrow a little time to talk with thee, my sweet heart. I hope thy 
 business draws to an end. It will be but two or three weeks before 
 I see thee, though they be long ones. God will bring us together 
 in his good time ; for which tune I shall pray. 
 
 " Farewell, my good husband ; the Lord keep thee. 
 " Your obedient wife, 
 
 " MARGARET WINTHROP." 
 
 "Mr GOOD WIFE, Although I wrote to thee last week, yet, hav- 
 ing so fit opportunity, I must needs write to thee again ; for I do 
 esteem one little, sweet, short letter of thine, (such as the last was,) 
 to be well worthy two or three from me. 
 
 "I began this letter yesterday at two o'clock, thinking to have 
 been large, but was so taken up by company and business, as 1 
 could get but hither by this morning. It grieves me that I have not 
 liberty to make better expression of my love to thee, who art more 
 dear to me than all earthly tilings ; but I will endeavor that my 
 prayers may supply the defect of my pen, which will be of use to us 
 botn, inasmuch as the favor and blessing of God is better than all 
 things besidrs. 
 
 " I know thou lookest for troubles here, and when one affliction 
 is over, to meet with another ; but remember our Saviour tells us, 
 ' Be of good comfort ; I have overcome the world.' Therefore, my 
 sweet wife, raise up thy heart, and be not dismayed at the crosses 
 thou meetest with in family affairs, or otherwise ; but still fly to Him 
 who will take up thy burden for thee. Go thou on cheerfully, in 
 obedience to his holy will, in the course he hath set thee. Peace 
 shall come. I commend thee and all thine to the gracious protec- 
 tion and blessing of the Lord. 
 
 "Farewell, my good wife. I kiss and love thee with the kindest 
 affection, and rest 
 
 Thy faithful husband, 
 
 "JoHN WINTHROP." 
 
 "MosT LOVING AND GOOD HUSBAND, I have received your let- 
 ters. The true tokens of your love and care of my good, now in 
 your absence, as well as when you fvrgj^rfisp nt, mnkp mfi thjpk -**"" 
 saying false, ' Out of sight, out of mind.' I am sure my heart and 
 thoughts are always near you, to 'do you good, and not evil, all the 
 <l;iys of my life.' I rejoice in the expectation of our happy meeting^ 
 fur thy absence has been very long in my conceit, and thy presence 
 much desired. Thy welcome is always ready ; make haste to en- 
 tiTtnin it. 
 
 "And so I bid my good husband farewell, and commit him to the 
 Lord. 
 
 * Your loving and obedient wife, 
 
 "MARGARET WINTHROP."
 
 UEIGNING SOVKUEICNS OF EUROPE. 
 
 REIGNING SOVEREIGNS OF EUROPE. 
 
 141 
 
 Name. 
 
 Title. 
 
 State. 
 
 Dale of Birth. 
 
 Date 
 f 
 ~1c cession. 
 
 \ Age. at dc.[ 
 
 8 
 
 1 
 
 Ch.irlesXIV. 
 
 King 
 
 Sweden and Norway 
 
 Jan. 2u, 1764 
 
 Feb. 5, 1818 
 
 .VI 
 
 Luth'n 
 
 Nicholas I. 
 
 Emperor 
 
 Russia 
 
 July G, 179. 
 
 Dec. 1, 1825 
 
 .".1 
 
 Gr.Ch. 
 
 Frederick VI. 
 
 King 
 
 Denmark 
 
 Jan. 28, 1768 
 
 .Mar. 13, 1808 
 
 in 
 
 Lulh'n 
 
 Victoria 
 
 Uueen 
 
 Great Britain 
 
 .May 24, 1619 
 
 June 20, 1837 
 
 IS 
 
 Pr. Ep. 
 
 William I. 
 
 King 
 
 Holland or Netli'lauds 
 
 Aug. 24, 1772 
 
 Mar. 16, 1815 
 
 1! 
 
 Refer. 
 
 Leopold 
 
 do. 
 
 Belgium 
 
 Dec. 16, 1790 
 
 Inly 21, 1831 
 
 4(1 
 
 Luth'n 
 
 Fre;l. Wm. III. 
 
 do. 
 
 PntMta 
 
 Aug. 3, 1770 
 
 Nov. 16, 1797 
 
 >-, 
 
 Evan. 
 
 I'n-dcrick 
 
 do. 
 
 Saxony 
 
 .May 18, 1797 
 
 June 6, 1836 
 
 38 
 
 Cath. 
 
 Ern. Augustus 
 
 do. 
 
 Hanover 
 
 June 5, 1771 
 
 July 20, 1837 
 
 66 
 
 Prot. 
 
 Paul Frederick 
 
 Gr. Duke 
 
 Methlenburg-Schwer. 
 
 Sept. 15, 1800 
 
 Feb. 1, 1837 
 
 07 
 
 Luth'n 
 
 George V. 
 
 do. 
 
 Meclileuburg-Strelitz 
 
 Aug. 12, 1779 
 
 Nov. 6, 1816 
 
 1; 
 
 do. 
 
 Augustus 
 
 do. 
 
 Oldenburg 
 
 July 13, 1783 
 
 May 21, 1829 
 
 41. 
 
 do. 
 
 William 
 
 Duke 
 
 Brunswick 
 
 April 25, 180e 
 
 April 25, 1831 
 
 25 
 
 do. 
 
 William 
 
 do. 
 
 Nassau 
 
 June 14, 1792 
 
 Jan. 9, 1816 
 
 23 
 
 Evan. 
 
 Ch. Frederick 
 
 Gr. Duke 
 
 Saxo-Weimar-Eisen 
 
 Feb. 2, 1783 
 
 June 14, 1828 
 
 45 
 
 Luth'n 
 
 Ernest 
 
 Duke 
 
 Saxe-Coburg-Gotha 
 
 Jan. 2, 1781 
 
 Dec. 9, 1806 
 
 22 
 
 do. 
 
 Bernard 
 
 do. 
 
 S.ixe-Meiniiigen-Hild. 
 
 Dec. 17, 1800 
 
 Dec. 24, 1803 
 
 3 
 
 do. 
 
 Joseph 
 
 do. 
 
 Saxe-Altenburg 
 
 Aug. 27, 1789 
 
 Sept. 29, 1834 
 
 i:> 
 
 do. 
 
 Leopold 
 
 do. 
 
 Anhalt-Dessau 
 
 Oct. 1, 1794 
 
 Aug. 9, 1817 
 
 22 
 
 Evan. 
 
 Alexis 
 
 do. 
 
 . \nhalt-Bernburg 
 
 June 12, 1767 
 
 April 9, 179(1 
 
 28 
 
 do. 
 
 Henry 
 
 do. 
 
 Anhalt-Cothen 
 
 July 30, 1776 
 
 Aug. 23, 1830 
 
 52 
 
 Refor. 
 
 Fred. Gunther 
 
 Prin ce 
 
 Schwartz'g Rudolst't 
 
 Nov. 6, 1793 
 
 April 28, 1807 
 
 13 
 
 Luth'n 
 
 Guntlier II. 
 
 do. 
 
 Scliwaru'g Sondei'n 
 
 Sept. 24, 1801 
 
 April 23, 1837 
 
 3ti 
 
 do. 
 
 H.-nrv XIX. 
 
 do. 
 
 Re u S3, Elder Line 
 
 March 1, 1790 
 
 Jan. 29, 1817 
 
 26 
 
 do. 
 
 Henry LX1I. 
 
 do. 
 
 Iteusd, Younger Line 
 
 May 31, 1785 
 
 April 17, 1818 
 
 32 
 
 do. 
 
 Leopold 
 
 do. 
 
 Lippe-Detmold 
 
 Xov. 6, 1790 
 
 April 4, 1802 
 
 
 
 Refor 
 
 George William 
 
 do. 
 
 Lippe-Schauenburg 
 
 Dec. 20, 1784 
 
 Feb. 13, 1787 
 
 a 
 
 do. 
 
 George 
 
 do. 
 
 Waldeck 
 
 Sept. 20, 1789 
 
 Sept. 9, 1813 
 
 n 
 
 Evan. 
 
 Philip Augustus 
 
 Landgr've 
 
 Hesse-Homburg 
 
 Mar. 11, 17?!.. 
 
 Jan. 19, 1839 
 
 60 
 
 Refor. 
 
 Ch. Leopold Fr. 
 
 Gr. Duke 
 
 Baden 
 
 Aug. 29, 1790 
 
 Mar. 30, 1830 
 
 Id 
 
 Evan. 
 
 William 11. 
 
 Elector 
 
 Hesse-Cassel 
 
 July 28, 1777 
 
 Feb. 27, lt?2J 
 
 1! 
 
 Refor. 
 
 Louia II. 
 
 Gr. Duke 
 
 Hesse-Darmstadt 
 
 Dec. 26, 1777 
 
 April 6, 1830 
 
 52 
 
 Luth'n 
 
 Charles 
 
 Prince 
 
 Hoherizol'n ,Simar'n 
 
 Feb. 20, 1785 
 
 Oct. 17, 1831 
 
 2:t 
 
 Cath. 
 
 Frederick Win. 
 John Joseph 
 
 do. 
 do. 
 
 llohenzol'n Hechin'n 
 Lichtenstein 
 
 Sept. 16, 1801 
 June 2b', 1760 
 
 Sept. 12, 1838 
 Mar. 24, 1805 
 
 i7 
 
 li 
 
 do. 
 do. 
 
 William 
 
 King 
 
 Wurtemberg 
 
 Sept. 27, 1781 
 
 Oct. 30, 1816 
 
 IS 
 
 Lulh'n 
 
 I .Dili* 
 
 do 
 
 Bavaria 
 
 Aug. 95 
 
 Oct. 13, 1825 
 
 39 
 
 Cath. 
 
 Ferdinand 
 
 Emperor 
 
 Austria 
 
 April 19, 1793 
 
 Mar. 2, 1835 
 
 U 
 
 do. 
 
 Limis Philip 
 
 King 
 
 France 
 
 Oct. 6, 1773 
 
 Aug. 9, 1830 
 
 .->? 
 
 do. 
 
 Isabella II. 
 
 Queen 
 
 Spain 
 
 Oct. 10, 1830 
 
 Sept. 29, 1833 
 
 :i 
 
 do. 
 
 Maria II. 
 
 do. 
 
 Portugal 
 
 April 4, 1819 
 
 Mav 2, 1826 
 
 7 
 
 do. 
 
 Charles Albert 
 
 King 
 
 Sard ina 
 
 Oct. 2, 171k- 
 
 April 27, 1831 
 
 31 
 
 do. 
 
 I.n>|ild II. 
 
 Gr. Duke 
 
 Tuscany 
 
 Oct. 3, 1797 
 
 June 18, 1824 
 
 B6 
 
 do. 
 
 Maria Louisa 
 
 Duchess 
 
 Parma 
 
 Dec. 12, 1791 
 
 May 30, 1814 
 
 22 
 
 do. 
 
 Francis I V . 
 
 Duke 
 
 .Minima and Massa 
 
 Oct. (1, 1779 
 
 June 8, 1815 
 
 ;o 
 
 do. 
 
 Charles Louis 
 
 do. 
 
 Lucca 
 
 Dec. 23, 1799 
 
 Mar. 13, 18-24 
 
 21 
 
 do. 
 
 Gregory XVI. 
 
 Pope 
 
 States of the Church 
 
 Sept. 18, 1765 
 
 Feb. 2, 1831 
 
 OS 
 
 do 
 
 Ferdinand II. 
 
 King 
 
 Two Sicilies 
 
 Jan. 12, 1815 
 
 Nov. 8, 1830 
 
 >! 
 
 do. 
 
 Otho, 
 
 do 
 
 Greece 
 
 Juno 1, 1815 
 
 Jan. 25, 1833 
 
 18 
 
 do. 
 
 Abdul -Medjid 
 
 Sultan 
 
 Turkey 
 
 April 20, 1823 
 
 July 1, 1839 
 
 It 
 
 Maho. 
 
 KINGLY FORTUNE. 
 
 The private fortune of the king of the French is said to he the largest in the 
 world. While he was duke of Orleans, he was the principal manager of all his 
 affairs, sold the produce of his land, and let his own farms. The civil list allowed 
 him by the state is so large (hat he lias been able l<> save money from it, without 
 encroaching upon his private fortune. That now amounts to about a hundred mil- 
 lions of dollars. His contributions to public works (especially tin- .splendid tilting- 
 up of Versailles as a national monument) are considerable. His wealth is con- 
 stantly accumulatinsr, ami his fmuj|are invested in different countries.
 
 142 
 
 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 A CHRONOLOGICAL SKETCH OF GREAT BRITAIN. 
 
 As a large portion of our readers are descendants from the people 
 of Great Britain, speak the same language, and are generally more 
 acquainted with British laws, institutions, and customs, than with 
 those of any other nation, we think that a chronological account of 
 all the kings and queens who have honored or disgraced the British 
 throne from the earliest dates to the present time, with data of some 
 of the most important events which occurred in the several reigns, 
 may prove useful, and serve for the purposes of reference. 
 
 The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland embraces Eng- 
 land, Wales, and Scotland, on the island of GREAT BRITAIN ; and the 
 island of Ireland; with a number of small islands on their coasts. 
 These countries were formerly under separate governments ; but 
 are now united, under one sovereign. 
 
 LONDON is the capital of Great Britain, and lies in north latitude 
 51 31', and five minutes or miles west longitude from Greenwich, 
 or 76 5(X 30" east longitude from the city of Washington. The 
 population of London, in 1831, was 1,474,069. The British domin- 
 ions are so extensive and populous, that the lovely woman who now 
 graces the British throne may say with truth, that more than one 
 hundred and fifty millions of people bow to her sceptre, and that the 
 sun never sets on her possessions. 
 
 The following is the area and population of Great Britain and its 
 possessions : 
 
 Great Britain and Ireland, 
 
 Gibraltar, Malta, and Gozo,.... 
 British India and Dependencies,. 
 
 Ceylon and Mauritius, 
 
 Cape Colony, 
 
 Sierra Leone, St. Helena, &c.,. 
 
 West Indies and Guiana, 
 
 North American Provinces,. .... 
 Australian Colonies, 
 
 Population. 
 
 Sq. MUe>. 
 
 Population 
 Sq. Mile. 
 
 24,306,719 
 
 118,209 
 
 205.6 
 
 140,122 
 
 164 
 
 854.4 
 
 123,300,000 
 
 1,180,000 
 
 104.5 
 
 1,050,000 
 
 25,340 
 
 41.4 
 
 150,000 
 
 200,000 
 
 0.7 
 
 44,450 
 
 . 
 
 - 
 
 903,640 
 
 115,000 
 
 7.8 
 
 1,350,876 
 129 600 
 
 ' 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 151,375,407 
 
 We shall, at this time, treat only of 
 
 ENGLAND. 
 
 The island of Great Britain was unknown to the Romans until 
 the time of Caius Julius Csesar, who was born 100 years before the 
 Christian era. Csesar visited the island, and found it inhabited by 
 barbarians, whom he defeated ; but it was not until the time of Ti- 
 berius Claudius, who was born nine years before Christ, that Britain, 
 or Albion, became a province of the Roman empire. This emperor 
 died A. D. 54, and is that Tiberius (Ceesar) spoken of in the New 
 Testament 
 
 This island was long before known to the Phrenicians and some
 
 A CHRONOLOGICAL SKETCH OF GREAT BRITAIN. 143 
 
 other nations, who visited it to obtain tin ; on which account it was 
 called Tin Island. It is supposed that it formerly joined the conti- 
 nent : the narrowness of the English Channel, between Dover and/ 
 Calais, (24 miles,) and the chalky hills on each side, seem to warrant 
 the supposition. 
 
 Britain remained a Roman province until A. D. 426, when the 
 Romans, being pressed by their enemies at home, withdrew their 
 forces, and left these islanders to their fate. 
 
 The Britons were attacked by the Picts and Scots, and being un- 
 skilled in war, sought aid from their Saxon neighbors on the conti- 
 nent, in the year 449. The Saxons came ; and, after expelling the 
 enemy, under their leaders, Hengist and Horsa, they recruited their 
 ranks from the Angles, an ancient German nation, and made them- 
 selves masters of the country. The Britons defended themselves 
 against their treacherous invaders with great bravery, particularly 
 under the celebrated King ARTHUR, but were compelled, in 685, to 
 confine themselves to Wales, or to retire to Brittany, in France. 
 
 The Anglo-Saxons divided Britain into seven states, which were 
 governed by kings, until 827, when EGBERT, king of Wessex, sub- 
 dued the other states, and became sole monarch, under the title of 
 king of England. EGBERT died in 838. 
 
 The Christian religion was introduced into England by St. Au- 
 gustin, with 40 monks, sent by Pope Gregory, in 598. 
 
 The successors of EGBERT were much annoyed by the Danes or 
 Normans, who landed in England in 832, and conquered a part of 
 the country until 872, when ALFRED THE GREAT arose, roused 
 the courage of his countrymen, and expelled the Danes from his 
 kingdom. This great and good man was born in 849, and died in 900. 
 He was a statesman, warrior, scholar, and Christian. He made Lon- 
 don the capital city, and founded the University of Oxford. 
 
 The Danes again attacked England, and, in 1001, conquered it. 
 Their king, Canute, who died in 1036, and his sons, governed it, 
 until they were finally driven from England in 1041, when EDWARD, 
 the last of the Anglo-Saxon kings, ascended the throne. He married 
 Editha, daughter of Godwin, earl of Kent ; but in consequence of 
 his hatred to his father-in-law, and his own monkish superstition, 
 the marriage was never consummated. 
 
 Edward was a weak prince, and exceedingly indolent. " One day, 
 while he reposed upon a couch, a page, who little dreamed that the 
 king was in the apartment, filled his pockets with silver from an 
 iron chest which hapj>ened to be open ; but not satisfied with his 
 booty, he bad recourse to it again, when the king said, very delib- 
 erately, " Boy, you had better be satisfied with what you have got, 
 for if my chamberlain comes in, you will lose the whole, and be 
 whipped into the bargain." 
 
 Edward died in 1065, and was the first English monarch who 
 touched for the king's evil. From his ignorant countrymen lie ob- 
 tained the title of" Confessor, and was canonized for his sanctity, by 
 Pope Alexander I II., 200 years after his death.
 
 144 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR, (1066 1087,) 
 
 duke of Normandy, a natural son of Robert, duke of Normandy, and 
 cousin of Edward the Confessor. Having some claim to- the English 
 throne, William landed in England with 60,000 men, fought the 
 battle of Hastings, October 14, 1066, in which his rival to the crown, 
 Harold, was slain, and made himself master of the whole country. 
 This period is termed the CONQUEST. William owing allegiance to 
 France, as duke of Normandy, and France becoming jealous of his 
 power, were the causes of the first on the long catalogue of those 
 bloody wars, which have existed between the two nations. From 
 this period to 1815, England and France have been at war 24 times ; 
 the aggregate duration of which is 267 years! William favored his 
 own countrymen, and built the Tower of London for their protection, 
 in 1080. In his reign severity and wisdom were both conspicuous. 
 He married Matilda, daughter of the earl of Flanders, by whom he 
 had four sons and six daughters. William was tall, well built, and 
 so great was his strength, that hardly a man in England could bend 
 his bow. 
 
 WILLIAM II., (10871100,) 
 
 the second son of William the Conqueror, surnamed Rufus from his 
 red hair. He was born in 1060. This prince was rapacious, lavish, 
 and dissolute; void of learning, a scoffer at religion, and a foe to 
 wedlock. He was accidentally wounded by an arrow, and died un- 
 lamented. William built Westminster Hall, and, after it was finished, 
 said it was not Large enough for a king's bed-chamber. This hall is 
 270 feet in length, 74 in breadth, and 90 feet in height. During 
 this reign, in the year 1096, the first crusade was undertaken by the 
 influence of Peter the Hermit on Pope Urban II., to recover the 
 Holy Land, or Palestine, from Mahometan and Saraceeu unbelievers. 
 "The people of Europe were grieved that the Holy Land, where the 
 Saviour lived, and taught, and suffered for mankind, should be pol- 
 luted by infidels, or remain in their possession, and thus prevent 
 the pilgrimages then desired to be made to the city of Jerusalem 
 and the sepulchre of the divine Redeemer." In these crusades, all 
 classes of Christians, of all nations, from the most powerful prince 
 to the humblest subject, took an interest. The joys of paradise were 
 promised to all who fell in this holy cause. " They thought to atone 
 for their sins by visiting the place where the Saviour had suffered, 
 rather than by Imitating his example and copying his virtues, and 
 to display their zeal in his cause, by destroying rather than saving 
 their fellow-men." These crusades, or holy wars, proved unsuc- 
 n ssful bv tin- issue of that commenced by St. Lewis, king of France, 
 in 1270. 
 
 Although vast sums and many lives were sacrificed in these chiv- 
 alric enterprises, they proved beneficial to the Christian nations, 
 inasmuch as thereby commerce with the East was introduced, and a 
 knowledge of many arts and sciences acquired, till then unknown 
 in Europe.
 
 A CHRONOLOGICAL SKETCH OF GREAT BRITAIN. 145 
 
 HENRY I., (11001135,) 
 
 the youngest son of William the Conqueror, was born 1068. He 
 married Matilda, daughter of Malcolm III., king of Scotland. His 
 second wife was Adelaide, daughter of the earl of Lovain. He left a 
 daughter, Matilda, who married Geoffrey, surnamed Plantagenet, 
 count of Anjou. Henry was affable to his friends, and implacable to 
 his enemies ; cool, courageous, ambitions, and avaricious. He ac- 
 quirea the surname of Beauclerc by his learning, and died the richest 
 prince in Europe. The order of Knights Templars was instituted in 
 1118, to defend the sepulchre at Jerusalem, and to protect Christian 
 strangers. 
 
 STEPHEN, (1135 1154,) 
 
 count of Blois, son of Adda, daughter of William the Conqueror, 
 was born in 1104. He married Matilda, daughter of the earl of 
 Boulogne. Their only child, Eustace, died in 1153. Stephen was 
 a brave and sensible man, and made a spirited resistance against 
 the Church of Rome. He acquired the crown from the daughter of 
 ll'-nry L by dishonorable means, and lived in a state of continued 
 tumult and revolution. Stephen was the last prince of the Norman 
 family. 
 
 HENRY H., (11541189,) 
 
 son of Matilda, the countess of Anjou, daughter of Henry I. He was 
 born in 1131, and surnamed Plantagenet, and was the first of tlmt 
 family in England. He possessed, by inheritance, and by his mar- 
 riage with Eleanora, heiress of the house of Poictiers, a large portion 
 if France. He was distinguished for his warlike enterprises, and 
 became one of the most powerful kings of England. He conquered 
 Ireland in 1172, which has been subject to the British crown to this 
 day. He had five sons and two daughters. King Henry's daughter 
 Matilda married Henry, duke of Saxony ; from which marriage de- 
 scended the present queen of England. Henry was a handsome 
 man, fond of pleasure, and remarkably charitable to the poor. 
 Glass windows were first used in England in 1180. 
 
 RICHARD I. (11891199) 
 
 was the son of Henry II., and born in 1156. He was surnamed 
 Cccur de, Lion, or the Lion-hearted, on account of the great courage 
 he displayed in a crusade against the Saracens, in which he de- 
 feated Saladin's army of 300,000 combatants, in 1191. He married 
 the princess Berenguettcfof Navarre, but left no issue. He died by 
 the wound of an arrow from an archer, whose father and brother 
 Richard had slain. Richard had many vices ; but he was so be- 
 Im-r.l I iy his subjects, that they melted the church plate to rai-c 
 150,000 marks, (100,000,) to redeem him from captivity, wli.-n im- 
 prisoned by the duke of Austria, on his way from the'Holy Land. 
 This was a large sum in those days, when the price of labor did not 
 exceed twopence a day. 
 13
 
 146 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 JOHN (11991216) 
 
 was the son of Henry II., and born in 1166. This prince was weak, 
 passionate, and tyrannical ; hated at home, and despised abroad. 
 He died amidst civil broils. John married Isabella of Angoulemc, 
 alter being divorced from the heiress of Gloucester. By Isabella 
 he had two sons and three daughters. Magna Charta (or the Great 
 Charter of Liberties) was signed by the king and barons, and courts 
 of common pleas established, in 1215. Surnames were first used in 
 England in 1200. 
 
 HENRY III., (12161272,) 
 
 son of King John, was born in 1207. He was surnamed Winchester, 
 and married Eleanor of Provence, by whom he had nine children. 
 Henry was a man of mean talents, capricious and cowardly ; al- 
 ways under foreign influence, particularly that of the Roman See. 
 Camb idg College was founded in the year 1229. The first house 
 of commons was convened in 1265. All the buildings in England 
 at this period were thatched with straw. Chimneys were unknown. 
 
 EDWARD I., (12721307,) 
 
 son of Henry III., was born in 1239. This prince conquered Wales 
 in 1283, and made his eldest son, Edivard, the first prince of that 
 principality. He made several attempts to subdue Scotland. His 
 execution of the brave and noble Wallace, in 1303, will ever remain 
 a blot on his character. Edward was distinguished for his bravery 
 ;nid wisdom, and made a good king to England. "His enterprises 
 were directed to permanent advantages, rather than to mere per- 
 sonal ambition and temporary splendor." During his reign, the laws 
 and administration of justice were so greatly improved and perfected, 
 that he has been called the English Justinian. At his death he or- 
 deivd his heart to be sent to the Holy Land, and bequeathed 
 32,000 for the maintenance of the holy sepulchre. Edward was a 
 1 triii ce of comely features and fine black eyes ; but in consequence 
 of ihe extraordinary length of his legs, he was called Longshanks. 
 He married Eleanor of Carlisle, by whom he left a son and two 
 daughters. His second wife was Margaret, sister of Philip of France, 
 by whom he left two sons. 
 
 A regular succession of parliaments commenced in 1294, without 
 whose consent no taxes were to be laid on the people. The price, 
 of a well-written Bible was 27. Wine, and tallow candles, were 
 great luxuries. 
 
 EDWARD II., (13071327,) 
 
 son of Edward I. lie was the first prince of Wales, and born in 
 1284. This was a sensible and good-natured prince, but indolent 
 and fond of pleasure. He resigned the crown January 20, 1327, by 
 the conspiracy of his wife, Isabella of France, daughter of Philip 
 the Fair, who had dishonored him. He was basely murdered in 
 prison, Sept. 21, the same year. He had two sons and two daugh- 
 ters. In this reign there was a. terrible earthquake, and a famine 
 that lasted three years. The battle of Bannockburn was fought,
 
 A CHRONOLOGICAL SKETCH OF GREAT BRITAIN. 147 
 
 1314, in which Edward was defeated, and Bruce established on the 
 throue of Scotland. 
 
 EDWARD III. (13271377.) 
 
 Tliis prince was born in 1313, and took the crown, by the consent 
 of his father, Edward II. He imprisoned his mother for causing the 
 death of his father; and executed Mortimer, his mother's paramour, 
 on the -.'allows. The king of France dying without male issue, Ed- 
 ward demanded the crown of France by virtue of his mother, sister 
 of King Charles. Edward obtained large possessions in France, 
 and acquired the title of king of France, which his successors re- 
 tained until 1801. Although the title remained, most of his posses- 
 sions in France were lost before his death. Edward was a brave 
 ami wise, prince, of a commanding person, and the idol of the sol- 
 diery. He married Philippa of Hainault, countess of March, by 
 whom he had seven sons and five daughters. Edward, Prince, of 
 Wales, the eldest son of Edward III., was greatly renowned in war. 
 This prince was bora in 1330, and died in 1376. At the age of 1(1, 
 at the battle of Crecy, in 134t5, at which cannon were first used by 
 the English, he received the order of knighthood, which " showed 
 that he merited his spurs." He fought and won the celebrated Iwit- 
 tle of Poictiers, in 1356, in which the king of France was taken 
 prisoner. Edward married Joanna, daughter of Edmund, earl of 
 Kent, and left one son. He wore a black armor, and was called 
 the Black Prince. In this reign the art of weaving was introduced 
 into England, and coals were first brought to London. The order 
 of the Garter was instituted in 1349. John Wickliffe began to call 
 in question the doctrines of the Roman Church in 13^2. 
 
 " The fashionable ladies, in this reign, wore party-colored tunics, 
 one half being of one color, the other half of another. Their tippets 
 were very short ; their caps remarkably small, and wrapped about 
 their heads with cords. Their girdles and ponchos were orna- 
 mented with gold and silver, and they carried short swords by their 
 sides. Their head-dresses were enormously high, rising three feet 
 nbove the head, in the shape of sugar-loaves, with streamers of silk 
 flowing from the top of them to the ground. The gentlemen wore 
 long pointed shoes, fastened to their knees by gold or silver chains ; 
 h"-e of one color on one leg, and of another color on the other; 
 short breeches, which did not reach to the middle of their thLlis; 
 coats one half white, and the other half black or blue; long teards ; 
 a hood buttoned under their chins, embroidered with protest | no 
 figures of men and animals ; and sometimes ornamented with gold, 
 silver, and precious stones." 
 
 RICHARD II., (13771399,) 
 
 son of the Black Prince, and grandson of Edward III. He was 
 born in 13!<;. This young king was fond of low company, and was 
 governed, in a great degree, by his dissolute associates. 11 ; s reign 
 was full of commotion. He married Anne, daughter of I!M empe- 
 ror Charles IV., and afterwards Inabelln, daughter of C'li; rl s \ I. 
 of France. He left no issue. IJirlmnl \\a< deposed Sept. 30, 1399 
 and died in prison, either by starvation or poison.
 
 148 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 HENRY IV., (13991413,) 
 
 surnamed Bolingbroke, ascended the throne upon the deposition of 
 Richard II. He was the son of John of Gaunt, duke of Lancas- 
 ter, third son of Edward HI., and was born in 1367. Henry was 
 the first king of the house of Lancaster. He was of middle stat- 
 ure, well proportioned, and perfect in all the exercises of arms 
 and chivalry. He married Mary de Bohon, by whom he had four 
 sons and two daughters. His second wife was Joan of Navarre. 
 In 1401, by the intrigues of the clergy, an act passed for burning 
 heretics, or the followers of Wickliffe. Henry was cruel from poli- 
 cy, and superstitious without virtue. Geoffrey, Chaucer, and John 
 Gower, rendered themselves famous by their writings. The order 
 of the Bath was instituted at Henry's coronation. 
 
 HENRY V., (14131422,) 
 
 son of Henry IV., was born 1388. This king was of a gallant spirit, 
 but no statesman. He fixed a stain on his character by his severe 
 execution of the laws against the Widdiffeites, or Lollards. He 
 landed in France, in 1415, and fought the famous battle of Agin- 
 court the following year. Henry married Catharine of France, 
 carried his conquests to Paris, and was declared successor to the 
 crown of France. These conquests proved disastrous to both na- 
 tions. He left one son. Henry was tall and graceful, chaste, mod- 
 est, and devout 
 
 HENRY VI., (14221461,) 
 
 son of Henry V. He was born in England in 1421, and crowned 
 at Paris, in 1430. He married the celebrated Margaret of Anjou, 
 in 1445, and had one son. Henry was honest and pious, but too 
 weak to act for himself. All his possessions in France, except Ca- 
 lais, were given up. The rival house of York took advantage of 
 Henry's imbecility, and after several severe battles, confined him to 
 the Tower, where it is supposed he was murdered by Richard, duke 
 of Gloucester. Eton College was founded in 1440, and King's 
 College, at Cambridge, was built in 1441. 
 
 EDWARD IV., (14611483,) 
 
 duke of York, was born in 1441. Edward's father, Richard duke 
 of York, was grandson of Edward, earl of Cambridge, duke of 
 York, and fourth son of. Edward III. The Lancastrian branch 
 dr.- '-ended from John of Gaunt, the third son of Edward III. The 
 York line having intermarried with the female descendants of Li- 
 onel, duke of Clarence, the second son of Edward IIL, gave the house 
 of York the best right to the crown. Margaret, widow of Henry VI., 
 aided by France, contested the title with Edward ; but it was decided 
 in his favor by the battle of Hexham, 1464, and again by the battle 
 of Barnet, in 1471. Edward married Elizabeth Woodville, widow of 
 Hr John Grey, a Lancastrian, and left two sons and five daugh- 
 ters. Edward was abrave man, of some talents and fine person, but 
 deficient in judgment, and exceedingly cruel. He had many mistress-
 
 A CHRONOLOGICAL SKETCH OP GREAT BRITAIN. 149 
 
 es, of which number was the celebrated Jane Shore. The art of 
 printing was brought to England by Caxton, in 1471. This art 
 was known in China as early as 950- 
 
 EDWARD V., (1483,) 
 
 eldest son of Edward IV., prince of Wales, aged 13, was murder- 
 ed, with his younger brother, in the Tower of London, by his uncle 
 the duke of Gloucester. He reigned two months and twelve days. 
 
 RICHARD III., (14831485,) 
 
 duke of Gloucester, son of Richard, duke of York, born in 1450. 
 On the death of his brother, Edward IV., Richard was appoint- 
 ed protector of the kingdom during the minority of Edward 
 V. lie obtained the crown by dissimulation and treachery, fol- 
 lowed by a series of most bloody murders. He murdered Ed- 
 ward, prince of Wales, son of Henry VI., and married his 
 wido\v, -?.ne. He murdered Edward V., and his brother, the duke 
 of York. He then murdered his wife, and courted Elizabeth, 
 daughter of his brother, Edward IV., but without success. Richard 
 was a brave man, but destitute of every personal or mental 
 grace. He died at the battle of Bosworth, August 22, 1485, cov- 
 ered with infamy. Richard left no child, and was the last of the 
 Plantagenets. 
 
 HENRY VII., (14851509,) 
 
 son of Edmoud earl of Richmond, son of Owen Tudor and Catha- 
 rine of France, widow of Henry V. He was born in 1457. By the 
 marriage of Henry with Elizabeth of the house of York, daughter 
 of Edward IV., the houses of York and Lancaster were united 
 under the first monarch of the house of Tudor. The struggles be- 
 tween those rival families lasted many years, in which much blood 
 was spilt. They were called the wars of the roses, each party 
 being designated by white or red roses. Henry was pacific in lii-i 
 negotiations with foreign nations, and gained their respect. He 
 was attached to the Lancastrian party, proved an ungracious hus- 
 band, and frequently used religion as a cloak for oppression. He 
 left one son, and a daughter, Margaret, who married Jarnes IV., 
 king of Scotland. About the commencement of this reign, a disease 
 called the " sweating sickness" carried off a great number of pro- 
 pie. In the year 1500, 30,000 persons died of the plague in Lon- 
 don. North America was discovered by Cabot, in 14! H), 7 
 after the discovery of America by Columbus. The culture of vege- 
 tables was first commenced in England, in 1509 ; previously th' y 
 were imported from the Netherlands. 
 
 HENRY VIII., (15091547,) 
 
 son of Henry VII., born in 1491. The chief characteristic of tins 
 prince was love of power. " This passion, which \v;is at first com- 
 patible with generosity and feeling, at length produced an e\ 
 of pride, impatience, and intolerance, which extinguished the senti- 
 ments of humanity, and rendered him violent and sanguinary in the
 
 Ji>0 THi; FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 extreme." Henry's reigii is distinguished for the introduction of the 
 Protestant religion, and for the suppression of Catholic religious 
 houses. These transactions were rather permitted hy Henry, than 
 approved hy him. Before his quarrel with the pope, about a divorce 
 from his wife, he wrote a hook against the tenets of Luther, the 
 Ihtlier of the reformation ; for which Leo X., in 1520, gave him the 
 tide of Defender of the Faith, which his successors, though Protest- 
 ants, have ever retained. Henry possessed talents and a handsome 
 person. He married Catharine of Arragon, widow of his brother 
 Arthur, in 1509, by whom he had one daughter. Displeased with his 
 amiable wife, and in love with her lady of honor, Henry applied to 
 the pope for a divorce, which being refused, he threw oft' all al- 
 legiance to the Roman See, declared himself head of the church, 
 and married Anne, Boleyn, daughter of Sir Thomas Boleyn, in 1539. 
 Excited by jealousy towards Anne, and love for another lady, Henry 
 caused Anne to be beheaded in 1536. Anne left one child, the cel- 
 ebrated Elizabeth. The day after the execution of Anne, Henry 
 married his third wife, Jane Seymour, daughter of Sir John Sey- 
 mour. Jane died in giving birth to Prince Edward, in 1537. In 
 1540, Henry married his fourth wife, Jlnne of Cleves, sister of the duke 
 of Cleves. This lady he called a Flanders mare, and after living 
 with her about six months, he sent her back to her own country. 
 Catharine Howard, niece of the duke of Norfolk, was Henry's fifth 
 wife. She proved incontinent, and was beheaded in 1542. Henry 
 was married to his sixth and last wife, Catharine Parr, widow of 
 Lord Latimer, in 1543. This lady possessed great merit, and was a 
 firm friend to the reformation. Anne Boleyn and Catharine Howard 
 were women of extraordinary beauty. 
 
 We mention the following historical fact concerning the decapi- 
 tation of the unfortunate Anne, to show the irresistible power of 
 woman's eye : 
 
 " Anne Boleyn, being on the scaffold, would not consent to have 
 her eyes covered with a bandage, saying, that she had no fear of 
 death. All that the divine who assisted at her execution could ob- 
 tain from her was, that she would shut her eyes. But, as she 
 was opening them at every moment, the executioner, a Frenchman, 
 who is said to have had uncommon skill in his profession, could not 
 bear their tender and mild glances: fearful of missing his aim, he 
 was obliged to invent an expedient to behead the queen. He drew 
 off his shoes, and approached her silently : while he was at her left 
 hand, another person advanced at her right, who made a great noise 
 in walking; so that, this circumstance drawing the attention of Anne, 
 she turned her face from the executioner, who was enabled by this 
 artifice to strike the fatal blow, without being disarmed by the spirit 
 of affecting resignation which shone in the eyes of the lovely Anne." 
 
 The noted battle of Flodden was fought in 1513, in which Henry's 
 troops gained a decided victory over the Scots, and in which King 
 James IV. of Scotland fell. The number of Catholic monasteries 
 suppressed in this reign, was 643; together with 90 colleges, 2374 
 chantries, 3 chapels, and 110 hospitals. The frauds imposed on the 
 deluded people in regard to relics and images!, and the scenes of
 
 A CHRONOLOGICAL SKETCH OF GREAT BRITAIN. 15J. 
 
 debauchery and impiety disclosed, were so great, as almost to shock 
 the Defender of the Faith himself. Thomas Wolsey, prime minis- 
 ter to Henry, was made archbishop of York, in 1514, and soon after 
 was created a cardinal by Leo X. Wolsey was arrested for high 
 treason in 1530, and died on his way to prison. Ireland was erect- 
 ed into a kingdom in 1542, from which time English kings were 
 snled kings of Ireland. "In this reign the reading of the Bible 
 was prohibited, except by those who occupied high offices in the 
 state. A noble lady or gentlewoman might read it in their garden 
 or orchard, or other retired places ; but men and women in the 
 lower ranks were positively forbidden to read it, or have it read 
 to them." Ladies began to use pins instead of skewers, in 1543. 
 
 EDWARD VI., (15471553,) 
 
 son of Henry VIIL, by Jane Seymour, was born in 1538. This 
 prince died so young, that his administration may be deemed that 
 of his counsellors, Somerset, the protector; and afterwards Dudley, 
 duke of Northumberland. Edward received instruction from the 
 celebrated John Chcke, who died in 1557, aged 43. This prince was 
 very learned for one of his years, and much admired for his beauty : 
 IK: was of a mild temper, and greatly attached to the reformation. 
 He kept a journal of all the transactions of his reign, and which is 
 preserved in the British Museum. 
 
 MARY, (15531558,) 
 
 daughter of Henry VIIL, by Catharine of Arragon ; born 1515, and 
 died I55H, \\itliout issue. Mary, from motives of policy, married 
 Philip II. of Spain, in 1554. She involved the nation in war, and 
 lost Calais, the last English possession in France. She restored the 
 authority of the pope in all its rigor. During the short reign of this 
 fiendish woman, she caused more than 300 persons to be beheaded, 
 burnt, or otherwise murdered, for lack of faith in Catholic dog- 
 mas; among that number was her unfortunate cousin, the amiable 
 and accomplished Lady Jane Grey. Mary, deserted by her hus- 
 band, and detested by the people, died as she had lived, "unhon- 
 ored and unsung." 
 
 ELIZABETH, (1558 1603,) 
 
 daughter of Henry VIIL by Anne Boleyn. She was born in 1533, 
 and was the last of the line of the house of Tudor. The nation 
 was filled with joy when " good Queen Bess," as she was afterwards 
 called, came to the throne. Elizabeth was one of the most cele- 
 brated sovereigns in Europe. She appears to have had that wi.s- 
 dom and those virtues so necessary in a sovereign to render a nation 
 great and happy. " Under her auspices," says a good writer, " the 
 Protestant religion, as opposed to Popery, was firmly established. 
 Factions were restrained, government strengthened, the vast po\\. r 
 of Spain nobly opposed, oppressed neighbors supported, a navy 
 created, commerce and manufactures rendered flourishing, and the 
 national diameter aggrandized." One of the most important events 
 in this reign was the destruction of the Invincible .Irwutfa, fitted out
 
 152 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 in 1588, by the king of Spain, and encouraged by Pope Sixtns V., for 
 the conquest of England. The Armada consisted of 160 ships of 
 war, well manned and provisioned. Elizabeth had 140 vessels, of 
 various sizes, and large armies along the sea-coast, with 34,000 foot, 
 and 2,000 horse, to guard her person. Her speech to her troops on 
 that occasion would have honored a Marlborough or a Wellington. 
 The Armada arrived in the British channel ; when, by capture, the 
 confusion caused by the English fire-ships, and the subsequent vio-* 
 lent gale, this potent armament was so dreadfully shattered, that but 
 few of the ships returned to Spain. 
 
 Many arguments may be advanced in palliation of Elizabeth's 
 conduct in regard to Mary, queen of Scotland ; but the condemna- 
 tion of Mary, and Elizabeth's dissimulation to avoid its odium, will 
 
 ive a deep stain on her otherwise fair fame. 
 
 In person Elizabeth was tall, straight, and strong; with a high, 
 round forehead, brown eyes, fair complexion, fine teeth, and yellow 
 hair. She was a proficient in music, in history, the dead and living 
 languages, and in the sciences. Her memory was good, her con- 
 versation sprightly, her judgment solid, and her courage invincible. 
 It is true, that Elizabeth was quick-tempered, and sometimes vio- 
 lent ; that she was fond of admiration, and of a jealous disposition ; 
 but these faults, blended with her virtues, almost fade away ; she 
 had many difficulties to overcome, many passions to subdue ; she 
 sacrificed the pleasures of connubial life on the altar of patriotism, 
 and lived and died a faithful mother to the nation. 
 
 During this reign, watches, coaches^ tobacco, and the manufac- 
 tmv s of silk for clothing, were introduced into England. The 
 first paper-mill was erected at Dartford, by a German, in 1588, who 
 was knighted by Elizabeth ; but it was not before 1713, that one 
 Thomas Watkins, a stationer, brought the art of paper-making to 
 ;.ny perfection in England. Previous to that period, paper was im- 
 ported. The celebrated Dr. William Harvey, born 1578, died 1658. 
 
 JAMES I., (16031625,) 
 
 the VI. king of Scotland, and the first of the Stuart family in England. 
 He was the son of Mary, queen of Scotland, by her cousin Henry, 
 Lord Darnley, and was born in 1566. By this union of the crowns 
 "of England and Scotland under one king, (but two parliaments,) 
 a permanent peace was established between the two countries, 
 whirl) long and bloody wars had failed to accomplish. James liad 
 been educated a Presbyterian ; but when he became king of England, 
 h- rhan.'ied his sentiments, embraced Episcopacy, and denounced 
 the Puritans. He labored to extend the royal prerogative, to annihi- 
 late tli'- freedom of parliament and the rights of the people. This 
 conduct produced Court and Country parties, which continue to this 
 day, and are known by the phrases of lories and ivhigs. James 
 > mnn of some talents, but easily led astray by unprincipled fa- 
 vorites. He was less of a statesman than a religious controvertist. 
 He Wits corpulent, intemperate, and slovenly, and his reign produced 
 little good at home, and no respect abroad. James married Jlnne, 
 daughter of Frederick of Denmark. He had two sons and a daugh-
 
 A CHRONOLOGICAL SKETCH OF GREAT BRITAIN. 153 
 
 ter, Elizabeth. The island of Barbadocs, the first English settle- 
 ment in the West Indies, was planted in 1625. In this and the 
 preceding reigns, a number of eminent men arose in England, 
 among which were Spenser, Sidney, Bacon, Camden, Jonson, Cecil, 
 Sir Edward Coke, and the immortal Shakspeare, who died in 
 1616, aged 52. The English translation of the Bible now in use 
 was published in 1611. Sir Walter Raleigh died in 1618, aged 66. 
 
 CHARLES I., (16251649,) 
 
 son of James L, was born in 1GOO. Charles possessed the despotic 
 principles of his father, though perhaps in a greater degree. 
 
 "In ecclesiastical affairs, Charles, unhappily for himself and the 
 church, was guided by the counsels of Laud, the bishop of London, 
 (executed for high treason in 1645,) a prelate whose learning and 
 piety were debased by superstition, and a zeal as indiscreet as intol- 
 erant." The cause of religious liberty, at this period, appeared 
 almost desperate: great efforts were made to prevent the embarka- 
 tion of emigrants for New England ; of which number were the fa- 
 mous Oliver Cromwell and John Harnpden. Difficulties occurred 
 in Scotland, which produced the famous Covenant of 1638, whereby 
 the Covenanters, as they were called, engaged to stand together in 
 defence of their religious rights. The oppressed Catholics in Ire- 
 land rose in defence of their rights; and Charles, finding himself too 
 weak to withstand the torrent of popular opinion, renounced his 
 claims of prerogative in 1641 but too late to save his life. He fled 
 to Scotland, but was given up for 400,000, and beheaded, January 
 30, 1649. 
 
 Charles married Henrietta Maria of France, and left two song 
 and a daughter. Canada was ceded to France in 1629. 
 
 THE COMMONWEALTH, (1649 1660.) 
 
 After the death of Charles I., the parliament nominally governed, 
 but Cromwell was its master spirit 
 
 OLIVER CROMWELL was born of respectable parents, April 24, 
 1599, and was a cousin of the celebrated John Hampden. At the 
 age of 17, Cromwell was sent to Cambridge, where he studied with 
 zeal, but distinguished himself more in broils and combats than in 
 learning. The next year, he was sent to London to study law, but 
 spent his time in gambling and bad company. At the age of 21, he 
 renounced his vices and follies, connected himself with a religious 
 party, studied theology and military tactics, and married Elizabeth 
 Bourchier, a lady of good family and some pride. Cromwell was ;i 
 meml.er of parliament, and sided with the opposition against the 
 arbitrary measures of Charles I. He became commander of the 
 army, fought the battle at Worcester, Sept 3, 1651, and put < 'harles 
 Stuart to flight. " With the Bible in one hand, and the sword in the 
 other," Cromwell dissolved the long parliament, which had contin- 
 ued from 1640 to 1653, made himself lord protcdor of England, 
 Scotland, and Ireland, December 12, 1653, and died in full posses>ii>n 
 of his power, Sept. 3, 1658. Cromwell wa.i probably sincere in his 
 religious sentiments ; but his crafty nature, heated zeal, and love
 
 154 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 
 
 of power, united with the circumstances of the times, led him into 
 the windings of intrigue. " On his death-bed, he asked his preacher 
 whether it was true that the elect could never finally fall ; and when 
 assured that it was so, Cromwell rejoined, ' Then I am safe ; for I 
 am sure that once I was in a state of grace.' " 
 
 CHARLES II. (16611685.) 
 
 Cromwell's sons having declined the protectorship, Charles II., son 
 of Charles L, by the aid of the royal party, under General Monk, 
 came to the throne May 29, 1661. Charles was born in 1630. He 
 married the infanta of Portugal, a prudent and virtuous princess, in 
 1662 ; but his character was so deceitful, prodigal, and tyrannical, 
 that neither his family, nor the nation, derived any pleasure or honor 
 by tlirir connection with him. He governed four years without a 
 parliament, and was more under the influence of France than his 
 own people. He left no issue by his wife, but a number of illegiti- 
 mate children, the descendants of some of whom are among the 
 leading peerage of the country. 
 
 The plague carried off 68,596 persons in London, in 1665. In 
 1666, 13,200 houses were burnt in London ; the rums covered 
 436 acres of land. Tea was first used in England the same year. 
 The duke of Monmouth, a natural son of Charles II., raised a rebel- 
 lion, was defeated and beheaded by James II., hi 1685. The im- 
 mortal Milton died in 1674, aged 66. The learned jurist, Sir Matthew 
 Hale, died in 1676, aged 67. 
 
 JAMES II., (16851689,) 
 
 the VIL king of Scotland, son of Charles I., was born in 1633. 
 Previous to his coming to the throne, lie married Jlnne, daughter of 
 Lord Clarendon. His second wife was Mary Beatrice, daughter of 
 the duke of Modena. He left two daughters, Mary and Anne. 
 James was a good sailor, and greatly promoted the interests of the 
 navy; but he came to the throne with a determination to reestablish 
 the Catholic religion, and to make himself absolute in the govern- 
 ment. In both of these attempts he failed ; for, after burning and 
 hanging more than 250 Protestants by the judicial agency of the in- 
 famous Jeffreys, he was deposed in December, 1688, and fled to 
 France. He ended his miserable life at St. Germain in 1701. 
 
 WILLIAM AND MARY, (16891702.) 
 
 William III., prince of Orange and Nassau, and stadtholder of tlio 
 rnit'-d Provinces, was born in 1650. Princess .Won/ was the daugh- 
 ter of James II., and born in 1661. They were married in 1677, and 
 i lied wilbout issue. They obtained the crown by a bloodless revo- 
 lution, Feb. 13, 1689. During this reign the character of the British 
 nation rose in foreign countries; the rights and interests of the ]>; n- 
 jile were protected, the liberty of the press established, religious 
 opinions tolerated, commerce and manufactures encouraged, and 
 tli" navy fostered and increased. Mary died in 1694, to the gi-eut 
 regret of the nation. Previous to her marriage, when questioned in 
 repnl to a husband, she said, "There is but one command which I 
 wish him to obey ; and that is, ' Husbands, tore your wives.' 1 For my-
 
 A CHRONOLOGICAL SKETCH OF GREAT BRITAIN. 155' 
 
 self, I shall follow the injunction, ' Wives, Tie obedient to your husbands 
 in all things.' 1 " Mary performed her promise, and enjoyed tho af- 
 fection of her husband. William remained stadtholder of the I'nited 
 Provinces during his life. He was of the middle stature, grave, tem- 
 perate, and slow of speech. He had a fine forehead, aquiline nose, 
 and sparkling eyes. He was remarkable for his equanimity of tem- 
 per and military prowess. 
 
 THE BANK OF ENGLAND was incorporated in 1693, and granted to 
 certain persons who advanced the government 1,200,000, at 8 per 
 cent, per annum. This was the commencement of the funded na- 
 tional debt. The Bank of England is a bank of deposit, discount, 
 and circulation ; and is so connected with the government, that 
 neither the bank or the nation can manage its financial concerns 
 without the aid of the other. Its charter has been renewed, the 
 rates of interest varied, and its capital increased, from time to time. 
 Its present capital is .staled to be 11,642,400, of which 10,672,490 
 is pennaneiilly loaned to the government. The dividends of this 
 bank, from its charter to the present time, have varied from 4.} to 10 
 per cent. averaging about 7 per cent, per annum. Its circula- 
 tion, in 1817, was 30,099,908. From 1797 to 1823, the bank, by 
 permission of parliament, refused specie for its bills. During that 
 period, the depreciation of the bank paper did not exceed 15 pel- 
 cent. The quarterly statement of this bank, in July, Jk : 39, was as 
 follows : 
 
 Liabilities. 
 
 Circulation, 18,049,000 
 
 Deposits, 7,955,000 
 
 26.004,000 
 
 jJssets. 
 
 Securities, 24,905,000 
 
 Bullion, 3,785,000 
 
 28,690,000 
 
 ANNE, (17021714.) 
 
 As William and Mary left no child, Anne, the sister of Mary, and 
 the second daughter of James II., came to the throne. She was 
 born in 1664, andwas married, in 1683, to Prince George, brother 
 of Christian V., ofB>eninark, who died in 1710. Anne was lair, but 
 nut \-. i -y handsome. Her intellectual endowments were rather good 
 than great. She was remarkable for her piety and deeds of charity, 
 and her death produced unaffected sorrow. 
 
 Anne, by her arcessioii to the British throne, had the singular 
 good fortune to please both whigs and lories a miracle never per- 
 formed by man. The tories looked to her for an heir to the house; 
 of Stuart, while the whigs were confident of her determination to 
 preserve the bftjtince of power in Europe, by opposing the domineer- 
 ing spirit of Louis XIV., in his efforts to unite the French and Span- 
 ish crowns. Anne took Gibraltar from Spain, in 1704, but, although 
 she had borne seventeen children, died childless. Anne was there- 
 fore the last of the Stuart family. 
 
 The treaty of union bejpreen England and Scotland, with a com- 
 mon parliament, under the name of Great Britain, was signed July 
 22, 1706. By the treaty of Utrecht, in 1713, Nova Scotia, N<-w 
 Brunswick, New Britain, Hudson's Bay, and Newfoundland, were
 
 150 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 ceded by France to Great Britain. This reign is celebrated for the 
 success of the British arms, and for the eminent men of the British 
 nation who adorned the walks of literature. 
 
 GEORGE I. (17141727.) 
 
 The British parliament passed an act, in 1708, securing the suc- 
 cession of the British crown to Sophia, daughter of Frederick, elector 
 palatine and king of Bohemia, by Elizabeth, daughter of James I., 
 and to her descendants; thus vesting the succession of the crown in 
 the Protestant line of the house of Brunswick, to the exclusion of 
 the Catholic line of the house of Stuart. 
 
 George I. was the eldest son of Sophia, by Ernest Augustus, 
 duke, afterwards elector, of Brunswick-Lunenburg, or Hanover. 
 lie was born May 28, 1660. He succeeded his father as elector of 
 Hanover in 1700, and acquired the character of a brave and circum- 
 spect general. He was married, in 1682, to his cousin, Sophia Doro- 
 thea, daughter of the duke of Zell. They had a son, George II. ; 
 and a daughter, Sophia Dorothea, queen of Prussia. Although the 
 reign of George I. was marked by prejudices favorable to his native 
 country, yet, with Sir Robert Walpole as prime minister, the pros- 
 perity and power of the nation were increased. 
 
 The house of Brunswick, or Hanover, dates its origin from Azo II., 
 marquis of Tuscany, in the eleventh century. Guelph, a son of Azo, 
 was created duke of Bavaria in 1071. He married Judith of Flan- 
 ders, a lineal descendant of Alfred the Great. The ducal line, in 
 Germany, is another branch of the house of Brunswick. 
 
 George was plain and simple in his person and address ; grave 
 and temperate, though familiar and facetious in his hours of recrea- 
 tion. He died June 11, 1727. 
 
 Addison died in 1719, aged 47 ; the duke of Marl borough in 1722, 
 aged 72 ; and Newton in 1726, aged 84. 
 
 Inoculation for the small-pox commenced in England in 1727. 
 
 GEORGE II., (17271760,) 
 
 son of George I., was born in 1683, and die<^Dct, 25, 1760. In 
 1703, he married ff'ilhelmina Dorothea CarolincKtf Braudenburg- 
 Anspach, by whom he had two sons and five daughters. George 
 possessed all the attachment of his father for Germany, yet he 
 proved faithful to the nation, and acquired the love of his people. 
 In his person he was rather below the middle size, well shaped, 
 erect ; with prominent eyes, large nose, and fair complexion. His 
 temper was quick, but soon appeased. He was temperate, method- 
 ical, and brave. In this reign, by the guidance of Pitt, the first earl 
 of Chatham, the nation was raised to the height of glory ; commerce 
 and manufactures flourished, and the human mind made great dis- 
 plays of its power by many distinguished writers, whose works will 
 live to instruct and delight unborn millions. 
 
 In I ?.">.">, the cotton manufacture of England was ranked "amongst 
 the humblest of the domestic arts." The value of cotton goods man- 
 ufactured in England, in 1834, exceeded one hundred and sixty mil- 
 lions of dollars; the manufacture of which employed a million and 
 a half of people. 

 
 A CHRONOLOGICAL SKETCH OF GREAT BRITAIN. 157 
 
 In this reign the national debt amounted to 75,000,000, the in- 
 terest on which, being reduced to 3 per cent., forms, what is now 
 called, the consolidated or three per cent, stock. 
 
 GEORGE III. (17601820) 
 
 was the eldest son of Frederick, prince of Wales, by Prince^lrAu- 
 gusta of Saxe-Gotha, and grandson of George IL He was born 
 June 4, 1738. 
 
 The reign of George HL is peculiarly interesting to Americans, 
 as in 1776 the colonies, now the United States, were severed from 
 the dominion of the British crown. This event formed a new era. 
 It was the birth of liberty in the western world. At a vast expense 
 of blood and treasure, it taught the important lessons, that a brave 
 and intelligent people, firmly united in the cause of liberty, will al- 
 ways prevail ; and that no government is wise that extends its juris- 
 diction beyond its power of protection. George suffered, occasion- 
 ally, from mental derangement. From Feb. 6, 1811, to the time of 
 his death, Jan. 29, 1820, he was unfit to perform any of the duties of 
 government. During this period, the sovereignty was represented 
 by the late George IV., as prince regent. At the death of George 
 III., the national debt amounted to $3,490,896,768. During this 
 reign, Europe changed from a scene of bloody warfare to a state of 
 profound peace. On the 14th of July, 1815, the conqueror of coun- 
 tries and the creator of kingdoms sued for the protection of the Brit- 
 ish nation in these emphatic words : " Like Themistocles, I throw 
 myself on the protection of the most constant and the most generous 
 of my enemies. NAPOLEON." 
 
 The following great men died in this reign : Samuel Johnson, 
 in 1784, aged 75 ; Edmund Burke, in 1797, aged 67 ; Horatio Nel- 
 son, in 1805, aged 47 ; William Pitt, (earl of Chatham,) in 1806, aged 
 47, and Charles James Fox, in 1806, aged 58. 
 
 George III. was a man of common understanding, moderate ac- >. 
 quirements, and plain manners. Being a native of Great Britain, he 
 \\ ,-is five from foreign attachments. He was married, Sept. 8, 1761, 
 to the princess Charlotte Sophia of Mecklenburg-Strelitz. She was 
 born May 16, 1744, and died in 1818. George HI. and Queen Char- 
 lotte were exceedingly exemplary in all their domestic relations, and 
 both were greatly beloved by the people. They had thirteen chil- 
 dren, seven sons and six daughters, to wit : 
 
 Frederick Augustus, the late king, GEORGE IV. 
 
 Frederick, duke of York, born Aug. 16, 1763, died Oct. 4, 1830. 
 He was married, Sept. 29, 1791, to a daughter of the king of Prussia. 
 He left no issue. 
 
 William Hmry, the late king, WILLIAM IV. 
 
 Edward, late duke of Kent, father of Queen VICTORIA, born Nov. 
 2, 17(57, and died Jau. 23, 1820. He married Victoria Maria Louisa, 
 sister of the duke of Saxe-Coburg, and of Leopold, king of Belgium, 
 born Aug. 17, 1786. 
 
 The duke of Kent was in his person tall and athletic; his appear- 
 ance dignified, his deportment affable, and his bravery chivalrous. 
 He served at Gibraltar in 1790, and commanded in Canada in 1793. 
 14
 
 158 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 In the West India campaign, in 1795 6, his conduct procured him 
 the highest encomiums. In politics, he was invariably tolerant, lib- 
 eral, and conciliatory. 
 
 Ernest Augustus, king of HANOVER, late duke of Cumberland, was 
 l>orji June."), 1771. lie \\as marrii.'d to Fret I erica Sophia Carolina, 
 >':>ter ni'iln- <!ukc of Meckleuburg-Strelitz, May 29, 1H15. She was 
 born March 20, J77H. Issue, George Frederick* born May 27, 181!). 
 
 (irorirc I., at his accession to the British throne, was elector of 
 Hanover; and since that time, Hanover has been under the govern- 
 ment of Great Britain. In 1814, Hanover was erected into a king- 
 dom, and British kings have also been kings of Hanover. But as 
 the Salic law excludes females from the throne of Hanover, on the 
 accession of VICTORIA, the crown of that kingdom passed to the 
 duke of Cumberland, the eldest brother of King William IV. This 
 prince has generally resided in foreign countries. He is said to 
 have lived a dissipated life, and is very unpopular in England. 
 
 Augustus Frederick, duke of Sussex, born Jan. 27, 1773, married, 
 Dec. 5, 1793, Lady Augusta Murray, daughter of the earl of Dun- 
 more. She died in 1830. This marriage was declared void in 1794, 
 " because it was not contracted with the previous consent of the 
 king, according to 12 George IIL 
 
 Adolphus Frederick, duke of Cambridge, born Feb. 24, 1774, mar- 
 ried, May 7, 1818, Augusta Wilhelmina Louisa, niece of the land- 
 grave of Hesse. She was born July 5, 1797. Issue, George William, 
 born March 26, 1819; Augusta Caroline, born July 19, 1822; and 
 Mary Adelaide, born Nov. 27, 1833. 
 
 The Princess Elizabeth was born May 22, 1770, and was married, 
 April 7, 1818, to Frederick Joseph Lewis, landgrave of Hesse-Hom- 
 burg. He died April 2, 1829. 
 
 The Princess Mary, duchess of Gloucester, was born April 25, 
 1770, and was married, July 22, 1816, to her cousin, William Fred- 
 ^ erick, duke of Gloucester, who died Nov. 30, 1834. 
 
 The Princess Charlotte Augusta Matilda, born Sept. 29, 1766, and 
 married, May 18, 1797, to the duke of Wirtemburg-Stutgardt, and 
 Princess Amelia, born Aug. 7, 1783, are dead. 
 
 The Princess Augusta Sophia, born Nov. 8, 1768, and Princess 
 Sophia, born Nov. 3, 1777, are unmarried. Neither of the daughters 
 have issue. 
 
 GEORGE IV., (18201830,) 
 
 Frederick Augustus, prince of Wales, eldest son of George III., was 
 born Aug. 12, 1762, and died Jan. 26, 1830. He married, April 8, 
 1 7! (.I, Princess Caroline AmeKa Elizabeth of Brunswick, daughter of 
 duke Charles William Ferdinand, and Augusta, sister of George II I. 
 They had one child, the Princess CHARLOTTE AUGUSTA, who was 
 born Jan. 7, 1796. Charlotte was married, May 2, 1816, to Prince 
 Leopold of Saxe-Coburg, now king of Belgium. Princess Charlotte 
 was a pattern of all that is excellent in female character. She was 
 heiress apparent to the throne, and perfectly fitted to fill the station 
 of sovereign, had Providence permitted her to live ; but she was 
 suddenly removed by death, Nov. 5, 1817, leaving the nation over-
 
 A CHRONOLOGICAL SKETCH OF GREAT BRITAIN. 159 
 
 whelmed with grief; in which the people of every civilized country 
 sympathized. 
 
 The talents of George IV. were of the first order ; but they were 
 greatly abused by a dissipaied life. In person, he was considered 
 one of the handsomest men in the kingdom. He became regent of 
 the realm, on the illness of George III., Feb. 6, 1811, and kigg, on 
 the death of that monarch, Jan. 29, 1820. The conduct of this 
 prince towards his queen, Caroline, has left a stigma on his charac- 
 ter which never can be blotted out. In 1820, the queen was ac- 
 cused, before parliament, of having forfeited her rights as queen, in 
 consequence of her unfaithfulness to the marriage bed, which her 
 dissolute husband had deserted, since the birth of his daughter, the 
 Princess Charlotte. In this investigation, every feeling due to female 
 delicacy or princely dignity was entirely disregarded. Had the 
 charges against the queen been true, George IV. was the last man 
 in England to have complained of the incontinence of his wife. 
 Caroline died Aug. 7, 1821, and is buried at Brunswick, with these 
 expressive words over her tomb, "The unhappy queen of Eng- 
 land." 
 
 WILLIAM IV. (18301837.) 
 
 William Henry, duke of Clarence, the third son of George III., 
 was born Aug. 21, 1765. William Henry entered the navy as a mid- 
 shipman in 1778. He was fond of the naval service, and rose in reg- 
 ular gradation. He was made rear admiral of the Blue in 1790, and 
 lord high admiral in 1827. William was more of a sailor than a 
 statesman, and more of a statesman than many of his predecessors. 
 He was plain in his manners, honest, blunt, and noble-spirited. He 
 loved his country, and used his best efforts to promote its prosperity, 
 and the happiness of its people. From 1791 to 1811, William Henry 
 was connected with Mrs. Jordan, a very beautiful woman, by whom 
 he had ten children, eight of which survive. The eldest son is earlh 
 of Munster ; the other sons and daughters have the title and prece- <i 
 dence of the children of a marquis. Mrs. Jordan died in France, in 
 1816. William married, July 11, 1818, Adelaide Amelia Louisa Te- 
 resa Caroline, daughter ofthe duke of Saxe-Meiniuger. By her In- 
 had two daughters, who died in infancy. King William's widow, 
 Adelaide, or the queen dowager, was born Aug. 13, 1792. William 
 gained great popularity, and died much lamented, June 20, 1837 
 
 VICTORIA. (1837.) 
 
 Victoria A lexandrina, only child ofthe late duke of Kent, came to 
 the throne, on the death of her uncle, the late KING WILLIAM IV., 
 June 20, 1837. She was born May 24, 1819. The character of 
 VICTORIA, as the sovereign of a great and powerful nation, ra not 
 yet developed ; but, from the education of this princess, her excel- 
 lent natural talents, and amiable disposition, the people of Great 
 Britain have cause to indulge the most pleasing anticipations. 
 
 Victoria was crowned queen of England on the 28th of June, 
 1838. 
 
 3*
 
 160 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 DOMESTIC RECEIPTS. 
 
 Coffee. 
 
 Coffee was first brought to England in 1652. It was only pre- 
 pared and sold for a long time, at first, at taverns ; from which cir- 
 cumstance they acquired the name of " Coffee Houses." These 
 soon became the resort of literary men and politicians; and on this 
 account, more than from any hostility to the berry itself, it was that 
 these houses were all shut up by royal edict in 1675. Previously 
 to the introduction of tea and coffee into England, the people were 
 accustomed to drink beer and wine ; but their use had long been 
 known in the East. The Chinese were the first who prepared tea, 
 and the following anecdote will show that they are at least as whim- 
 sical as we, while it proves that the virtues attributed to tea are 
 either imaginary, or may be found hi many plants in our own coun- 
 try, whose cheapness has prevented them from being noticed. 
 When the Dutch first visited China, they could not obtain their tea 
 without disbursing money ; but on their second voyage, they carried 
 a great quantity of dried sage, and bartered it with the Chinese, at 
 the rate of one pound of sage for three or four pounds of tea; but 
 at length the Dutch could not procure a sufficient quantity of sage 
 to supply the demand. 
 
 The following are some of the rules laid down for preparing this 
 agreeable beverage : 
 
 1. The best coffee is imported from Mocha. It is said to owe 
 much of its superior quality to being kept long. 
 
 Coffee of all kinds should be carefully roasted by a gradual appli- 
 cation of heat scorching, but not burning it. Grinding coffee has 
 " :en found preferable to pounding it: by the latter process some 
 the oily substances are lost. A filtrating tin or silver pot, with 
 double sides, between which hot water must be poured, to prevent 
 the coffee from cooling, as practised in Germany, is the best ma- 
 chine to be used. Simple infusion in this implement, with boiling 
 water, is all that is required to make a cup of good coffee ; and the 
 use of isinglass, the white of eggs, or fish-skin, to fine the liquor, is 
 quite unnecessary. By this means coffee is made quicker than tea. 
 
 It requires about one small cup of coffee-powder to make four 
 cups of tincture. This is at the rate of an ounce of good powder 
 to four common coffee cups. When the powder is put in the bag, 
 as many cups of boiling water are poured over it as may be wanted : 
 and if the quantity wanted is very small, so that, after it is filtrated, 
 it does not reach the lower end of the bag, the liquor must be poured 
 back three or four times, till it has acquired the necessary strength. 
 
 2. Let it be burnt in a close vessel, at a moderate heat, till it be- 
 comes quite black. 
 
 Let the coffee be ground or pulverized very fine, and pour hot 
 water upon that portion which is designed for the morning or even- 
 ing, and let it stand twelve hours before it is used. During the
 
 DOMESTIC RECEIPTS. 161 
 
 process of steeping, be careful not to raise the degree of heat to the 
 point of boiling. Coffee prepared in this manner has a much richer 
 and more agreeable taste than when it is cooked in the usual way ; 
 and for this reason : Nearly all the aromatic, volatile principle, 
 which resides in it in its natural state, and which adds very much 
 to its pleasant flavor, is retained ; whereas, if it is subjected to a 
 high boiling heat a few moments, this ingredient is thrown off with 
 the steam or vapor, and nothing remains but the grounds and more 
 inferior qualities of the coffee. 
 
 Coffee has been repeatedly examined by chemists, both in its raw 
 and roasted state. Several ingredients enter into its composition, 
 such as resin, gum, a bitter extractive matter, gallic acid, &c. When 
 it is roasted, a peculiar change takes place in its constituent parts, 
 and if great care be not taken in the burning and steeping, the vol- 
 atile particles will be dissipated and lost. 
 
 3. In making coffee, much care is requisite to extract the whole 
 strength and flavor of the berry ; and moreover it is very erroneous 
 and most expensive to sweeten it with raw or moist sugar. Many 
 persons imagine that the moist sugar tends more to sweeten ; but 
 if experiment be made, it will be found that one half the quantity in 
 weight of refined sugar will add more sweetness, and the flavor 
 of the coffee will be much more pure and delicate. In Holland, 
 where coffee is the universal beverage of the lower classes, the sugar 
 cannot be too refined ; and the boatmen on the canals may be seen 
 mixing the most beautiful white refined sugar with their coffee, 
 while on such their custom and taste they pride themselves highly. 
 
 The seeds of grapes are generally used, in Germany, as a substi- 
 tute for coffee, and they make a very excellent substitute. When 
 pressed, they yield a quantity of oil, and afterwards, when boiled, 
 furnish a liquid very similar to that produced by coffee. Its flavor 
 is delicious. 
 
 Rice Bread. 
 
 Take one pound of rice, and boil it gently to a thick paste, which, 
 when mixed with the usual quantity of yeast, will be sufficient to 
 make 5 Ibs of wheat or barley meal into a dough. When risen, 
 bake it in the usual way. The London Chronicle says that this 
 mixture with wheat or barley will produce a very great increase of 
 food. 
 
 Apple Bread. 
 
 A Frenchman has invented, and practised with great success, a 
 method of making bread with common apples, very far superior to 
 potato bread. 
 
 After having boiled one third of peeled apples, he bruised 
 them while quite warm into two thirds of flour, including the proper 
 quantity of yeast, and kneaded the whole without water, the juice of 
 the fruit being quite sufficient. When the mixture had acquired the 
 consistency of paste, he put it into a vessel, in which he allowed it 
 to rise for twelve hours. By this process he obtained a very excellent 
 bread, full of eyes, and extremely palatable and light. 
 14*
 
 162 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 Sweet Apple Pudding. 
 
 Take one pint of scalding milk, half a pint of Indian meal, a tea- 
 spoonful of salt, and six sweet apples cut into small pieces, and bake 
 not less than three hours : the apples will afford an excellent rich 
 jelly. This is truly one of the most luxurious yet simple Yankee 
 puddings made. 
 
 Cream Cakes. 
 
 A quart of cream ; four eggs ; sifted flour sufficient for a thick 
 batter ; a small teaspoonful of pearlash or saleratus ; a spoonful of 
 salt. Beat four eggs very light, and stir them by degrees (a little at a 
 time) into a quart of cream ; add gradually enough of sifted flour 
 to make a thick batter; put hi the salt ; dissolve the pearlash in as 
 much vinegar as will cover it, and stir it into the mixture. Bake it 
 in muffin-rings. Send the cakes to the table quite hot ; pull them 
 open, and butter them. 
 
 For these cakes, sour cream is better than sweet. The pearlash 
 will remove the acidity, and the batter will be improved in lightness. 
 
 Ginger Sirup. 
 
 Take one pound of race ginger; beat it into small pieces in a 
 mortar. Lay them in a pan, cover them with water, and let them 
 soak all night Next day, take the ginger, with the water in which 
 it has soaked, put it into a preserving-kettle, with two gallons of 
 water, and boil it down to seven pints. Let it settle, and then strain 
 it through muslin. Put one pound of loaf sugar to each pint of the 
 liquor. After the sugar has melted in the liquor, return it to the 
 kettle, and boil it one hour more, skimming it well. When cold, 
 bottle it for use. 
 
 Potatoes a la Maitre d Hotel. 
 
 Every Englishman who goes to the continent eats potatoes a la 
 tnaitre d'hotel. On his return, he is desirous of having them at his 
 own table ; a thing that can seldom be accomplished, though the pro- 
 cess of preparing them is very simple. It is as follows: Boil the 
 potatoes, aiid let them become cold. Then cut them into rather 
 thick slices. Put a lump of fresh butter in a stew-pan, and add a 
 little flour, about a teaspoonful for a middling-sized dish. When 
 the flour has boiled a little while in the butter, add by degrees a 
 cupful of broth or water. When this has boiled up, put in the po- 
 tatoes with chopped parsley, pepper, and salt. Let the potatoes 
 stew a few minutes, then take them from the fire, and, when quite 
 off the boil, add the yolk of an egg beat up with lemon juice, and a 
 tablespoonful of cold water. As soon as the sauce has set, the po- 
 tatoes may be dished up, and sent to table. Magazine of Domestic 
 Economy. 
 
 Watery Potatoes. 
 
 We every day hear complaints about watery potatoes. Put into 
 the pot a piece of lime as large as a hen's egg ; and how watery
 
 DOMESTIC RECEIPTS. 163 
 
 soever the potatoes may have been, when the water is poured off, 
 the potatoes will be perfectly dry and mealy. 
 
 Baked Beans. 
 
 Put in a lump of saleratus as big as a walnut, and a little molasses, 
 with your beans before baking, and you will find them greatly im 
 proved. 
 
 Winter Batter. 
 
 An idea prevails very extensively, that good butter cannot be made 
 in the winter. This is a great mistake. Where the process is well 
 understood, as fine butter is made in the depths of winter, as at any 
 season of the year. By pursuing the following course, the matter 
 will l>e accomplished : Let the cows be kept under cover in a warm 
 stable, well fed with the best hay and provender, and milked regu- 
 larly morning and evening. Place the milk in pans, in as cold a 
 place as may be found about the dairy house ; the sooner it freezes, 
 the better. As soon as it is frozen thoroughly, take the cream from 
 the top the frost will force the cream to the surface and churn 
 it with no other warmth than the air of the kitchen at the distance 
 of eight or ten feet from the fire-place. It requires more time to 
 fetch the butter than in summer ; but when brought, it will be of 
 the finest flavor and quality. JV*. Y. Jldv. 
 
 Bad flutter. 
 
 It may be useful to grocers, as well as to private families, to know 
 that bad butter, so bad as to be scarcely eatable or salable, may be re- 
 stored to its original quality, by washing it in water sufficiently warm 
 to make it dissolve freely in the band, until the old salt is washed 
 out, and by then adding the proper quantity of new salt, and about 
 one ounce of fine moist sugar to the pound. Beat it up till it is 
 free from water, and it will be perfectly good. 
 
 Curing Meat. 
 
 The following receipt was brought from Ireland about 100 years 
 since, and has been in use with general satisfaction ever since ; that is, 
 beef and hams cured by this rule are never salt-burnt, but remain 
 juicy and tender for almost any length of time : For a barrel or 
 200 Ibs. of either, take 6 gallons of water, 12 Ibs. of salt, 4 ounces 
 of saltpetre, 14 gallons of molasses, and 12 Ibs. of coarse sugar. 
 
 This, when dissolved and mixed cold, makes a brine for a barrel, 
 which should be boiled over in June, and skimmed, and when cold 
 turned on the beef again. The beef should be handsomely cut in 
 pieces not less than 4 nor more than 12 Ibs. rubbed with fine 
 salt, and packed close ; then the brine turned on. Hams should lie 
 in this brine about three weeks before they are taken out to smoke ; 
 or, if a pint of pyroligneous acid be added to the brine, smoking 
 may be dispensed with. Ohio Farmer. 
 
 Chimneys. 
 
 Instead of plastering the inside of chimneys in the usual way,
 
 164 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 take mortar made with one peck of salt to each bushel of lime, 
 adding as much sand and loam as will render it fit to work, and then 
 lay on a thick coat If the chimney has no offsets for the soot to 
 lodge on, it will continue perfectly clean and free from all danger 
 ofLtaking fire. The writer of this has tried the experiment, and, 
 after three years' constant use of a chimney plastered as above 
 directed, he could never obtain a quart of soot, though he several 
 times employed a sweep to scrape it from top to bottom. To per- 
 sons living in the country, this will be found valuable. 
 
 Coring and cooking Pickled Fish. 
 
 [The following is from HENRY PURKETT, Esq. of Boston, late Inspector-General of Fish 
 in Massachusetts.] 
 
 The use of pickled feh, such as mackerel, salmon, shad, &c., is 
 becoming more general than formerly, and would be still more ex- 
 tensive, if the proper mode of preparing them for the table was 
 better understood. These fish constitute not only a salutary diet, 
 but, in many cases, make a very beneficial change in our food. 
 
 Whoever will give the following directions a fair trial, will become 
 sensible of their value : 
 
 First. The fish should be kept covered by the pickle by means of 
 a flat stone or slate laid on them. The oil, or animal fat, which 
 floats on the top of the cask, should not be removed, as it prevents 
 the fish from rusting ; but in taking the fish from the barrel or keg, 
 this oil ought to be put aside, care being taken not to let the fish 
 touch it. 
 
 Secondly. The fish should be washed clean, then put to soak in a 
 large quantity of water for eight or ten hours, with the flesh side 
 down. The time of soaking may be varied to suit the palate. It 
 must again be washed clean ; put it to soak six or eight hours in 
 milk, (if you have it,) then dry it by the fire. 
 
 Thirdly. When dry, lay it on the gridiron, with the flesh side 
 downward, over pretty lively coals, for five minutes, or till it is mod- 
 erately browned , then turn it with a plate, or some flat instrument 
 that will not break the skin, and let it remain over the coals ten or 
 fifteen minutes, or till it is cooked sufficiently. Slide it off the grid- 
 iron into the dish, and strip off the backbone with a broad knife ; 
 pat the fish, to cause the thick part of the fish to absorb the fat from 
 the belly part ; use no butter then you will enjoy all the flavor 
 and juices of the fish. 
 
 If a mackerel or shad so prepared does not relish, it must be 
 more the fault of the palate, than of the food. How many articles, 
 capable of being made into excellent dishes, are lost or spoiled from 
 want of care and skill in dressing them ! 
 
 Leather Water-Proof. 
 
 Mix together a quarter of a pound of mutton tallow, three ounces 
 of common turpentine, one ounce of shellac, and an ounce of bees- 
 wax. Make the leather perfectly dry and warm, and rub in this 
 mixture as warm as possible, and repeat the operation every other 
 day for three or four times successively.
 
 DOMESTIC RECEIPTS. 165 
 
 Feather Beds. 
 
 The want of feathers is altogether artificial, arising from a disregard 
 of the physical and moral well-being of infants and children ; and he 
 who has the good fortune never to have been accustomed to a feath- 
 er bed, will never in health need or desire one, nor in sickness, ex- 
 cept in cases of great morbid irritation, or excessive sensibility, or 
 some disease in which the pressure of a firm or elastic substance 
 might occasion pain. But when a rational regard to the preserva- 
 tion of health shall pervade the community, feathers will no more 
 be used without necessity or medical advice, than ardent spirits will 
 be swallowed without the same necessary advice. The physician 
 has frequent occasion to see persons who are heated, sweated, en- 
 feebled, by sleeping on feathers, as if from a fit of sickness ; enerva- 
 ted, dispirited, relaxed, and miserable. Medical Intelligencer. 
 
 Rice Cooking. 
 
 1st The rice must be thoroughly scrubbed and rinsed in several 
 waters, until the floury particles, which are often sour or musty, are 
 entirely removed. 
 
 3d. A handful of salt should be thrown into a pot of water, which 
 must l)oil before the rice is sprinkled in. 
 
 3d. The rice should be boiled steadily twelve minutes fcy the 
 watch ; the water should then be poured off, and the pot covered 
 and set close to the fire to steam for ten minutes. 
 
 Thus prepared, and eaten with gravy, milk, butter, &c., rice is 
 one of the most digestible articles of food in nature; but ifj on the 
 contrary, it be badly cooked, few substances are more apt to disor- 
 der the alimentary system. 
 
 Chickeiis. 
 
 A disease called the gapes, so destructive among chickens, may 
 be prevented, and, if not too far advanced, cured by a slight mixture 
 of assafoetida in their food. Four ounces, costing six cents per 
 ounce, dissolved in water, and mixed once a day in food, is enough 
 for four hundred chickens. 
 
 A Bake out. 
 
 The Banistable Patriot gives the following as a mode of cooking 
 fish on Cape Cod. 
 
 " A ' bake ' is prepared by first laying a bed of stones six or eight 
 feet square, on which a fire is built and kept burning until the stones 
 are red hot ; a layer of wet sea-weed is then thrown upon them, and 
 upon the sea-weed a layer of quohaugs or clarns. Over these is 
 placed another layer of wet sea-weed ; on this layer fish i? laid, 
 stuffed and wrapped in cloths ; and after another layer of sea--v\i < !, 
 vegetables may be put, or they may be placed between the fish and 
 qiiahaugs. Over the whole is thrown ;i thick covering of sea-v. , d, 
 which keeps in the steam that is generated by the heat of the stones, 
 and which thoroughly penetrates the whole mass. In a short turn-, 
 the ' bake ' is opened, and all the culinary preparations are found com- 
 pleted ' to a charm,' and ready for the table. In thio way, and with
 
 166 THE FAMILY VtSITOR. 
 
 little trouble or time, a rich feast may be served for a large com- 
 pany. The Indians, doubtless, prepared their public dinners in this 
 summary mode ; and it is from them that their white brethren are 
 indebted for this art in cookery." 
 
 Cure for Cancer. 
 
 Take the narrow-leaved dock-root, boil it in soft water, wash the 
 ulcer with the strong decoction warm as it can be borne ; fill the cav- 
 ity with the liquor for two minutes ; then scrape the hulk of the root, 
 bruise it fine, put it on gauze, and lay it over every part of the ulcer ; 
 dip a linen cloth in the decoction, and put that over the gauze : re- 
 peat this three times in 24 hours, and at each time let the patient take a 
 wine-glass of the tea made of the root with one third of a glass of 
 Port wine sweetened with honey. This recipe is strongly recom- 
 mended by the Rev. Dr. CUTLER, of Poughkeepsie, N. Y. 
 
 Cramp. 
 
 This extraordinary fact has been determined, that, in cases of the 
 cramp, a bar of iron, placed under the mattress on which the person 
 is sleeping, transversely near the calf of the leg, will effectually pre- 
 vent the recurrence of the attack. The bar may be an inch square, 
 or a common poker will do. If there be two mattresses, place the 
 bar between them. This has been attested, and may be generally 
 recommended. 
 
 Cure for Colds. 
 
 Take a large teaspoonijul of flax-seed, with two pennyworth of ex- 
 tract of liquorice, and a quarter of a pound of sun raisins. Put it into 
 two quarts of soft water, and let it simmer over a slow fire, till it is 
 reduced to one ; then add to it a quarter of a pound of brown sugar 
 candy, pounded, a tablespoonful of white wine vinegar, or lemon 
 juice. J\Tolt. The vinegar is best to be added only to that quantity 
 you are going immediately to take ; for if it be put into the whole, it 
 is liable m a little time to grow flat. Drink a half pint on going to 
 bed, and take a little when the cough is troublesome. 
 
 This recipe generally cures the worst of colds in two or three 
 days, and, if taken in time, may be said to be almost an infallible reme- 
 dy. It is a sovereign balsamic cordial for the lungs, without the 
 opening qualities which engender fresh colds on going out. It has 
 been known to cure colds, that have almost been settled into con- 
 sumptions, in less than three weeks. 
 
 Hoarseness. 
 
 One drachm of freshly-scraped horse-radish root, to be infused with 
 four ounces of water in a close vessel for two hours, and made into a 
 sirup with double its weight in vinegar, is an approved remedy for 
 hoarseness ; a teaspoonful has often proved effectual ; a few teaspooii- 
 fuls, it is said, have never been known to fail in removing hoarseness. 
 
 Burns. 
 
 Mr. A. Brunson, of Meadville, Pa., says, from fifteen years' experi- 
 ence, he finds that an Indian meal poultice, covered over with
 
 DOMESTIC RECEIPTS. 167- 
 
 young hyson tea, softened with hot water, and laid over burns and 
 frozen flesh, as hot as it can be borne, will relieve the pain in five 
 minutes ; that, if blisters have not arisen before, they will not after it 
 is put on ; and that one poultice is generally sufficient to effect a 
 cure. 
 
 Consumption. 
 
 The following is said to be an effectual remedy, and will in time 
 completely eradicate the disorder. Live temperately avoid spirit- 
 uous liquors wear flannel next the skin and take, every morning, 
 half a pint of new milk, mixed with a wine-glass full of the expressed 
 juice of green hoarhound. One who has tried it says "Four 
 weeks' use of the hoarhound and milk relieved the pains of my 
 breast^ gave me to breathe deep, long, and free, strengthened and har- 
 monized my voice, and restored me to a better state of health than I 
 had enjoyed for years." Albany Daily Advertiser. 
 
 Edward C. Cooper, a gentleman who has retired from medical 
 practice, gives, in the N. Y. Commercial Advertiser, a mode of treat- 
 ment for disease of the lungs, which, in an experience of more than 
 twelve years, he found generally effective in curing consumptive pa- 
 tients. 
 
 The treatment, says he, is the administration of sulphate of copper 
 in nauseating doses, combined with gum ammoniac ; given so as to 
 nauseate, but not ordinarily to produce full vomiting : the usual dose 
 for this purpose is about half a grain and five grains of the respec- 
 ti\j ingredients, in ateaspoonful of water, to be taken, at first twice, 
 and in the convalescent stages once a day. 
 
 In cases of chronic bronchitis, a gargle of the sulphate of copper 
 alone is superadded. In this latter form of consumption, this treat- 
 ment almost invariably suspends the hectic symptoms in a few 
 day.--, and the disease rapidly advances to its final cure. 
 
 In cases of the more proper forms of consumption, the treatment 
 must be intermitted frequently, and again returned to; and whenever 
 soreness of the chest, or other symptoms of inflammatory action 
 the treatment should be suspended: as it is in the chronic state 
 alone that the remedy is indicated or useful, that state in which the 
 condition of the general system Is sympathetically involved, becomes 
 the more prominent symptom ; and the success of the treatment de- 
 pends chiefly on the breaking up this sympathetic action of the dis- 
 I lung on the more healthy tone of the stomach, and increasing 
 its digestive powers, and likewise causing, during nauseating action, 
 a more active and healthy circulation of blood through the lungs. Its 
 curative powers are more immediately attributed to these effects of 
 its action. But, theoiy apart, the treatment is presented ba.scd on 
 more than ten years' experience of its curative advantages in tin; 
 proper treatment of diseases of muco-purulent and purulent expec- 
 toration. Buffalo Journal. 
 
 Inflammations. 
 
 A lady, from actual and repeated experiment; has found that con- 
 centrated chlorate of soda is an immediate and effectual cure for
 
 168 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 the sting of bees, mosquitoes, &c. ; for burns, (where the skin is not 
 broken,) ringworms, and other like inflammations. 
 
 Poison. 
 
 As a check to the rapid progress of disorganization and death, 
 generally consequent on taking acrid poison, corrosive sublimate, ver- 
 digris, or any salt of copper, a knowledge of the fact, that the white 
 . of eggs swallowed very frequently, and without limitation as to 
 quantity, is the most appropriate remedy, till the arrival of medical 
 assistance, cannot be unimportant nor too generally known. 
 
 Sleigh-Sickness. 
 
 A piece of fish-skin, applied to the pit of the stomach, is said to 
 be a capital cure for sleigh-sickness that indefinable kind of faint- 
 ness and sickness, which so many experience more particularly 
 females while riding in a sleigh. 
 
 Ringworms. 
 
 After I had the tetter nearly twenty years on my hand, and had 
 used dollars' worth of celebrated tetter ointment, which took off the 
 skin repeatedly without effecting a cure, a friend advised me to ob- 
 tain some blood-root, (called also red-root, Indian paint, &c.) to 
 slice it in vinegar, and afterwards wash the place affected with the 
 liquid. I did so, and in a few days the dry scurf was removed, and 
 my diseased hand was as whole as the other. Am. Farmer. 
 
 Asthma. 
 
 Make a strong solution of saltpetre. Dip clean paper in the solu- 
 tion until it is well saturated. Dry the paper in the sun or by a slow 
 fire. Cut the paper thus dried into strips, and burn them in a vessel, 
 so that the asthmatic may breathe in, or inhale, as much of the 
 smoke as possible. 
 
 Make cigars of the paper, if you choose, and smoke them. This 
 is the most agreeable method of application. 
 
 Cure for Cough. 
 
 Take of emulsion of gum ammoniac, 8 oz. ; sirup of balsam tolu, 
 $ oz. ; sirup of squills, 4 oz. ; wine of antimony, \ oz. ; paregor- 
 ic, i oz. This is known to many by the name of white mixture. 
 Half the above quantity is sufficient for one person. Take one table- 
 spoonful at night, and one in the morning. It has cured thousands. 
 
 Milk. 
 
 This aliment has been placed between the foods of the vegetable 
 kingdom and the animal ; but, though an animal product, chemical 
 analysis demonstrates that there is no essential difference between 
 it and the fruit of the almond the sweet almond; the latter con- 
 taining exactly the constituents in a solid form which compose the 
 former in a fluid. Almost the only difference between them is, that 
 milk made of almonds and water concretes by heat alone, whereas 
 natural milk requires rennet, or an acid, before heat will coagulate 
 it- ~ Dr. Weatherhead on Diseases of the Lungs.
 
 DOMESTIC RECEIPTS. 1C9 
 
 , 
 
 Sago Bread. 
 
 This light and nutritious article, for invalids, is made in the fol- 
 lowing manner : Two Ibs. of sago, to be well soaked in water, or 
 milk, several hours ; mix it with as much flour ; add saleratus and 
 good yeast, (a little Indian meal, if'liked;) when well raised, give it 
 a handsome bake. It is delicious, healthy, and cheap. 
 
 Currant Wine. 
 
 Take the currants when perfectly ripe, (which is about the second 
 or third week in July,) mash them and strain the liquid, and to 
 each quart thereof take three quarts of clean water, and three 
 pounds of low-priced sugar. Put the currant juice first into the 
 keg, which must l>e perfectly clean and sweet ; mix the sugar and 
 water hi a tub, and after the former is well dissolved, fill the keg 
 therewith. The proportions of each should be taken to fill what- 
 ever vessel may be used, as in that case all the filth which may re- 
 main from the currants and sugar will work out of the bung-hole. 
 The keg should be put in a dark, cool place, to prevent it from being 
 disturbed and the flies gathering. When the fermentation is over, 
 close the keg up, and let it remain thus for several months, when it ^ 
 may be racked, the keg cleansed, and the wine put in again. 
 Franklin Repository. 
 
 Nutritious Matter in Food. 
 
 The nutritious matter, contained in 100 Ibs. of the following arti- 
 cles, is from the works of Percy, Vaquelin, and other distinguished 
 analytical chemists. 
 
 Ibs. 
 
 Rye, from 70 to 75 
 
 Indian Corn, " 65 to 70 
 
 Butcher's Meat, (average,). . . .35 
 
 Potatoes, .25 
 
 Beets, ,*..16 
 
 Carrots, 14 
 
 Turnips, Cabbages, &c 6 to 8 
 
 Ibs. 
 
 Rice, 95 
 
 Lentiles, (a kind of half pea,). 94 
 
 Peas, 93 
 
 French Beans, 92 
 
 Broad Kidney Bean, 89 
 
 Wheat, from 80 to 85 
 
 Barley, 75 to 80 
 
 Sugar from Potatoes. 
 
 A detail of the process of making sugar from potatoes is given in 
 Silliman's Journal. It is there said that 
 
 "A bushel of potatoes weighs about sixty pounds, and gives 
 eight pounds of pure, fine, dry starch. This amount of starch \s ill 
 make live pints of sugar, of the weight of nearly twelve pounds to 
 the gallon, equal to seven pounds and a half to the bushel of pota- 
 toes, or a little less than a pound of sugar to the pound of starch. 
 The sugar is not as sweet as the Muscovado sugar, nor is it actually 
 as sweet as its taste would indicate. 
 
 "This sugar may be use<l for all kinds of domestic purposes. It 
 ferments with great liveliness and spirit, when made into beer, 
 yielding n healthful and delicious beverage. It would, however, lie 
 most useful hi making ssveetmeats, and may be used upon the table 
 in lieu of honey, for which it is a good substitute." 
 15
 
 170 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 Good Housekeepers. 
 If there be any thing among the temporals to make life pleasant* 
 it is in the walls of a well-ordered house where all is adjusted to 
 please not by its finery or costliness, but by its fineness, its air of 
 neatness and content, which invite all who enter to taste its comforts. 
 The woman who does not make this a grand item in all her routine 
 of duties, has not yet learned the true dignity of her station has 
 not yet learned the Alpha of that long alphabet which is set before 
 her ; and she who despises this noble attainment, despises her best 
 worldly good, and indirectly despises her family, her neighbors, and 
 the word of God. " She looketh well to the ways of her house- 
 hold," was spoken by the wisest man that ever lived, and will be 
 told as a memorial to all those who have been eminent for this noble 
 quality. 
 
 Mortar. 
 
 Much of the mortar used in building, is said to be imperfectly 
 made. Four parts coarse, and three parts fine sand, with one part 
 of quick-lime, well mixed with but little water, makes mortar which 
 soon becomes as hard as adamant ; resisting all atmospheric action, 
 as durably as the material it unites ; and with the addition of a por- 
 tion of manganese, it will harden under water. Neivburyport 
 Herald. 
 
 Use of Lime. 
 
 Lockhart, in his Life of Sir Walter Scott, relates the following 
 anecdote : 
 
 " There, see," he continued, " that farm there, at the foot of the 
 hill, is occupied by a respectable enough tenant of mine. I told 
 him I had a great desire for him to try the effect of lime on his land. 
 He said he doubted its success, and could not venture to risk so 
 much money as it would cost. 'Well,' said I, 'fair enough ; but as I 
 wish to have the experiment tried, you shall have the lime for the 
 mere carting ; you may send to the place where it is to be bought, 
 and, at the term-day, you shall strike off the whole value of the lime 
 from the rent due to me.' When the pay-day came, my friend the 
 farmer came with his whole rent, which he laid down on the table 
 before me, without deduction. 'How's this, my man? you are to 
 deduct for the lime, you know.' ' Why, Sir Walter,' he replied, 
 'my conscience will not let me impose upon you so far; the lime 
 you recommended me to try, and which but for your suggestion I 
 would never have tried, has produced more than would have pur- 
 chased the lime half a dozen times over, and I cannot think of 
 making a deduction.' " 
 
 Dutch Butter. 
 
 Large quantities of butter are annually imported into England 
 from Holland, and some from the same country has occasionally 
 found its way into this. It is justly celebrated for its superior 
 quality, and its power of resisting decomposition, or its not being 
 liable to become rancid. In the Holland dairies, every thing is con-
 
 DOMESTIC RECEIPTS. 171 
 
 ducted with a' system and neatness, from the feeding of the.cows to 
 the completion of the butter, worthy of all imitation and praise. 
 That there is any thing in the climate or pastures of Holland that 
 renders their dairy products superior to those of the rest of Europe, 
 'or to ours, is not to be supposed; the difference is clearly in the 
 manipulation ; and were our butter and cheese in general made 
 with as much skill and care as in Holland, we might successfully 
 compete with the Dutch in the West Indies and other markets, to 
 which our butter will now barely pay the cost of transportation. 
 According to the report of Mr. Mitchel, made to the Highland 
 Society of Scotland, the process in the Dutch dairies is substantially 
 as follows : The milk, when taken from the cow, is poured into 
 large earthen pitchers, and placed in a vat of cold water, which 
 quickly reduces the temperature. It is then placed on shelves until 
 the cream separates, when it is taken off and placed in vessels lor 
 churning. In these it is first allowed to become a little soured, and 
 then the churn is half filled with the cream. In the best dairies, 
 churning is performed daily, the system being so arranged, that a 
 supply is constantly in readiness. In winter, a little boiled warm 
 water is added to the cream, to give the proper temperature previ- 
 ous to churning ; and in very warm weather, it is sometimes sub- 
 mitted to the cold bath to reduce the heat The butter, when taken 
 from the churn, is put in a shallow vessel, and carefully washed 
 with pure, cold water, and then worked with a slight sprinkling of 
 fine salt, whether intended for rolls or for barreling. The butter ia 
 considered best when the cows have been at grass about three 
 weeks ; it is then delicious is made into fanciful forms of animals, 
 pyramids, &c., and stuck over with fragrant flowers, and sells as 
 high as sixty or seventy cents per pound. When intended for 
 packing, the butter is worked up twice or thrice a day, with soft, 
 fine salt, for three days, in a shallow tub ; there being about two 
 pounds of this salt used for fourteen pounds of butter. After this 
 thorough preparatory working, the butter is then hard packed, in 
 thin layers, into casks made perfectly sweet and clean. The wood 
 preferred is oak, smoothed carefully inside. Three or four days 
 before they are used, the casks are filled with sour whey ; and this 
 stands until they are emptied and cleansed for the packing of the 
 butter. It is clear, from this description, that, independent of the 
 perfect neatness observed in every part of the process, the excel- 
 lence of the Dutch butter, and the ease with which it is kept in its 
 original sweetness when packed, is owing to the manner in which 
 it i.-; freed from the least particle of buttermilk, by the first washing, 
 and the subsequent repeated workings, as well as to the perfect in- 
 corporation of the salt by the same process. There are many of 
 our American dairies that produce superior butter ; but as a whole, 
 that offered in our markets is a miserable article, destitute of that 
 rich flavin- belonging to good butter, and, owing to the great amount 
 of buttermilk left in it, utterly unfit for keeping. We believe a re- 
 form, in these respects, would add materially to the profit of those 
 who sin MI Id attempt it, as well as add greatly to the comfort of the 
 great mass of purchasers and consumers. Genesee Farmer.
 
 172 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 Tar for Sheep. 
 
 A gentleman, who keeps a large flock of sheep, says that, during 
 the season of grazing, he gives his sheep tar, at the rate of a gill a 
 day for every twenty sheep. He puts the tar in a trough, sprinkles 
 a little fine salt over it, and the sheep consume it with eagerness. 
 This preserves them from worms in the head, promotes their gen- 
 eral health, and is thought to be a specific against the rot. 
 
 To remove Spots of Grease, Pitch, or Oil from Woollen Cloth. 
 
 In a pint of spring water dissolve an ounce of pure pearlash, 
 adding to the solution a lemon cut in small slices. This being 
 properly mixed, and kept in a warm state for two days, the whole 
 must be strained and kept in a bottle for use. A little of this liquid, 
 poured on the stained part, is said instantaneously to remove all 
 spots of grease, pitch, or oils ; and the moment they disappear, the 
 cloth is to be washed in clear water. Glasgow Mechanics 1 Mag. 
 
 To take' Grease out of Silk. 
 
 If a little powdered magnesia be applied on the wrong side of silk, 
 where the spot is discovered, it is a never-failing remedy ; the dark 
 spots disappearing as if by magic. 
 
 To prevent Smut in "Wheat. 
 
 Dissolve two ounces of blue vitriol in one quart of water, and 
 apply this to eveiy bushel of seed wheat at least twenty-four hours 
 previous to sowing. The application has never been known to fail. 
 
 Mode of securing Timber from Decay. 
 
 Timber for buildings, especially for ships, bridges, canals, gran- 
 .-irii's and stables, may be effectually preserved from decay, and 
 particularly from the rot, by repeatedly impregnating the wood with 
 a solution of common salt and green copperas. This simple process 
 iidecl with such decided advantage, that wood, thus prepared, 
 will remain for ages perfectly sound. 
 
 Wood impregnated with alum, salt, or copperas, is also rendered, 
 in a great degree, incombustible as well as incorruptible. When 
 thus prepared, it may be charred or consumed by intense heat, but 
 can scarcely be made to blaze, and of course would not readily com- 
 municate fire to other objects in its vicinity. Farmer's Monthly 
 Visitor. '> . *. 
 
 General Directions for making Sweetmeats and Jellies. 
 
 In preparing sugar for sweetmeats, let it be entirely dissolved 
 before you put it on the fire. If yon dissolve it in water, allow about 
 half a pint of water to a pound of sugar. If you boil the sugar before 
 you add the fruit to it, it will be improved in clearness by passing it 
 through a flannel bag. Skim oft' the brown scum, all the time it is 
 boiling. If sweetmeats are boiled too long, they will lose their flavor 
 and become of a dark color. If boiled too short a time, they will not 
 keep well. You may ascertain when jelly is done, by dropping a 
 small spoonful in a glass of water. If it spreads and mixes with 

 
 DOMESTIC RECEIPTS. . 173 
 
 the water, it requires more boiling. If it sinks in a lump to the bot- 
 tom it is sufficiently done. This trial must be made after the jelly is 
 cold. Raspberry jelly requires more boiling than any other sort ; 
 black currant jelly less. Keep your jellies, &c., in glass jars, or in 
 those of white queens ware. 
 
 To make Currant Jelly. 
 
 Pick your currants very carefully, and if it be necessary to wash 
 them, be sure they are thoroughly drained. Place them in a stone 
 jar, well covered, in a pot of boiling water. When cooked soft, 
 strain them through a coarse cloth, add one pound of fine Havana 
 sugar to each pound of the jelly put into ajar, and cover as above. 
 Or you may break your currants with a pestle and squeeze them 
 through a cloth. Put a pint of clean sugar to a pint of juice, and 
 boil it very slowly till it becomes ropy. 
 
 This is an excellent article, especially in sickness; and no family 
 need or ought to be without a supply. 
 
 Cherry Jam. 
 
 To twelve pounds of Kentish or duke cherries, when ripe, weigh 
 one pound of sugar ; break the stones of part and blanch them ; 
 then put them to the fruit and sugar, and boil all gently till the jam 
 comes clear from the pan. Pour it into China plates to come up 
 dry to table. Keep in boxes, with white paper between. 
 
 Currant Jam, Black, Red, or White. 
 
 Let the fruit be very ripe, pick it clean from the stalks, bruise it, 
 and to every pound put three quarters of a pound of loaf sugar; stir 
 it well, and boil half an hour. 
 
 To preserve Raspberries. 
 
 Pick your raspberries in a dry day, just before they are fully ripe ; 
 lay them on a dish, beat and sift their weight of fine sugar, and 
 strow it over them. To every quart of raspberries, take a quart of 
 red currant jelly, and put to it its weight of fine sugar; boil and skim 
 it well, then put in your raspberries, and give them a scald. Take 
 them off and let them stand over two hours ; then set them on 
 again, and scald until they look clear. 
 
 Grape Jelly. 
 
 Pick the grapes from the stems, wash and drain them. Mash 
 them with a spoon. Put them in the preserving kettle and cover 
 them with a large plate ; boil them ten minutes ; then pour them 
 into your jelly-bag and squeeze out the juice. Allow a pint of juice 
 to a pound of sugar. Put the sugar and juice into the kettle, and 
 boil twenty minutes, skimming them well. Fill your glasses while 
 the jelly is warm, and tie them up with papers dipped in brandy. 
 
 To dry Cherries. 
 
 To every five pounds of cherries, stoned, weigh one of sugar 
 double refined. Put the fruit into the preserving-pan with very 
 15*
 
 174 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 little water; make both scalding hot; take the fruit out, and 
 immediately dry them ; put them into the pan again, strewing 
 the sugar between each layer of cherries ; let it stand to melt ; 
 then set the pan on the fire, and make it scalding hot, as before ; 
 take it off, and repeat this thrice with the sugar. Drain them 
 from the sirup, and lay them singly to dry on dishes in the sun or 
 on the stove. When dry, put them into a sieve, dip it into a pan of 
 cold water, and draw it instantly out again, and pour them on a fine, 
 soft cloth ; dry them, and set them once more in the hot sun, or 
 on a stove. Keep them in a box, with layers of white paper, in a 
 dry place. This way is the best to give plumpness to the fruit, as 
 well as color and flavor. 
 
 Peach Jelly. 
 
 Wipe the wool well off your peaches, which should be free of 
 stones, and not too ripe, and cut them in quarters. Crack the stones 
 and break the kernels small. Put the peaches and kernels into a 
 covered jar, set them in boiling water, and let them boil till they are 
 soft. Strain them through a jelly-bag until all the juice is squeezed 
 out. Allow a pint of loaf-sugar to a pint of juice. Put the sugar 
 and juice into a preserving-kettle, and boil them twenty minutes, 
 skimming them carefully. Put the jelly warm into glasses, and 
 when cold, tie them up with brandied papers. [Plum and green- 
 gage jelly may be made in the same manner with the kernels, which 
 greatly improve the flavor.] 
 
 Gooseberry Jelly. 
 
 Cut the gooseberries in half, they must be green, and put them 
 into ajar closely covered. Set the jar in an oven or pot filled with 
 boiling water. Keep the water boiling round the jar, till the goose- 
 berries are soft ; take them out, mash them with a spoon, and put 
 them into a jelly-bag to drain. When all the juice is squeezed out, 
 measure it, and to a pint of juice allow a pint of loaf-sugar. Put 
 the juice and sugar into the preserving-kettle, and boil them twenty 
 minutes, skimming them well. Then put the jelly warm into glasses 
 closely covered with brandied papers. [Cranberry jelly is made in 
 the same manner.] 
 
 To preserve Pears, Plums, Damsons, &c., for Tarts and Pies. 
 
 Gather them when full grown and just as they begin to turn. 
 Pick" one third of the largest out and put to them as much water as 
 will cover them ; boil and skim them. When the fruit is boiled soft, 
 strain it through a coarse seive, and to every quart of* this liquor put 
 a pound and a half of sugar ; boil and skim it, and then throw in 
 your fruit ; just give them a scald, take them oft' the fire, and, when 
 cold, put them into bottles with wide mouths, pour your sirup over 
 them, lay a piece of white paper dipped in sweet oil over them> and 
 cover tight. 
 
 The editor of the Yankee Farmer, who ought to be good authority 
 on such subjects, says "The following is an easy and wholesome 
 method to make preserves and jellies without using brass or till, or
 
 DOMESTIC RECEIPTS. 
 
 1. 
 
 any other poisonous utensil. Currants, strawberries, blackberries, 
 raspberries, cranberries, or damsons, may be preserved in the same 
 way. 
 
 To make Jelly. 
 
 Take a peck of currants on the stem or strings, wash them 
 thoroughly, and let them set in a large wooden bowl or tray to 
 drain ; next day, put them on common dinner plates, and set them 
 in the oven as soon as the flour bread is taken out ; in an hour or 
 two they will be scalded through ; take them out and separate the 
 juice from the skins and seeds by straining them through a clean, 
 coarse cloth, then return the juice into the plates, and set them im- 
 mediately into the oven to dry away. Have as many plates as the 
 oven will hold, for the smaller the quantity of juice on a plate the 
 sooner it will be thick enough to add the sugar. Let the juice dry 
 away until it is about as thick as molasses, which perhaps will not 
 be till the oven is cold. When the juice is sufficiently thick, put it 
 into a large pitcher, and add as many pounds of sugar as you had 
 of currant juice before it was dried away ; then set the pitcher into 
 an iron dinner pot, with water enough to reach half way up the 
 pitcher ; cover the pitcher with a saucer, and the pot with the pot- 
 lid or cover ; put it over the fire, and let it boil till the jelly is 
 thoroughly scalded ; it must be taken off the fire two or three times, 
 and stirred with a large silver spoon or clean wooden stick ; when 
 thoroughly scalded, take it off, and when it is cold, cover it close 
 and keep it in a dry, cool place. 
 
 To prepare Preserves. 
 
 Wash the fruit and let it drain dry ; then set it on plates in a 
 pretty warm oven, (after the flour bread is drawn out it will be about 
 the right heat ;) let it set about an hour or two, so as to be scalded 
 through ; take it out and pour it off, and return the juice to the oven 
 to dry away ; when it is as thick as molasses, add it to the fruit from 
 which it was taken, and put it into a stone or earthen preserving- 
 pot ; add as many pounds of sugar as you had of fruit before it was 
 put into the oven, then place the pot in a kettle of water, cover the 
 pot with a plate, and set the water a boiling ; after they are well 
 scalded, take them off, and set them in a dry, cool place. They may 
 be made with molasses instead of sugar, only the molasses must be 
 boiled till it is as thick as it can be, or as thick as you would boil it 
 for candy. 
 
 Blackberry Sirup. 
 
 We are indebted to a friend for the following receipt for making 
 blackberry sirup. This sirup is said to be almost a specific for 
 'timer complaint. In 1832, it was successful in more than one 
 case of cholera. To two quarts of juice of blackberries, add one 
 pound loaf-sugar, half an ounce of' nutmegs, half an ounce of cinna- 
 mon, pulverized, half an ounce of cloves, quarter of an ounce of 
 allspice, pulverized. Boil all together for a short time, and, when 
 cold, add a pint of fourth proof brandy. From a tea-spoonful to a 
 wine-glass, according to the age of the patient, till relieved, is to be 
 given. Farmer's Cabinet,
 
 176 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 Rhubarb Pies. 
 
 Gather a bundle of the leaf-stocks of sufficient quantity ; cut off 
 the leaf and peal the stock of the thin epidermis ; cut in quarter- 
 inch pieces, and lay them into the crust ; cover well with sugar, and 
 add nutmeg, orange-peal and spice to taste. The flavor is equal, 
 and many deem it preferable, to gooseberries. The pie-plant is 
 perennial, herbaceous, and very hardy. A dozen plants will afford 
 a family a constant supply. 
 
 Sugar. 
 
 This is the most nourishing substance in nature. It affords more 
 nutriment than rice. It enters into the composition of most vege- 
 tables, and abounds in the beet, melon, apple, and others which are 
 the most palatable. It seems requisite for the sustenance of animal 
 life, and sailors who are compelled to subsist only on salted meats, 
 without vegetables, are afflicted with disease. Crews of vessels have 
 subsisted on it, during times of scarcity, and in such cases it has 
 cured the scurvy. The first settlers of this country, in order to ob- 
 tain it, used to boil up the chips of the walnut trees, which they 
 had cut down. The Indians, on their long journeys, prefer it to 
 any other food, because it will not corrupt, and they mix it liberally 
 with their powdered Indian corn. The juice of the sugar-cane is so 
 pleasant, healthy, and nourishing, that all persons in the south em- 
 ploy it. The healthy negroes become robust, and the feeble recover 
 their health by its use. Cattle, to whom the tops are given, grow 
 fat ; horses thrive upon it, and are said to be fond of it ; while pigs 
 and poultry fatten on the refuse. It is said that the plague has 
 never appeared in those countries where it is most used. It is of 
 great use to correct the acidity and acerbity of other articles of 
 food. It should be used with tea, especially by the nervous, the 
 weakly, and sedentary, to prevent its deleterious effects. Loaf- 
 sugar, the finest of sugars, is frequently ordered by physicians, as a 
 nutritious substance ; and we have known individuals, who, like 
 Cassius, had a lean and hungry look, to correct their habits by the 
 use of sweet articles, and become corpulent and healthy. American 
 Traveller. 
 
 To prevent Horses being teased by Flies. 
 
 Take two or three small handfuls of walnut leaves, upon which 
 pour two or three quarts of cold water ; let it infuse .one night, and 
 IHIIII- the whole, next morning, into a kettle, and let it boil for a 
 quarter of an hour ; when cold it will be fit for use. No more is 
 required than to moisten a sponge, and before the horse goes out 
 of the stable, let those parts which are most irritable be smeared 
 over with the liquor, viz., between and upon the ears, the neck, the 
 flank, &c. Not only the lady or gentleman who rides out for 
 pleasure, will derive benefit from the walnut leaves thus prepared, 
 but the coachman, the wagoner, and all others who use horses 
 during the hot months. Farmer's Receipt Book.
 
 DOMESTIC RECEIPTS. 177 
 
 Liniment for the galled Backs of Horses. 
 
 White lead moistened with milk. When milk is not to be pro- 
 cured, oil may be substituted. " One or two ounces sufficed for a 
 whole party for more than a month." W. H. Keating. 
 
 Dots in Horses. 
 
 The* stage-drivers on their routes leading from Albany to the 
 western parts of the state of New York, in giving water to their 
 horses on the road, mix a little wood ashes with their drink, which, 
 they say, effectually preserves them against the bots. 
 
 Spruce Beer. 
 
 Take three gallons of water, of blood warmth, three half pints of 
 molasses, a table spoonful of essence of spruce, and the like quan- 
 tity of ginger ; mix well together, with a gill of yeast ; let stand over 
 night, and bottle in the morning. It will be in good condition to 
 drink in twenty-four hours. It is a palatable, wholesome beverage. 
 
 Flies. 
 
 The butchers of Geneva have, from time immemorial, prevented 
 flies from approaching the meat which they expose for sale, by the 
 use of laurel oil. This oil, the smell of which, although a little 
 strong, is not very offensive, drives away flies ; and they dare not 
 come near the walls or the wainscots which have been rubbed 
 with it. 
 
 Hay. 
 
 In Russia it is usual to preserve the natural verdure of hay. As 
 soon as the grass is cut, it is, without having been spread, formed 
 into a rick, iii the centre of which has been previously placed a 
 kind of chimney, made of four rough planks. It seems that the 
 heat of the fermentation evaporates by this chimney ; and that the 
 hay thus retains all its leaves, its color, and its primitive flavor. 
 
 Fattening Turkey*. 
 
 Experiments have been successfully tried of shutting up turkeys 
 in a small apartment, made perfectly dark. They were fattened, it 
 is said, in one quarter of the usual time. The reason assigned is, 
 that they are thus kept still, and have nothing to attract their 
 attention. 
 
 3M> 
 
 Easy Mode of edging Razors. 
 
 On the rough side of a strap of leather, or on an undressed calf- 
 skin binding of a book, rub a piece of tin, or common pewter spoon, 
 for half a minute, or until the leather becomes glossy with the metal. 
 If the razor be passed over this leather about half a dozen times, 
 it will acquire a finer edge than by any other method. Mechanics' 
 Magazine. 
 
 Blasting Rocks. 
 
 Saw-dust of soft wood, mixed with gunpowder in equal parts, is 
 said to have thrice the strength of gunpowder alone when used in 
 blasting.
 
 178 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 Cure for Founder. 
 
 "The seeds of sun-flower," says the Zanesville Gazette, "are the 
 best remedy known for the cure of founder in horses. Immediately 
 on discovering that your horse is foundered, mix about a pint of the 
 whole seed in his feed, and it will give a perfect cure." The seed 
 should be given as soon as it is discovered that the horse is foun- 
 dered. 
 
 Boil your Molasses. 
 
 When molasses is used in cooking, it is a very great improvement 
 to boil and skim it before you use it. It takes out the unpleasant 
 raw taste, and makes it almost as good as sugar. Where molasses 
 is used much for cooking, it is well to prepare one or two gallons in 
 this way at a time. 
 
 Candles. 
 
 Those who make candles will find it a great improvement to 
 steep the wicks in lime-water and saltpetre, and dry them. The 
 flame is clearer, and the tallow will not " run." 
 
 Pennsylvania Apple Butter. 
 
 To make this article according to German law, the host should, in 
 the autumn, invite his neighbors, particularly the young men and 
 maidens, to make up an apple butter party. Being assembled, let 
 three bushels of fair sweet apples be pared, quartered, and the cores 
 removed. Meanwhile, let two barrels of new cider be boiled down 
 to one half. When this is done, commit the prepared apples to the 
 cider, and henceforth let the boiling go on briskly and systematically. 
 But to accomplish the main design, the party must take turns at stir- 
 ring the contents without cessation, that they do not become attached 
 to the side of the kettle and be burned. Let the stirring go on till 
 the amalgamated cider and apples become as thick as hasty-pudding 
 then throw in seasoning of pulverized allspice, when it may be 
 considered as finished, and committed to pots for future use. This 
 is apple butter ; and it will keep sweet for very many years. And 
 depend upon it, it is a capital article for the table very much supe- 
 rior to any thing that comes under the name of apple-sauce. 
 (Jospel Banner. 
 
 Pies. 
 
 Apple pies may be made simple, palatable, and healthy, by sifting 
 coarse flour, and taking hot mealy potatoes, and rubbing them in as 
 you would butter; then take pearlash, and sour milk, or water, and 
 wet it, rolling the crust, if you please, in fine flour, if you wish to 
 give it a whiteness ; prepare your apple without butter or spice, with 
 sweetening, and a little oil of orange. Graham Journal. 
 
 Water Crackers. 
 
 Wheat meal, wet with nothing but water, and pulled apart with 
 the hand, or cut in pieces and rolled as thin as possible, and well 
 baked, makes the healthiest bread for the stomach that can be eaten.
 
 DOMESTIC RECEIPTS. 179 
 
 It is a good digester and palatable dessert. It acts like an absorbent, 
 when any thing like acid is in the stomach. Graham Journal. 
 
 Bread- Making. 
 
 For the sponge, take one quart of water, blood warm, or about 
 100 F ; add one tea-spoonful of salt, stir in coarse wheat meal till 
 it becomes a thick batter ; then, if it is kept at about a temperature of 
 80 or 90, it will ferment sufficiently in from four to six hours; or, if 
 prepared in the eVeniug, let it remain at about 60 till morning ; then 
 add two or three quarts of warm water, with a suitable proportion of 
 the wheat meal ; mould it in pans, and in about one hour it will rise 
 sufficiently for the oven. In this way, with proper care and expe- 
 rience, the best of bread may be made without any pearlash, yeast, 
 molasses, or milk. Some use a very little saleratus to prevent all 
 acidity in the bread ; but that had better be avoided by having the 
 dough in the oven before the fermentation proceeds too far. 
 Graham Journal. 
 
 Rice Custard. 
 
 Take two or three quarts of milk, and when boiling sift in a 
 coffee-cup of ground rice, taking care to stir it while sifting ; boil it 
 a few minutes, sweeten it with sugar, bake it in cups, let it stand till 
 it is cold, and it will make a custard as good as any one need de- 
 sire. It cannot be improved, either for the stomach or for the 
 palate, by the addition of eggs. If any thing is added to " give a 
 flavor," let it be a little of the essence of rose as a substitute for all 
 spices. Graham Journal. 
 
 Bird's- >'est Sago Padding. 
 
 Soak half a pint of sago in three pints of water, stirring it occa- 
 sionally until it is uniformly swelled. Pare and core ten or twelve 
 apples, fill the holes in the centre with sugar, and put them, without 
 piling them one over another, in a pudding-dish, of such size that 
 the sago will just cover them. The sago may then be poured on 
 and the pudding baked until the apples are soft. It may be made 
 thicker or thinner at pleasure, by using more or less sago. Graham 
 Journal. 
 
 This is one of the best kind of puddings in the world. Try it, 
 good friends, before you accuse the Grahamites with living on saw- 
 dust. 
 
 Wounds of Cattle. 
 
 The most aggrieved wounds of domestic animals are easily cured 
 with a portion of the yolk of eggs mixed in the spirit of turpentine. 
 The part affected must be bathed several times with the mixture, 
 when a perfect cure will be effected in forty-eight hours. 
 
 Exemption from Colds. 
 
 Perhaps the most fruitful particular source of consumption is the 
 habit of taking cold. We call it a habit, because we regard it as
 
 180 TIIE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 such entirely. We no more believe it necessary for people, did 
 they obey the laws of God throughout, to be perpetually suffering, 
 as many persons are, from cold, and withal laying the foundation of 
 other diseases still more troublesome, not to say dangerous and 
 fatal, than it is for them to have the small-pox, or the typhus 
 fever. 
 
 *- A large portion of our consumptive cases are either excited or 
 aggravated by colds. The philosophy of taking cold is but little 
 understood, and the causes of this frequent but unhappy complaint 
 for the most part overlooked. It is sufficient, perhaps, to say, that 
 whatever gives a permanent check to the natural perspiration, may 
 produce those effects which we call a coW, or, in the language of the 
 books, a catarrh. 
 
 This permanent check may be accomplished in several ways. It 
 may be induced by a large quantity of cold drink taken suddenly, 
 when we are debilitated by fatigue or excess of heat ; by currents 
 of cooler air falling upon the body, when in a very warm place and 
 inactive ; by similar currents falling upon a part of the body for 
 some time in a warm room, as when we sit by a raised or broken 
 window ; by going out of heated rooms, perhaps fatigued, into the 
 night air, especially without sufficient covering ; by the application 
 of cold, though it should not be inordinate, after we have been long 
 exposed to a high temperature ; and by cold itself, when continued 
 for a long time, as in travelling too long in a stage-coach during 
 cold weather, sleeping too cold during the night, sitting with wet 
 feet, &c. 
 
 To avoid taking cold, then, we must avoid these and the other 
 causes which lead to it. But we may do something more than 
 merely exert ourselves to prevent the exciting causes of cold ; we 
 may harden ourselves against its effects, so that these exciting causes 
 will not operate. To this end, we should be accustomed, from early 
 infancy, to much exposure in the open air, at all seasons. The 
 practice of daily sponging the chest with cold water, fresh or salt, is 
 also of great value, and should be adopted by all persons of deli- 
 cate constitutions, at all seasons of the year. Sponging the whole 
 body with cold water, in the early part of the day, particularly at 
 rising, when the practice is followed by warmth, increased strength, 
 and a keen appetite, is still better, as a means of hardening our- 
 selves, than local bathings. Cold, when so applied as to produce the 
 reaction we have just spoken of, is a powerful tonic to the whole 
 system ; and whatever in this way gives tone to the whole system, 
 goes so far towards preventing our taking cold, or suffering, in fact, 
 from disease of any kind. Labrary of Health. 
 
 To preserve Green Corn, &c. 
 
 Take green com, either on the ear, or carefully shelled, peas and 
 beans in pods, and dip them in i)oi:ing water, and then carefully dry 
 them in a room where there is a free circulation of air. Thus pre- 
 served, tlioy will keep until winter, and retain all their freshness and 
 agreeuble flavor.
 
 DOMESTIC RECEIPTS. 181 
 
 To core the Swelling of the Throat in Hogs. 
 
 Take of molasses one half pint, and a table spoonful of hog's 
 lard ; to this add of brimstone a piece an inch in length ; melt it over 
 the fire, and when cold, or in a liquid state, drench the hog with it ; 
 and nine times out of ten it will be found to have the desired effect. 
 Farmer's Register. 
 
 Soap Suds nsed for nourishing Flowers. 
 A fair correspondent says, "Recently I happened to gather a 
 beautiful violet, and when tired of admiring it, tossed the toy aside, 
 which, partly by accident, fell into a box full of soap-suds. The said 
 violet had neither joint nor root, and you may judge of my surprise, 
 when, at the end of a day or two, I found it growing. From this 
 time forward, I watched it narrowly, and now find, after the lapse 
 of a fortnight, a goodly plant, with several buds on it Thinking 
 water might produce the same effect, I placed a newly-cropped vi- 
 olet in water ; but it withered and died on so spare a diet. By way 
 of confirming the first experiment, I have since placed a slip of a 
 rose tree and a pink in suds ; and both are flourishing in great vigor, 
 in my dressing-room. Should this accidental discovery prove useful 
 to florists, it will afford me sincere pleasure." 
 
 Core for Hydrophobia. 
 
 Take a quantity of oyster-shells and burn them into lime, pulver- 
 ize the lime till it becomes an impalpable powder ; take three table 
 spoonfuls of this powder, and beat them up with three eggs ; fry 
 this in a common pan, with sweet oil, and let the patient eat the cake 
 when properly baked, in the morning, fasting, taking care to take 
 no victuals, nor the least liquid of any kind, for six hours after the 
 dose has been taken. Repeat this dose for three mornings succes- 
 sively. 
 
 This remedy has been used among the French Canadians for many 
 years ; it is prescribed frequently, and no instance of its failure is 
 known, unless in patients where fits had made their appearance, be- 
 fore the exhibition of the medicine. Canadian C&urant. 
 
 Camomile. 
 
 In the Irish Gardener's Magazine, it is stated, not only that decoc- 
 tions of the leaves of the common camomile, will destroy insects, 
 but that nothing contributes so much to the health of a garden, as 
 a number of camomile plants dispersed through it 
 
 French Cement. 
 
 Take as much lime as will make a pailfull of whitewash ; fill the 
 pail nearly full of water ; then put in two and a half pounds of brown 
 siiirar, and three pounds of fine salt Mix them well together. The 
 wash may be colored to suit the fancy. It is very durable, and recom- 
 mended for roofs of houses. 
 
 Used instead of paint, and, in a good degree, proof against fira 
 16 

 
 183 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 Floating on the Water. 
 
 Any human being who will have the presence of mind to clasp 
 the hands behind the back, and turn the face towards the zenith, may 
 float at ease, and in perfect safety, in tolerably still water ay, and 
 sleep there. If, not knowing how to swim, you would escape drown- 
 ing, when in deep water, you have only to consider yourself an 
 empty pitcher; let your mouth and nose be the highest part of you, 
 and you are safe. But thrust up one of your hands, and down you 
 go ; for turning up the handle tips over the pitcher. 
 
 Wood-House. 
 
 Wood, for family use, ought to be cut the winter before it is intended 
 to be used aa fuel, so that it may be thoroughly seasoned. The ad- 
 vantages derived from the use of well-seasoned and dry wood, over 
 that which is green or wet, are many, and the economy and pleas- 
 antness derived from its use cannot have escaped the most super- 
 ficial observer. When wet wood is used as fuel, it takes nearly one 
 half the heat produced by its combustion to carry off' the moisture 
 from it, and this would be accomplished with much more economy 
 by the air and sun, which cost nothing, before it was hauled to the 
 dwelling ; and in the removal of it, much animal force would be 
 saved. The expense or trouble of cutting it in advance, is nothing ; 
 but in some cases there would be a saving by it ; as 1 have frequently 
 known farmers driven to the necessity of leaving very urgent and 
 important business, and turn to and cut and haul green wood for im- 
 mediate use ; and a poor article it was, truly, as the good woman 
 could testify, when she attempted to cook the family dinner. 
 
 Green or wet wood makes much smoke, and the chimney often 
 rebels at being oppressed with it, and sends the excess, over what it 
 can properly discharge in the natural way, into the kitchen, or 
 parlor, as the case may be, to the great annoyance of the female 
 part of the family ; to the injury of furniture and walls ; and more 
 often spoils the cookery, to the great mortification and chagrin of 
 the industrious housewife, who, sometimes, under such trying cir- 
 cumstances, is tempted to scold ; and no wonder if she does. 
 
 Appurtenant to every farm-house, there should be a wood-house 
 or shed, in which should be constantly kept a sufficiency of wood, 
 cut and split in advance. The situation of this structure should be 
 such as to furnish convenient access to the female part of the family, 
 in all kinds of weather, with the least possible exposure ; and it 
 should be considered an incumbent duty of the head of the family 
 always to see that there is an adequate supply of dry wood, cut into 
 suitable lengths, so as to be properly adapted to all household pur- 
 poses, at all seasons of the year. 
 
 Those who have practised the foregoing system, know well there 
 is a great saving of time and expense in it, and that it adds much to 
 the comfort and convenience of a family, and causes the domestic 
 arrangements to proceed with more quietness and composure. 
 Farmer's Cabinet. 
 
 Cure for the Summer Complaint. 
 
 Six drops of laudanum to half a tumbler full of rice-water; half a 
 tumbler of the mixture to be taken every three or four hours. This
 
 DOMESTIC RECEIPTS. 183 
 
 (^ 
 
 simple remedy may be given to infants, children, or at any period 
 of life, and has never failed in giving immediate relief, and, if perse- 
 vered in for a few days, it invariably effects a cure, however violent 
 the disorder. 
 
 Cold Water for Children. 
 
 An eminent physician, in New York, says 
 
 " During the prevalence of hot weather, there is nothing so grate- 
 ful to infants as cold water ; these little creatures suffer equally with 
 adults from thirst, especially at night; yet, strange to say, the mother 
 either neglects or fears to offer it cold water. In my' practice, in 
 several instances, 1 have been called to see children laboring under 
 fever from the effects of thirst ; and, upon giving cold water, have 
 had the pleasure of seeing the child recover in a very short time, a 
 free perspiration following the use of this natural remedy. Real 
 thirst cannot be allayed by any thing as well as water. When a 
 child is feverish at night, it will, in a majority of cases, be cured by 
 freely sponging its face and limbs with tepid water, and allowing it 
 to drink cold water. Let parents, who have sickly children, (of any 
 age,) try this plan; if it does no good, it'will produce no evrt; but I 
 am certain it will arrest much suffering by a very simple and grate- 
 ful remedy." 
 
 Cure for Inflamed Eyes. 
 
 Pour boiling water on elder-flowers, and steep them like tea; 
 when cold, put three or four drops of laudanum into a small glass of 
 the elder-tea, and let the mixture run into the eyes three or four 
 times a day. The eyes will become perfectly strong in the course 
 of a week. 
 
 The Gravel. 
 
 Boil heavy red onions down with sugar, and make a thick sirup 
 of it ; drink as much of it as you please daily. It is said to cure the 
 gravel and stone. 
 
 To cure Corns. 
 
 Scrape the corn so as to nearly cause it to bleed ; apply a salve, 
 composed of calomel and lard ; renew the application three or four 
 times a week ; keep the feet clean, and wear loose shoes. 
 
 Remedy for Fever and Ague. 
 
 Take one ounce of yellow Peruvian bark, one fourth ounce of 
 cream tartar, one table spoonful of pulverized cloves, and one pint 
 of Teneriffe wine ; mix together and shake it well. Take a wine- 
 glass full every two hours, after the fever is off. 
 
 Before taking the above, a dose of Epsom salts, or other medicine, 
 should be administered, to clease the stomach, and render the cure 
 more speedy and certain. 
 
 Sting of the Bee. 
 
 Common whiting proves an effectual remedy against the effects 
 of the sting of a bee" or wasp. The whiting is to be moistened
 
 184 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 with cold water, and immediately applied. It may be washed off in 
 a few minutes, when neither pain nor swelling will ensue. French 
 paper. 
 
 Preserved Pumpkin. 
 
 Stew your pumpkin as usual for pies, spread it thinly upon large, 
 open tins or platters, and place them under or over your stove ; 
 where, if kept four or five days, it will be dry enough to keep in 
 bags or boxes throughout the year. Pumpkin, preserved in this 
 way, is far superior to that preserved in the old method of drying, 
 making much richer and better-flavored pies, besides requiring much 
 less labor. 
 
 Cure for Cancer. 
 
 Mr. Thomas Tyrrell, of Missouri, says he has effectually cured 
 himself of an obstinate cancer, " by the free use of potash, made 
 from the ashes of red oak, boiled to the consistence of molasses, 
 used as a poultice, covering the whole with a coat of tar. Two or 
 three applications will remove all protuberances, after which it is 
 only necessary to heal the wound with common salve." 
 
 Advantages of Cookery. 
 
 "Water, in certain combinations with vegetable substances, may 
 be considered as converted into a nutritious, and sometimes solid 
 food. Every one is aware that a quantity of maize meal, or rice, or 
 any farinaceous substance, will afford much more nutriment when 
 boiled, than a much greater quantity in an uncooked state. 
 
 " Count Rumford states, in his essays, that for each pound of In- 
 dian meal employed in making a pudding, we may expect three 
 pounds nine ounces of the pudding; and he says again, that three 
 pounds of Indian meal, three fourths of a pound of molasses, and one 
 ounce of salt, (in all, three pounds thirteen ounces of solid material,) 
 having been mixed with five pints of boiling water, and boiled six 
 hours, produced a pudding which weighed ten pounds and one 
 ounce. 
 
 " The gain of weight in rice is more considerable than that of 
 Indian or maize meal ; but in either it is so great as to demonstrate 
 most conclusively, the advantages of cooking ; for experiments show 
 that the gain in nutritive power of the cooked food is at least equal 
 to the gain in weight. 
 
 "In cooking food, such as the grains or potatoes, it is clear the 
 water combines with the farinaceous matter in boiling, adding 
 decisively to its weight. Every housewife can, if she will take the 
 trouble to weigh the ingredients used in making a pudding of Indian 
 meal, satisfy herself of this increase in weight ; and, by observing 
 its effect as food, test the value of the cooked material over the un- 
 cooked or uncombined." Genesee Farmer. 
 
 Barley Flour. 
 
 The Geneva Gazette says " Flour made from barley ia 
 much used as an article of diet. It makes the finest of cakes,
 
 DOMESTIC RECEIPTS. 185 
 
 and, when prepared in like manner, is by many preferred to buck- 
 wheat. Farmers are making the same discovery in regard to this 
 grain that they have with regard to apples. Apples are now con- 
 sidered quite as valuable as potatoes to fatten hogs ; and barley, 
 ground, is a most valuable food for all description of stock." 
 
 To the foregoing juuicious remarks we would add that, take one 
 year with another, more bushels of barley can be raised on an acre, 
 than of corn, and at a much less expense ; and that for food and 
 stock, it is a more economical crop. Another vastly important con- 
 sideration is, that it comes in before the autumnal frosts have an 
 opportunity to cut it off. We should be sorry to see corn wholly 
 abandoned, but every year's experience shows the expediency of 
 relying less on it, and of substituting for it barley, potatoes, and 
 root crops. Ontario Repository. 
 
 Tincture of Roses. 
 
 Take the leaves of the common rose, place them, without press- 
 ing, in a bottle, pour some good spirits of wine upon them, close 
 the bottle, and let it stand until it is required for use. This tincture 
 will keep for years, and yield a purfume little inferior to otter of 
 roses ; a few drops of it will suffice to impregnate the atmosphere 
 of a room with a delicious odor. Common vinegar is greatly im- 
 proved by a very small quantity being added to it. 
 
 To drive Bags from Tines. 
 
 The ravage of the yellow-striped bug on cucumbers and melons 
 may be effectually prevented by sifting charcoal dust over the plants. 
 If repeated two or three times, the plants will be entirely free from 
 annoyance. There is in charcoal some properties so obnoxious to 
 these troublesome insects, that they fly from it the instant it is 
 applied. 
 
 Mullein vs. Mice. 
 
 The common mullein, (verbascum,) after beitag properly cleared of 
 the adhering earth and other impurities, is extensively used in Ger- 
 man granaries, roots, stocks, and flowers, in order to prevent the 
 depredations of mice, and it affords a complete protection against 
 these vermin. Bundles of it are placed in every corner and on the 
 grain itself. 
 
 Wholesome Drink for warm Weather. 
 
 Take a two gallon stone jug, and fill it with cold water. Put into 
 this water a quart of oatmeal, and shake it well. In half an hour it 
 will furnish a pleasant, nutritious and excellent beverage. We 
 know a farmer, who cuts ordinarily one hundred tons of hay. This 
 is the only drink in the field for himself and his hands. JVeu>- 
 England Farmer. 
 
 Itching Feet, or Chilblains, 
 
 May be relieved by rubbing them with a mixture of seven parts 
 water and one part muriatic acid, for a few nights, before going 
 to bed. 
 
 16*
 
 186 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 Cure for a Wen. 
 
 The following has proved to be effectual. Make a very strong brine, 
 and dip in a piece of flannel two or three times doubled, and apply 
 it to the wen, keep it constantly wet, night and day, until a sup- 
 puration takes place. 
 
 For Sprains and Bruises. 
 
 Mix equal parts of beef-gall and vinegar ; apply it often to the 
 part injured, and dry it by the fire. 
 
 Preserving Eggs. 
 
 In 1820, a tradesman at Paris asked permission of the prefect of 
 the police to sell, in the market, eggs that had been preserved a 
 year, in a composition, of which he kept the secret. More than 
 thirty thousand of these eggs were sold in open market without any 
 complaint being made, or any notice taken of them, when the board 
 of health thought proper to examine them. They were found to 
 be perfectly fresh, and could only be distinguished from others, by 
 a pulverous stratum of carbonate of lime, remarked by M. Cadet to 
 be on the egg-shell. This induced him to make a series of exper- 
 iments, which ended in his discovering that they were preserved 
 in a highly-saturated muriate of lime-water. They may also be 
 preserved by immersing them twenty seconds in boiling water, and 
 then keeping them well dried in fine-sifted ashes ; but this will give 
 them a grayish-green color. The method of preserving them in 
 lime-water has long been the practice in Italy. They may be kept 
 thus for two years. 
 
 To prevent Toothache, Agues, and Sore Throat. 
 
 Wash the back part of your head and neck every morning in cold 
 water, the colder the better, and afterwards rub it dry with a 
 towel, and you will seldom, perhaps never, be troubled with a pain- 
 ful affection of the teeth or throat 
 
 Warts, &c. 
 
 The bark of the common willow burnt to ashes, mixed with strong 
 vinegar, and applied to the parts, will remove all warts, corns, and 
 other excrescences. 
 
 Peach Trees. 
 
 Marl put round the trunks of peach trees say a bushel, or half that 
 measure, to each tree protects them from the attacks of worms, pre- 
 serves the trees in health, continues them in life beyond the time of 
 their ordinary existence, promotes the growth of the fruit to almost 
 double its former size, and increases the richness of its flavor in like 
 proportion. Salem (A*. /.) Banner. 
 
 Soiling Milch Cows. 
 
 The Zoarites, a religious sect of Germans, on the Muskingum 
 River, in Ohio, keep their milch cows constantly in the stall, and feed 
 them with the offal of the milk, hay, roots, &c. ; and they are said
 
 DOMESTIC RECEIPTS. 187 
 
 to yield an extraordinary quantity of milk some twenty quarts a 
 day, through the year. They also pay particular attention to their 
 cleanliness. Their stalls are thoroughly washed daily, and the water 
 used for this purpose is carefully collected in reservoirs, and applied, 
 in the form of liquid manure, to their hot-houses and gardens. 
 
 In a late communication to the British Board of Agriculture, it is 
 stated that thirty cows, one bull, four calves, and five horses, were 
 fed through the summer from fifteen acres of clover, sown the pre- 
 ceding year. The labor of two men and two women was sufficient 
 to tend them ; and the net produce of the season, in butter, from June 
 to October, was nearly $90 from each cow. Silk Cultivator. 
 
 Cooks. 
 
 One of the most useful creatures in existence is a good cook; one 
 who, with an onion, a spoonful of butter, and a bone, will find out a 
 better dish than some can make with a haunch of venison, and 
 " means and appliances to boot." A good cook, especially if he be 
 cleanly, should be treated with peculiar respect and consideration ; 
 and if Paganini AVBS permitted to " fiddle himself into a title of no- 
 bility," the former should be allowed to cook himself an earldom, at 
 the state's cost. 
 
 Bearing of Apple Trees. 
 
 A horticulturist in Bohemia has a beautiful plantation of the best 
 sort of apple trees, which have neither sprung from seeds nor graft- 
 ing. His plan is to take shoots from the choicest sorts, insert them 
 in a potato, and plunge both into the ground, leaving but an inch or 
 two of the shoot above the surface. The potato nourishes the shoot 
 whilst it pushes out roots, and the shoot gradually springs up and 
 becomes a beautiful tree, bearing the best of fruit, without requiring 
 to be grafted. 
 
 Bread. 
 
 Among all civilized nations, bread constitutes the staple article in 
 the food of man. It has been aptly termed the staff of life ; but in 
 order that it may prove a staff, substantial and pleasant, and not a 
 " broken reed," it is all-important that it be good ; that is, light, sweet, 
 sufficiently baked, and never eaten until a day or two old. 
 
 " The grand secret and mystery of havfng the bread come out of 
 the oven delicious, inviting, and nutritive," says an instructive writer, 
 "is the exact point of time of putting it in. While in the state of 
 dough, it will readily run into various stages of fermentation. The 
 first of these is the saccharine, or that which produces sugar; the 
 next is the vinous ; the third, the acetous, or that producing vinegar, 
 &c. If the dough be formed into loaves, and placed in the oven 
 before the first fermentation has taken place, the bread will turn out 
 heavy ; and whoever eats it may rest assured of the nightmare, and 
 various other ' ills that flesh is heir to.' If it be kept from the oven 
 till the second fermentation, it will prove light enough, but tasteless, 
 and little better than the same quantity of saw-dust. If it be delayed 
 until the acetous fermentation has occurred, it comes out sour, and
 
 188 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 altogether uneatable. It is, then, during the first or saccharine fer- 
 mentation, that it should be cast into the oven ; and it will then, if 
 sufficiently baked, be found a sweet and wholesome food. 
 
 " That bread should be without sweetness, when allowed to run 
 into the vinous fermentation, is very easily explained ; the sac- 
 charine matter produced by the first fermentation being converted 
 into a vinous spirit, which is driven off by evaporation during the 
 process of baking. This kind of bread may be easily distinguished 
 without tasting, by its loose, open appearance, the pores or cells 
 being very large ; whereas, really good bread is marked by fine 
 pores, and a sort of net- work of a uniform appearance." 
 
 Cure for Quinsy. 
 
 Simmer hops in vinegar a few minutes, until their strength is ex- 
 tracted ; strain the liquid, sweeten it with sugar, and give it frequently 
 to the child or patient, in small quantities, until relieved. This is 
 said to be an excellent medicine. 
 
 The Tomato, or Love Apple. 
 
 This plant belongs to the same genus with the potato and egg- 
 plant. It was originally brought from South America, but is now 
 cultivated in many parts of the globe, for the sake of its large, vari- 
 ously-shaped, scarlet or orange fruit, which many esteem a great 
 luxury. These are used in sauces, stewing, and soups, and, when 
 boiled and seasoned with pepper and salt, make an excellent sauce 
 for fish, meat, &c. In warmer climates, they possess more acidity 
 and briskness, and are therefore more grateful to the palate. The 
 plant is a tender, herbaceous annual, of rank growth, weak, decum- 
 bent, fetid, glutinous, and downy ; the leaves somewhat resemble 
 those of the potato, but the flowers are yellow, and disposed in 
 large, divided bunches ; the fruit is pendulous, shining, and very 
 ornamental. 
 
 A medical professor, in one of our western colleges, speaks warmly 
 in favor of the virtues of the tomato. He says, " that in all those 
 affections of the liver, and other organs, where calomel is indicated, 
 it is, probably, the most effective and least harmful remedial agent 
 known to the profession ; that a chemical extract will, probably, 
 soon be obtained from it, which will altogether supersede the use of 
 calomel in the cure of disease ; that he has successfully treated 
 serious diarrhrea with this article alone ; that, when used as an 
 article of diet, it is almost a sovereign remedy for dyspepsia or indi- 
 gestion ; that persons removing from the east or north to the west 
 or south, should by all means make use of it as an aliment, as it 
 would, in that event, save them from the danger attendant upon those 
 violent bilious attacks to which almost all unacclimated persons are 
 liable ; and that the citizens in general should make use of it, either 
 raw, cooked, or in form of a catsup, with their daily food, as it is the 
 most healthy article of the materia alimentaria" 
 
 Tripe. 
 
 The following is the method by which this very valuable and 
 highly palatable part of the beef is prepared. After it is taken from
 
 DOMESTIC RECEIPTS. 189 
 
 the creature, make an incision of about eighteen inches, through 
 which turn out the contents, with care to keep the outside clean ; 
 then turn it inside out, and sew up this opening perfectly tight ; 
 rinse off the remaining impurities in warm water, and put it into an 
 empty tub; after which, take two quarts of air or dry slaked lime, 
 which rub over it with the hands, the hands being previously greased 
 to prevent the lime from corroding them. Add about three quarts 
 of warm water, in which let it remain from fifteen to twenty minutes. 
 Then with a knife scrape it while in the tub, and the inner pellicle 
 or skin, together with the remaining filth, will readily peel off, and 
 leave the tripe perfectly white and pure. Wash and rinse off all 
 impurities ; after which, cut it into convenient slices to boil : then 
 put it to soak in cold water, with the addition of a little salt, in which 
 let it remain twenty-four hours, changing the water three or four 
 times. It has now become free from all external impurities ; and 
 that strong, rank taste, which in the ordinary process is retained, is 
 now extracted, and it is left perfectly sweet. 
 
 Process of Cooking. Boil it until it is tender ; then cut it into 
 small pieces, add butter to it, warm it again, not so as to fry it, and 
 it is one of the most delicious and wholesome kinds of meat on the 
 table. 
 
 Composition for a Cement. 
 
 Take half a pint of milk, and mix with it an equal quantity of 
 vinegar, so as to coagulate the milk ; separate the curds from the 
 whey, and mix the latter with the whites of four or five eggs, after 
 beating them well up. The mixture of these two substances being 
 complete, add sifted quick lime ; and make the whole into a thick 
 paste of the consistence of putty. If this mastic is carefully ap- 
 plied to broken bodies or fissures of any kind, and dried properly, 
 it resists water and fire. 
 
 Cure for the Whooping Cough. 
 
 A tea-spoonfull of castor oil, to a tea-spoonfull of molasses ; a 
 tea-spoonfull of the mixture to be given whenever the cough is 
 troublesome. It will afford relief at once, and in a few days it 
 effects a cure. The same medicine relieves the croup, however 
 violent the attack. National Intelligencer. 
 
 Core for Cough iu Horses. 
 
 Take half a pound of nitre, quarter of a pound of black regulus 
 of antimony, and two ounces of antimony ; mix them well in a 
 mortar and make it up into doses of one ounce each. Give the 
 horse one dose in a cold mash mixed every night in mild weather, 
 for three nights ; then omit it for a week. If he does not get better 
 of his cough, repeat it. 
 
 Care is necessary that the animal should not be exposed, while 
 warm, to stand in a cold wind ; otherwise exercise him gently, and 
 heat him as usual.
 
 190 
 
 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 TABLE, 
 
 Exhibiting the Seats of Government, the Times of Holding the Election of 
 State Officers, the Times of the Meeting of the Legislatures of the several 
 States, and the Salaries of Governors. 
 
 Stalls. 
 
 Seats of Government. 
 
 Times of 
 Holding Elections. 
 
 Times of Oie 
 Meeting of the Legislatures. 
 
 Gov't. 
 
 Salary. 
 
 Maine, 
 
 Augusta, 
 
 2d Monday in Sept. 
 
 1st Wednesday in Jan. 
 
 1,500 
 
 N. Hampshire, 
 
 Joncord, 
 
 2d Tnes. in March, 
 
 1st Wednesday in June. 
 
 1,200 
 
 Vermont, 
 
 Montpelier, 
 
 1st Tuesday in Sept. 
 
 2cl Thursday in October. 
 
 750 
 
 Massachusetts, 
 
 Boston, 
 
 2d Monday in Nov. 
 
 1st Wednesday in Jan. 
 
 3,66G| 
 
 Rhode Island, 
 
 ( Providence, 
 [and Newport, 
 
 Gov. & Sen. in Apr. 
 Rep. in Apr. & Aug. 
 
 1st Wed. in May & June, 
 last Wed. in Oct. & Jan. 
 
 I 400 
 
 Connecticut, 
 
 Hart. & N. Haven, 
 
 1st Monday in April, 
 
 1st Wednesday in May, 
 
 1,100 
 
 New York, 
 
 Albany, 
 
 1st Monday in Nov. 
 
 1st Thursday in January. 
 
 4,000 
 
 New Jersey, 
 
 Trenton, 
 
 2d Tuesday in Oct. 
 
 4th Tuesday in October. 
 
 2,000 
 
 Pennsylvania, 
 
 Harrisburg, 
 
 3d Tuesday in Oct. 
 
 1st Tuesday in January. 
 
 4,000 
 
 Delaware, 
 
 Dover, 
 
 2d Tuesday in Nov. 
 
 1st Tues. in Jan. bienn. 
 
 1,333^ 
 
 Maryland, 
 
 Annapolis, 
 
 1st Wedn. in Oct. 
 
 last Monday in Dec. 
 
 4,200 
 
 Virginia, 
 
 Richmond, 
 
 4th Thurs. in April, 
 
 1st Monday in Dec. 
 
 3,333J 
 
 North Carolina, 
 
 Raleigh, 
 
 Commonly in Aug. 
 
 2d Mon. in Nov. bienn. 
 
 2,000 
 
 SoutJi Carolina, 
 
 Columbia, 
 
 3d Monday in Oct. 
 
 4th Monday in Nov. 
 
 3,500 
 
 Georgia, 
 
 Milledgeville, 
 
 1st Monday in Oct. 
 
 1st Monday in Nov. 
 
 4,000 
 
 Akthama, 
 
 Tuscaloosa, 
 
 1st Monday in Aug. 
 
 1st Monday in Dec. 
 
 3,500 
 
 Mississippi, 
 
 Jackson, 
 
 1st Mo. & Tue. Nov. 
 
 1st Mon. in Jan. bienn. 
 
 3,000 
 
 Louisiana, 
 
 New Orleans, 
 
 1st Monday in July, 
 
 1st Monday in January. 
 
 7,500 
 
 Tennessee, 
 
 Nashville, 
 
 1st Thurs. in Aug. 
 
 1st Mon. in Oct. bienn. 
 
 2,000 
 
 Kentucky, 
 
 Frankfort, 
 
 1st Monday in Aug. 
 
 1st Monday in Dec. 
 
 2,500 
 
 Ohio, 
 
 Columbus, 
 
 2d Tuesday in Oct. 
 
 1st Monday in Dec. 
 
 1,500 
 
 Indiana. 
 
 Indianapolis, 
 
 1st Monday in Aug. 
 
 1st Monday in Dec. 
 
 1,500 
 
 Illinois, 
 
 Springfield, 
 
 1st Monday in Aug. 
 
 1st Mon. in Dec. bienn. 
 
 1,000 
 
 Missouri, 
 
 Jefferson City, 
 
 1st Monday in Aug. 
 
 1st Mon. in Nov. bienn. 
 
 1,500 
 
 Michigan, 
 
 Detroit, 
 
 1st Monday in Oct. 
 
 1st Monday in January. 
 
 2,000 
 
 Arkansas, 
 
 Little Rock, 
 
 1st Monday in Oct. 
 
 2d Mon. in Oct. bienn. 
 
 2,000 
 
 TABLE, 
 
 Exhibiting the Number of Senators and Representatives in the several States, 
 their per diem Pay, and Terms of Service. 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
 ti 
 
 II 
 
 i 
 
 4 
 
 II 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 44 
 
 II 
 
 1 
 
 srf 
 
 II 
 
 i 
 
 M". 
 
 25 
 
 1 
 
 $2 
 
 187 
 
 1 
 
 $2 
 
 S. C. 
 
 45 
 
 2 
 
 $4 
 
 124 
 
 2 
 
 $4 
 
 N. H. 
 
 12 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 234 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 Ga. 
 
 93 
 
 1 
 
 4 
 
 207 
 
 1 
 
 4 
 
 Vt. 
 
 30 
 
 1 
 
 1 50 
 
 233 
 
 1 
 
 1 50 
 
 Aa. 
 
 33 
 
 1 
 
 4 
 
 100 
 
 1 
 
 4 
 
 Ms. 
 
 40 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 508 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 Ml. 
 
 30 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 91 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 R. t. 
 
 10 
 
 i 
 
 1 50 
 
 72 
 
 l 
 
 1 50 
 
 La. 
 
 17 
 
 2 
 
 4 
 
 50 
 
 2 
 
 4 
 
 Ct. 
 
 21 
 
 I 
 
 2 
 
 208 
 
 1 
 
 1 50 
 
 To. 
 
 25 
 
 2 
 
 4 
 
 75 
 
 2 
 
 4 
 
 N. Y. 
 
 32 
 
 ] 
 
 3 
 
 128 
 
 1 
 
 3 
 
 Ky. 
 
 38 
 
 1 
 
 3 
 
 100 
 
 1 
 
 3 
 
 N. J. 
 
 14 
 
 1 
 
 3 
 
 50 
 
 1 
 
 3 
 
 0. 
 
 30 
 
 1 
 
 3 
 
 72 
 
 1 
 
 3 
 
 Pa. 
 
 33 
 
 1 
 
 3 
 
 100 
 
 ] 
 
 3 
 
 la. 
 
 30 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 62 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 De. 
 
 9 
 
 2 
 
 2 50 
 
 21 
 
 2 
 
 2 50 
 
 la. 
 
 40 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 91 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 Mil. 
 
 21 
 
 1 
 
 4 
 
 79 
 
 1 
 
 4 
 
 Mo. 
 
 16 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 49 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 Va. 
 
 32 
 
 1 
 
 4 
 
 134 
 
 1 
 
 4 
 
 Mn. 
 
 16 
 
 1 
 
 150 
 
 50 
 
 1 
 
 1 50 
 
 N. C. 
 
 50 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 120 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 As. 
 
 17 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 54 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 Note. The number of representatives, in many of the states, varies from year to year. 
 The table contains the average or common number.
 
 GOVERNMENT OP THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 191 
 
 GOVERNMENT OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 Presidents of the Congress of the United States, prior to the Adoption of 
 the present Constitution. 
 
 Elected. 
 
 Born. 
 
 Died. 
 
 Peyton Randolph, 
 Henry Middleton, 
 
 . . Va 
 
 . . s. c 
 
 , . Va 
 
 . . Sept. 1774, 
 . . Oct. 1774. 
 . . May 1775 
 
 . 1723, 
 . 1723 
 
 ,1775. 
 1775. 
 
 John Hancock, 
 Henry Laurens, 
 John Jay, 
 Samuel Huntington, 
 Thomas M'Kean, 
 
 , . Ms 
 . . S. C 
 . . N. Y 
 , . Ct 
 . . De 
 
 . . May, 1775, 
 . . Nov. 1777, 
 . . Dec. 1778, 
 . . Sept. 1779, 
 . . July, 1781, 
 
 . 1737, 
 . 1723, 
 . 1745, 
 . 1733 , 
 . 1734, . . . . , 
 
 . 1793. 
 . 1792. 
 , 1784. 
 , 1796. 
 , 1817. 
 
 John Hanson, 
 Elias Boudinot, 
 Thomas Mifflin, 
 
 , . Md 
 . . N. J 
 , . Pa 
 
 . . Nov. 1781, 
 . . Nov. 1782, 
 . . Nov. 1783, 
 
 ! 1739, '.'.'.'., 
 . 1744, 
 
 1783. 
 1821. 
 , 1800. 
 
 Richard Henry Lee, 
 Nathaniel Gorham, 
 Arthur St. Clair, 
 Cvrus Griffin. . 
 
 . . Va 
 , . Ms 
 . . Pa 
 , . Va. . 
 
 . . Nov. 1786, 
 . . June, 1786, 
 . . Feb. 1787, 
 . . Jan. 1788. . . 
 
 . 1732, 
 . 1738, 
 . 1734, 
 . 1748. . , 
 
 1794. 
 1796. 
 1818. 
 1810. 
 
 The first Continental Congress assembled at Philadelphia on the 
 5th of September, 1774 ; and the first Congress under the Constitution 
 met in New York on the 3d of March, 1789. 
 
 Presidents of the United States, Vice Presidents, Heads of the several 
 Departments, and Speakers of the House of Representatives, from 1789 
 to 1840. 
 
 First Administration ; 1789 to 1797; 8 years. 
 
 Name*. 
 
 From. 
 
 Office*. 
 
 Born. 
 
 Died. 
 
 GEORGE WASHINGTON, 
 John Adams, 
 Thomas Jefferson, 
 Edmund Randolph, 
 
 Va. 
 Ms. 
 
 Va. 
 Va. 
 
 President, 
 Vice President, 
 
 ( Secretaries of S 
 
 Feb. 22, 1732, 
 Oct. 30, 1735, 
 April 2, 1743, 
 
 Dec. 14, \ljji 
 July 4, 18. 
 July 4, 1826. 
 Sept 12 1813 
 
 Timoihy Pickering, 
 Alexander Hamilton. 
 
 Ms. 
 N. Y. 
 
 C State, J 
 ) Secretaries of ( 
 
 July 17, 1745, 
 1757 
 
 Jan. 29, 1829. 
 July 11 1801 
 
 Oliver Wolcott, 
 
 Ct. 
 
 ) the Treasury, ( 
 
 1759, 
 
 June 1 1833. 
 
 Henry Knox, 
 
 Ms. 
 
 
 1750, 
 
 1806. 
 
 Timothy Pickering, 
 James M'Henry, 
 Samuel Osgood. 
 
 Ms. 
 
 Md. 
 Ms. 
 
 f Secretaries of S 
 C War, } 
 
 July 17, 1745, 
 1748, 
 
 Jan. 29, 1829. 
 Aug. 12, MH3. 
 
 Timoihy Pickering, 
 .lo<rph Rabenbvm, 
 Edmund Randolph, 
 
 Ms. 
 
 Ga. 
 
 Va. 
 
 I Post Masters S 
 C General, i 
 
 July 17, I74J, 
 1750, 
 
 Jan. 29, 1829. 
 1815. 
 Sept. 12, 1813. 
 
 William Bradford, 
 Charles Lee, 
 F. A. Muhlenberg, 
 Jonathan Trumbull, 
 Jonathan Dayton, 
 
 Pa. 
 
 Va. 
 Pa. 
 
 Ct. 
 
 N. J. 
 
 f Attorneys S 
 C General, J 
 
 ~) Speakers of C 
 > House of < 
 } Reps. C 
 
 . . 1756, 
 1757, 
 
 1740, 
 
 Aug. . . 1795. 
 1815. 
 
 1809.
 
 192 
 
 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 Second Administration; 1797 to 1801; 4 years. 
 
 ffeMtt. 
 
 From. 
 
 Offices. 
 
 Born. 
 
 Dud. 
 
 JOHN ADAMS, 
 Thomas Jefterson, 
 Timothy Pickering, 
 John Marshall, 
 Oliver Wolcott 
 
 Ms. 
 Va. 
 Ms. 
 Va. 
 
 Ct 
 
 President, 
 Vice Preside.nt, 
 ) Secretaries of ( 
 ( State, I 
 
 Oct. 30, 1735, 
 April 2, 1743, 
 July 17, 1745, 
 Sept. 24, 1755, 
 1759, 
 
 July 4, 1826. 
 July 4, 1826. 
 Jan. 29, 1829. 
 July 6, 1836. 
 June 1, 1833. 
 
 Samuel Dexter, 
 James M'Henry, 
 Samuel Dexter 
 
 Ms. 
 Md. 
 
 Ms 
 
 ) the Treasury, ( 
 f Secretaries of S 
 
 1761, 
 1761, 
 
 1816. 
 1816. 
 
 Roger Griswold, 
 
 Ct. 
 Ms. 
 
 C War, J 
 
 1762, 
 1751, 
 
 1812. 
 April 18, 1823. 
 
 Benjamin Stoddert, 
 Joseph Habersham, 
 
 Md. 
 Ga. 
 
 $ the Navy, ( 
 P. M. General. 
 
 1750, 
 
 . . 1815. 
 
 Charles Lee, 
 Jonathan Dayton, 
 Theodore Sedgwick, 
 
 Va. 
 N. J. 
 Ms. 
 
 Attorney General, 
 ) Speakers of ( 
 5 House Reps. ( 
 
 1757, 
 
 May, . . . 1746, 
 
 1815. 
 Jan. 24, 1813. 
 
 Third Administration ; 1801 to 1809; 8 years. 
 
 Nam**. 
 
 From. 
 
 Offices. 
 
 Bom. 
 
 Died. 
 
 THOMAS JEFFERSON, 
 Aaron Burr, 
 George Clinton, 
 James Madison, 
 Samuel Dexter, 
 Albert Gallatin, 
 Henry Dearborn, 
 Benjamin Stoddert, 
 Robert Smith, 
 Joseph Habersham, 
 Gideon Granger, 
 Levi Lincoln, 
 John Brcckenridge, 
 Capsar A. Rodney, 
 Nathaniel Macon, 
 Joseph B. Varnum, 
 
 Va. 
 N. Y. 
 N. Y. 
 Va. 
 Ms. 
 Pa. 
 Ms. 
 Md. 
 Md. 
 Ga. 
 Ct. 
 Ms. 
 Ky. 
 De. 
 N. C. 
 Ms. 
 
 President, 
 ) Vice ( 
 Presidents, 
 Secretary of State, 
 ) Secretaries of ( 
 \> the Treasury, ( 
 Secretary of War, 
 Secretaries of ( 
 the Navy. ( 
 Post Masters^ 
 General, f 
 
 ( Attorneys S 
 C General, f 
 
 ) Speakers of 5 
 ) House Reps. ( 
 
 April 2, 1743, 
 Feb. 6, 1756. 
 1740' 
 
 July 4, 1826. 
 Sept. 14, 1836. 
 April 20, 1812. 
 June 28, 1837. 
 1816. 
 
 1829. 
 
 Mar. 16. 175L 
 1761, 
 
 1751, 
 
 1750, 
 1767, 
 1749 
 
 1815. 
 1822. 
 1820. 
 
 
 1806. 
 
 1758, 
 
 Jan. 29,1837. 
 1821. 
 
 1750, 
 
 Fourth Administration ; 1809 to 1817; 8 years. 
 
 Names. 
 
 JVom. 
 
 Office*. 
 
 Born. 
 
 Died. 
 
 JAMES MADISON, 
 
 Va. 
 N Y. 
 
 President, 
 
 Mar. 16, 1751, 
 1740, 
 
 June 28, 1837. 
 April 20, 1812. 
 
 l-'lbridge Gerry, 
 Robert Smith, 
 James Monroe, 
 Albert Gallatin, 
 George W. Campbell, 
 Alexander J. Dallas, 
 William Eustis 
 
 Ms. 
 Md. 
 Va. 
 Pa. 
 Te. 
 Pa. 
 Ms. 
 
 Presidents, ? 
 Secretaries of \ 
 State, ( 
 
 ? Secretaries of S 
 C the Treasury, i 
 
 )( 
 
 1744, 
 April 28, 1759, 
 
 1760, 
 1754, 
 
 ...... 1814. 
 July 4, 1831. 
 
 1817. 
 1826. 
 
 John Armstrong, 
 James Monroe, 
 William H. Crawford. 
 
 N. Y. 
 Va. 
 Oa. 
 
 Secretaries of] 
 War, '1 
 
 April 28, 1759, 
 
 July 4, 1831. 
 . . 1834.. 
 
 * Mr. Cabot declined the appointment.
 
 GOVERNMENT OF THE li.MTED STATES. 
 
 193 
 
 Namet. 
 
 Frotn. 
 
 OJice. 
 
 Born. 
 
 Died. 
 
 Paul Hamilton 
 
 S C. 
 
 -X f 
 
 
 1816 
 
 William Jones, 
 B. W. Cro\vningshield, 
 Gideon Granger, 
 Return J. Mci^s, 
 
 Pa. 
 .Ms. 
 Ct. 
 O. 
 
 / Secretaries of \ 
 (T the Navy, i 
 
 ) Post Masters C 
 \ General, / 
 
 V. 1767, 
 
 1822. 
 1825 
 
 Caesar A. Rodney, 
 
 William Pinknev, 
 
 De. 
 
 Aid. 
 
 ? Attorneys S 
 
 1764, 
 
 
 
 Richard Rush, 
 Joseph B. Varuum, 
 Henry Clay, 
 Langdon Cheves, 
 
 Pa. 
 .Ms. 
 
 Ky. 
 
 S. C. 
 
 C General, j . 
 
 S Speakers of ? 
 *> House of < 
 ) Reps. C 
 
 1750, 
 
 April 12. 177?: 
 
 1821. 
 
 Fifth Administration; 1817 to 1825; 8 years. 
 
 Namet. 
 
 From. 
 
 Office. 
 
 Born. 
 
 Dud. 
 
 MONROE, 
 Daniel D. Tompkins, 
 John Quincy Adams, 
 William H. Crawford, 
 IsaaeShelbv* 
 JohrrC. Calhoun, 
 11. \V. < 'nmniushield, 
 Smith Thompson, 
 Samuel L. Soutiiard, 
 Return J. Meigs, 
 John .M'Lean, 
 Rirhard Rush, 
 William Wirt, 
 Jlc-iirv Clay, 
 John'W. Taylor, 
 Philip P. Barbour, 
 
 Va. 
 
 N. Y. 
 .Ms. 
 Ga. 
 Ky. 
 S. C. 
 Ms. 
 N. Y. 
 N. J. 
 O. 
 O. 
 Pa. 
 Va. 
 
 Ky- 
 
 N. Y. 
 
 Va. ' 
 
 President, 
 Vic? President, 
 Secretary of Slat 
 Sec. of Treasur 
 ) Secretaries of 
 5 War, 
 
 / Secretaries of 
 \ the A 
 
 Post Masters 
 General, 
 Attorneys 
 Genera/, 
 } Speakers of 
 C tlie House 
 j of Reps. 
 
 ' 
 
 \ 
 
 ) 
 
 April 28, 1759, 
 1775, 
 July 11, 1707. 
 
 Julv 4, 1831. 
 . . 1825. 
 
 1835. 
 
 . . 1751, 
 1781. 
 
 ... .... 1826. 
 1825. 
 
 
 Mar. 11, 1785. 
 
 Nov. 8, 1772, 
 April 12, 1777. 
 
 Feb. 18, 1835. 
 
 Sixth Administration ; 1825 to 1829 ; 4 years. 
 
 Namet. 
 
 From. 
 
 Office. 
 
 Born. 
 
 Dud. 
 
 JOHN 'i 1 !>' v ADAMS, 
 
 Ms. 
 
 President, 
 
 July 11, 1767. 
 
 
 . Calhoun, 
 
 
 Vice President, 
 
 1781. 
 
 
 Hi-iirv < 
 
 Ky. 
 
 Secretary of Slate, 
 
 April 12, 1777. 
 
 
 Richard Rush, 
 
 Pa. 
 
 Sec. of Treasury. 
 
 
 
 James Barbour, 
 IVtrr K. Porter. 
 
 Va. 
 
 i claries of ( 
 \ War. \ 
 
 
 
 Siunucl I,. Southard, 
 
 .V J. 
 
 Sec. of the Navy. 
 
 
 
 John .M'Lean, 
 
 0. 
 
 /'. ./. General, 
 
 Mar. 11, 1785. 
 
 
 William Wirt, 
 
 Va. 
 
 Attorney General, 
 
 Nov. 8, 1772. 
 
 Feb. 18, 1835. 
 
 John W. Taylor, 
 Andrew Stephenson, 
 
 N. Y. 
 
 Va. 
 
 ) Speakers of C 
 ) House Reps. ( 
 
 
 
 Seventh Administration ; 1829 to 1837; 8 years. 
 
 ffamet. 
 
 From. 
 
 Offite. 
 
 Born. 
 
 Died. 
 
 AsnRF.w JACKSON, 
 
 Te. 
 S C 
 
 President, 
 
 Mar. 15, 1767. 
 . . . . 1781. 
 
 
 Martin Van Buren, 
 
 V V. 
 
 Secretary of State, 
 
 Dec. 5, 1782. 
 
 
 17 
 
 * Mr. Shelby declined the appointment.
 
 194 
 
 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 Namet. 
 
 From. 
 
 Office. 
 
 Born. 
 
 Died. 
 
 Edward Livingston. 
 Li i i 
 
 La. 
 
 f Secretaries of S 
 
 1765. 
 
 1837. 
 
 ouis MLean, 
 John Forsvili, 
 
 De. 
 Ga. 
 
 C State, " ) 
 
 
 
 Samuel 1>. Ingham, 
 
 Pa. 
 
 1 ( 
 
 
 
 Louis M'Lean, 
 
 De. 
 
 1 Secretaries of j 
 
 
 
 William J. Duane, 
 
 Pa. 
 
 f the Treasury. \ 
 
 
 
 Lev! Woodbury, 
 
 N. H. 
 
 } 1 
 
 
 
 John H. Eaton, 
 
 Te. 
 
 ) Secretaries of ( 
 
 
 
 Lewis Cass, 
 
 O. 
 
 \ War. $ 
 
 
 
 John Branch, 
 Levi Woodbury, 
 Mahlon Dickerson, 
 
 N. C. 
 N. H. 
 X. J. 
 
 / Secretaries of \ 
 C </ie Navy. ) 
 
 
 
 William T. Bsrry, 
 
 Kv 
 
 ) jPosi Masters C 
 
 
 1835 
 
 Amos Kendall, 
 
 Ky. 
 
 $ General, ( 
 
 
 
 John Rl'P. Berrien, 
 Roper B. Taney, 
 Benjamin F. Butler, 
 
 (!u. 
 Md. 
 N. Y. 
 
 S Attorneys S 
 i General. } 
 
 
 
 Anfirew Stepheuson, 
 
 Va. 
 
 ^ Speakers of C 
 
 
 
 John Bell, 
 
 Te. 
 
 ^ House Reps. ( 
 
 
 
 Eighth Administration ; 1837 to 
 
 2Vamff. 
 
 Prom. 
 
 Office. 
 
 Born. 
 
 Died. 
 
 MAUTIN VAN BURKN, 
 
 N. Y. 
 
 President, 
 
 Dec. 5, 1782. 
 
 
 Richard M. Johnson, 
 
 Ky. 
 
 Vice President. 
 
 
 
 John Forsyth, 
 
 Ga. 
 
 Secretary of State. 
 
 
 
 Levi Woodbury, 
 
 N. H. 
 
 Sec. of Treasury. 
 
 
 
 Joel R. Poinsett, 
 Mahlon Uickenson, 
 
 S. C. 
 N. J. 
 
 Secretary of War. 
 I Secretaries of ( 
 
 
 
 James K. Paulding, 
 
 N. Y. 
 
 ) the Nary. ( 
 
 
 
 Amos Kendall, 
 
 Ky. 
 
 P. M. General. 
 
 
 
 Benjamin F. Butler, 
 Felix Grundy, 
 
 N. Y. 
 Te. 
 
 f Attorneys S 
 
 
 
 Henry D. Gilpin, 
 
 Pa. 
 
 j C 
 
 
 
 James K. Polk, 
 
 Te. 
 
 ) Spe/ikers of C 
 
 
 
 Robert M. T. Hunter, 
 
 Va. 
 
 ) House Reps. { 
 
 
 
 The President of the United States receives an annual salary of 
 
 f 25,000; the Vice President, $5,000; the Secretaries of State, the 
 reasury, War, and Navy, and the Post Master General, $6,000, and 
 the Attorney General $4,000, annually. The several Secretaries above 
 named, the Post Master, and Attorney General, form the Cabinet, or 
 executive department, and hold their offices at the will of the President. 
 
 ELECTORAL VOTES, 
 
 For President of the United States, from 1789 to 1837. 
 
 Cnndidattt. Terms of 4 yeare. Date. Whole No. Largest No. 
 
 GEORGE WASHINGTON, 1st 1789, 69 69. 
 
 GEORGE WASHINGTON, 2d 1793, 135 132. 
 
 JOHN ADAMS, . . 
 
 Thomas Jeflerso 
 
 n J 3d 1797, 138 
 
 67.
 
 ELECTORAL VOTES. 
 
 195 
 
 Candidatei. 
 
 THOMAS JEFFERSON, 
 
 John Adams, 
 
 Aaron Burr, 
 
 Charles C. Pinkney, . 
 
 THOMAS JEFFERSON, ? 
 Charles C. Pinkney, . 5 ' 
 
 JAMES MADISON, . > 
 Charles C. Pinkney, $ ' 
 
 JAMES MADISON, ? 
 De Witt Clinton, $ ' 
 
 JAMES MONROE, ) 
 Rufus King, ) 
 
 JAMES MONROE, . . ? 
 John Quiney Adams, $ 
 
 JOHN QUINCY ADAMS, 
 Andrew Jackson, .... 
 William H. Crawford, 
 Henry Clay, 
 
 ANDREW JACKSON, ) 
 
 John Quincy Adams. ) ' 
 
 ANDREW JACKSON, ) 
 Henry Clay, ..... 5 ' 
 
 MARTIN VAN BUREN, 1 
 William H. Harrison, 
 
 H. L. White, }> . 
 
 Daniel Webster, .... I 
 W. D. Mangum, . . . . J 
 
 Term of 4 yean. Date. 
 
 4th.* 1801, 
 
 5th 
 
 6th 
 
 . 7th 
 
 . 8th 
 
 . 9th. . . 
 
 1805,. 
 
 1809,. 
 
 1813, , 
 . 1817, 
 . 1821, 
 
 , 10th. t 1825, 
 
 llth 
 
 , 12th. . 
 
 1833, 
 
 13th 1837, 
 
 . . 138. . 
 
 . . 176. . 
 
 . . 169. . 
 
 217. , 
 
 ..221. , 
 
 . . 232. , 
 
 . .261. 
 
 ..261. 
 . .286. 
 
 Largest No. 
 
 {73. 
 65. 
 73. 
 64. 
 
 PROMINENT CANDIDATES 
 
 For President of the United States for the 14th term of four years ; from 
 March 4th, 1841, to March 4th, 1845. 
 
 MARTIN VAN BUREN, ....... N. Y. born at Kinderhook, N. Y. Dec. 5, 1782. 
 
 Wi i. M AM HENRY HARRISON, . O. . . " in Virginia, ....... Feb. 9, 1773. 
 
 Hi N in- CI.AY, ............. Ky. . " in " ........ April 12, 1777. 
 
 WINFIELD SCOTT, ......... N. Y. " in " ........ June 13, 1785. 
 
 Three different modes of choosing electors of President and V.ce 
 President are given to the several states by the Constitution. The 
 
 * This election was carried to the House of Representatives, and Mr. Jefferson, on 
 the liGtli ballot, was elected. Previous to this time the two candidates, who reeehed 
 the largest number of votes, were elected President and Vice President; after this 
 they were voted for separately. 
 
 f This election was also carried to the House of Representatives, there bpin-r no 
 choice by the people. The votes cast, in that body, were for Mr. Adams, 90; Mr. 
 Jackson, C7 ; and 48 for Mr. Crawford ; total, 205. Mr. Clay's political friends voted 
 for Mr. Adams.
 
 196 
 
 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 first is by the people, by districts; the second, by the people, by a 
 general ticket ; and the third, by the state legislatures. In 1836, all the 
 states chose their electors by a general ticket, except South Carolina, 
 in which they were chosen by the legislature. 
 
 The electors must be chosen within thirty-four days of the first 
 Wednesday in the December immediately preceding the commencement 
 of the presidential term, on which day of December they meet in their 
 respective states to give their votes. 
 
 JUDICIARY OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 Succession of Chief Justices. 
 
 Names. 
 John Jay, 
 John Rutledee, 
 
 From. 
 
 N. Y 
 S. C. . . 
 . . . Ms. . . 
 
 Appointed. 
 
 1789, 
 1795, 
 1796 . . . 
 
 Born. 
 
 . . . 1745, 
 1733 
 
 Oliver Elsworth, 
 John Jay, 
 John Marshall, 
 Roger B. Taney, 
 
 Ct 
 N. Y 
 Va. . . . 
 Md 
 
 1796, 
 1800, 
 1801, 
 1836. 
 
 . . . 1742, 
 , . . 1745, 
 , . . 1755. 
 
 Died. 
 1829. 
 
 1800. 
 1810. 
 1807. 
 1829. 
 1836. 
 
 Succession of Associate Justices. 
 
 Namtt. 
 
 Prom. 
 
 Appointed, 
 
 Born. 
 
 Died. 
 
 John Rutledge, 
 
 S. C. 
 
 1789, . . . 
 
 
 1800- 
 
 William Gushing, . . . . 
 
 Ms. . 
 
 1789, . . . 
 
 '. '. 1733, '. '. 
 
 . . . 1810. 
 
 R. H. Harrison, 
 
 Md. . 
 
 1789, . . . 
 
 1745, 
 
 . . . 1790- 
 
 James Wilson, 
 
 Pa. . 
 
 1789, . . . 
 
 1742, 
 
 . . . 1798. 
 
 John Blair, 
 James Iredell, 
 
 Va. . 
 N. C. 
 
 1789, . . . 
 1790. 
 
 1732, 
 
 1800. 
 
 Thomas Johnson, . . . , 
 
 Md. . 
 
 1791, . . . 
 
 1732, .... 
 
 1819. 
 
 William Patterson, . . . 
 
 N. J. 
 
 1793, . . . 
 
 
 . . . 1806. 
 
 Samuel Chase, 
 
 Md. . 
 
 1796, . . . 
 
 '.'.'.'. 1741', '. 
 
 . . . 1811. 
 
 Bush. Washington, . . . 
 
 Va. . 
 
 1798, . . . 
 
 1758 
 
 1829. 
 
 William Johnson, . . . . 
 
 S. C. 
 
 1804, . . . 
 
 1727, 
 
 . . . 1819. 
 
 Brock. Livingston, . . , 
 
 N. Y. 
 
 1806, . . . 
 
 1758, 
 
 . . 1823. 
 
 Thomas Todd, 
 
 . . . . Va. . 
 
 1807 
 
 
 
 Lcvi Lincoln,* , 
 
 Ms. . 
 
 1811. 
 
 
 
 John Quincy Adams,* 
 
 Ms. 
 
 1811 
 
 
 
 Gabriel Duval, 
 
 .... Md. . 
 
 . . . . 1811 
 
 
 
 Joseph Story, 
 
 Ms. . 
 
 1811, .. . 
 
 1779. 
 
 
 Smith Thompson, . . . , 
 
 iN. V. 
 
 1823. 
 
 
 
 Itolj.Tt Trimble, 
 
 Ky. . 
 
 1826. 
 
 
 
 John M'Lean, ...*.. 
 
 0.. . 
 
 1829, . . . 
 
 1785. 
 
 
 Henry Baldwin, . 
 
 . . Pa. . 
 
 . . 1830. 
 
 
 
 The Supreme Court of the United States is held in the city of 
 Washington, and has one session, annually, commencing on the second 
 Monday of January. 
 
 * Declined the appointment.
 
 CONGRESS OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 197 
 
 CONGRESS OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 The Congress of the United States consists of a Senate and House of 
 Representatives, and must assemble, at least once every year, on the 1st 
 Monday of December, unless it is otherwise provided by law. 
 
 The Senate is composed of two members from each State; and of course 
 the regular number is now 52. They are chosen by the legislatures of the 
 several States, for the term of six years, one third of them being elected 
 biennially. 
 
 The Vice President of the United States is the President of the Senate, 
 in which body he has only a casting vote, which is given in case of an 
 equal division of the votes of the Senators. In his absence, a President 
 pro temnore is chosen by the Senate. 
 
 The House of Representatives is composed of members from the several 
 States, elected by the people for the term of two years. The Representa- 
 tives are apportioned among the different States according to population; 
 and the 23d, 24th, 25th, and 26th Congresses have been elected in accord- 
 ance with an act of Congress of 1832, one representative being returned 
 for every 47,700 persons, computed according to the rule prescribed by 
 the Constitution. The present regular number is 242 representatives, and 
 3 delegates. 
 
 Since the 4th of March, 1807, the compensation of each member of 
 the Senate and House of Representatives, has been $8 a day, during the 
 period of his attendance in Congress, without deduction in case of sick- 
 ness; and $8 for every twenty miles' travel, in the usual road, in going to 
 and returning from the seat of government. The compensation of the 
 President of the Senate, pro tcmpore, and of the Speaker of the House of 
 Representatives, is $16 a day. 
 
 Members of the Senate of the United States. 
 Twenty-Sixth Congress. 
 
 NOTE. The figures denote the period of the Senatorial terms, and the asterisks the 
 political friends of the present Administration. 
 
 Maine. 
 
 Connecticut. 
 
 Maryland. 
 
 John Rubles, 1841. 
 
 Thaddeus Belts, . . . 1845. 
 
 William D. Merrick, 1845. 
 
 *Rucl Williams, . . . 1843. 
 
 *Perry Smith, 1843. 
 
 John S. Spence, . . . 1843. 
 
 New Hampshire. 
 
 New York. 
 
 Virginia. 
 
 "Henry Hubbard,. . 1841. 
 *Frauklin Pierce, . . 1843. 
 
 *Silas Wright, 1843. 
 Nath. P. Talmadge, 1845. 
 
 * William H. Roane, 1841. 
 Vacancy. 
 
 Vermont. 
 
 New Jersey. 
 
 North Carolina. 
 
 Samuel Phclps, . . . 1845. 
 
 S. L. Southard, . . . 1845. 
 
 "Bedford Brown, . . 1841. 
 
 Samuel Prentiss, . . 1843. 
 
 'Garrett D. Wall, . . 1841. 
 
 *Rohert Strange, . . 1843. 
 
 Massachusetts. 
 
 Pennsylvania. 
 
 South Carolina. 
 
 John Davis .... 1841 
 
 *James Buchanan, . 1843. 
 
 *John C. Calhoun, . 1841. 
 
 Daniel Webster, . . . 1845. 
 
 *Daniel Sturgeon, . . 1845. 
 
 William C. Preston, 1813. 
 
 Rhode Island. 
 
 Delaware. 
 
 Georgia. 
 
 Nathan F. Dixon, . . 1845. 
 
 Thomas Clayton, . . 1841. 
 
 'Alfred Cuthbert, . . 1843. 
 
 Neh. R. Knight,.. . 1841. 
 
 ^ f* it. 
 
 Vacancy. 
 
 * William Lumpkin, . 1841. 
 
 17*
 
 198 
 
 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 Alabama. 
 
 'Clement C. Clay, . 1843. 
 "William R. King; . 1841. 
 
 Mississippi. 
 
 John Henderson, . . 1845. 
 *R. J. Walker, 1841. 
 
 Louisiana. 
 
 "Alexander Mouton, 1843. 
 *R. C. Nicholas, . . . 1841. 
 
 Tennessee. 
 *Felix Grundy, .... 1845. 
 
 Vacant. 
 
 Kentucky. 
 
 Henry Clay, 1845. 
 
 John J. Crittenden, . 1841. 
 
 Ohio. 
 
 *William Allen, . . . 1841. 
 *Benjamin Tappan, . 1845. 
 
 Indiana. 
 
 *Oliver H. Smith, . . 1843. 
 Albert S. White, . . . 1845. 
 
 Illinois. 
 
 *J. M. Robinson, . . 1841. 
 *Richard M. Young, 1843. 
 
 Missouri. 
 
 *Thomas H. Benton, 1845. 
 *Lewis F. Linn,. . . 1843. 
 
 Michigan. 
 
 *John Norvell, . . . 1841. 
 A. A. Porter, 1845. 
 
 Arkansas. 
 
 * William S. Fulton, 1840. 
 'Ambrose H. Sevier, 1844. 
 
 Members of the House of Representatives of the United States. 
 Twenty-Sixth Congress, First Session, begun Dec. 2, 1839. 
 
 NOTE.' The letter d. signifies Democrat ; w. Whig; ? Doubtful ; and con. Conservative.* 
 ROBERT M. T. HUNTER, of Virginia, Speaker. 
 
 Adams, John Quincy, w Ms. 
 
 Alford, Julius C., w Ga. 
 
 Allen, Judson, d N. Y. 
 
 Allen, John W., w O. 
 
 Anderson, Hugh 3., d Me. 
 
 Anderson, Simeon H., w Ky. 
 
 Andrews, Landaff W., to Ky. 
 
 Atherton, Charles G., d N. H. 
 
 Banks, Linn, d Va. 
 
 Baker, Osmyn, w Ms 
 
 Barnard, Daniel D., w N. Y. 
 
 Bealty, William, d Pa. 
 
 Beirne, Andrew, d Va. 
 
 Bell, John, w Te. 
 
 Biddle, Richard, w Pa. 
 
 Black, Edward J., ? Ga. 
 
 Blackwell, Julius W., d Te. 
 
 Bond, William K., w O. 
 
 Bolts, John M., to Va. 
 
 Boyd, Linn, d Ky. 
 
 Brewster, David P., d N. Y. 
 
 Briggs, George N., w Ms. 
 
 Brockway, John H., v> Ct. 
 
 Brown, Aaron V., d Te. 
 
 Brown, Albert G., d Mi. 
 
 Brown, Anson, TO N. Y. 
 
 Burke, Edmund, d N. H. 
 
 Butler, Sampson H., d S. C. 
 
 Butler, William O., d Ky. 
 
 Bynum, Jesse A., d N. C. 
 
 Calhoun, William B. 3 w Ms. 
 
 Campbell, John, ? S. C. 
 
 Campbell, William B., 10 Te. 
 
 Carr, John, d la. 
 
 Carroll, James, d Md. 
 
 Carter, William B., w Te. 
 
 Casey, Zadok, d Is. 
 
 Chapman, Reuben, d Aa. 
 
 Chapman, William W., d lo. 
 
 Chinn, Thomas W., to La. 
 
 Chittenden, Thomas C., w N. Y. 
 
 Clark, John C., con N. Y. 
 
 Clifford, Nathan,- d . . Me. 
 
 Coles, Walter, d Va. 
 
 Colquit. Walter T., 1 Ga. 
 
 Conner, Henry W., d N. C. 
 
 Cooper, James, w Pa. 
 
 Cooper, Mark A., ? Ga. 
 
 Corwin, Thomas, to O. 
 
 Crabb, George W., w Aa. 
 
 Craig, Robert, d Va. 
 
 Cranston, Robert B., w R. I. 
 
 Crary, Isaac E., d Mn. 
 
 Crockett, John W., w Te. 
 
 Cross, Edward, d As. 
 
 Curtis, Edward, w N. Y. 
 
 Cushing, Caleb, w Ms. 
 
 Dana, Amasa, d t . . N. Y. 
 
 Davee, Thomas, d Me. 
 
 Davies, Edward, w Pa. 
 
 *" CONSERVATIVE ; nn adjective; preservative; having power to preserve in a safe or 
 entire state, or from loss, waste, or injury." Jfoah Webster,
 
 CONGRESS OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 199 
 
 Davis, John, d Pa. 
 
 Davis, John W.. d la. 
 
 Davis. Garret, w Ky. 
 
 Dawson, William C., to Ga. 
 
 Deberry, Edmund, ic N. C. 
 
 Dennis, John, to Md. 
 
 Delicti, James, w. . . . Aa. 
 
 Doan, William, d O. 
 
 Doig, Andrew W., d N. Y. 
 
 Doty, James D., d Wn. 
 
 Downing. Charles, d Fa, 
 
 Dromgoole, George C., d Va. 
 
 Duncan, Alexander, d O. 
 
 Earl, Nehemiah H., d N. Y. 
 
 Eastman, Ira A., d N. H. 
 
 Edwards, John, it' Pa. 
 
 Ely, John, d. N. Y. 
 
 Evans, George, w Me. 
 
 Everett, Horace, ic Vt. 
 
 Fillmorc, Millard, w N. Y. 
 
 Fine, John, d N. Y. 
 
 Fisher, Charles, d N. C. 
 
 Fletcher, Isaac, d Vt. 
 
 Floyd, John G., d N. Y. 
 
 Fornance, Joseph, d Pa. 
 
 Galbraith, John, d Pa. 
 
 Garland, James, con. . . .^. . . . Va. 
 
 Garland, Rice, to '..... La. 
 
 Gates, Seth M., to N. Y. 
 
 Gentry, Meredith P.f w Te. 
 
 Grrrv, James, d Pa. 
 
 Giddings, Joshua R., w O. 
 
 ,, William L., ic Va. 
 
 Goode, Patrick G., w O. 
 
 Graham, James, to N. C. 
 
 Granger, Francis, to N. Y. 
 
 Graves, William J., w Ky. 
 
 Green, Willis, w Ky. 
 
 Griffin, John K., d S. C. 
 
 Grinnell, Moses H., w N. Y. 
 
 Hah. r-iiam, Richard W., to. ... Ga. 
 
 Hall, Hiland, to Vt. 
 
 Hammond, Robert H., d Pa. 
 
 Hand, Augustus C., d N. Y. 
 
 Hastings, William S., to Ms. 
 
 Hastings, John, d O. 
 
 Hawos, Richard, to Ky. 
 
 Hawkins, Micajah T., d N. C. 
 
 llcnrv, Thomas, to Pa. 
 
 Hill, 'John, w Va. 
 
 Hill, John, d N. C. 
 
 Hillen, Solomon, jr., d Md. 
 
 Hoffman, Ogden, to N. Y. 
 
 Holleman, Joel, d Va. 
 
 Holmes, Isaac E., d S. C. 
 
 Hook, Enos, d Pa. 
 
 Hopkins, Gi'orgo W., con Va. 
 
 Howard, TiL'limnn A., d la. 
 
 Hubbard, David, d Aa. 
 
 Hunt, Hiram P.. w X. Y. 
 
 Hunter. R. M. T.. > Va. 
 
 Jackson, Thomas 15., d N. Y. 
 
 James, Francis, w Pa. 
 
 Jameson, John, d Mo. 
 
 Jenifer, Daniel, 10 Md. 
 
 Johnston, Charles, to N. Y. 
 
 Johnson, Joseph, d Va. 
 
 Johnson, William Cost, to Md. 
 
 Johnson, Cave, d Te. 
 
 Jones Nathaniel, d N. Y. 
 
 Jones, John W., d Va. 
 
 Keim, George M., d Pa. 
 
 Kemble. Gouverneur, d N. Y. 
 
 Kempshall, Thomas, w N. Y. 
 
 King, Thomas Butler, ? Ga. 
 
 Lawrence, Abbott, to Ms. 
 
 Leadbetter, Daniel P., d O. 
 
 Leet, Isaac, d Pa. 
 
 Leonard, Stephen B., d N. Y. 
 
 Lewis, Dixon H.,;jf Aa. 
 
 Lincoln, Levi, 10 Ms. 
 
 Lowell, Joshua A., d Me. 
 
 Lucas, William, d Va. 
 
 M'Carty, W. M., w Va. 
 
 M'Clellan, Abraham, d Te. 
 
 M'Culloch, George, d. Pa. 
 
 M'Kay, James J., d N. C. 
 
 Mallory, Meredith, d N. Y. 
 
 Marchand, Albert G., d Pa. 
 
 Marvin, Richard P., w N. Y. 
 
 Mason, Samson, to O. 
 
 Medill, William, d : O. 
 
 Miller, John, d Mo. 
 
 Mitchell, Charles F., w N. Y. 
 
 Monroe, James, w N. Y. 
 
 Montanya, James D. La, d. . . . N. Y. 
 
 Montgomery, William, d N. C. 
 
 Morgan, Christopher, w N. Y. 
 
 Morris, Samuel W., d Pa. 
 
 Morris, Calvary, to O. 
 
 Naylor, Charles, Pa. 
 
 Nuwhard, Peter, d Pa. ' 
 
 Nisbet, Eugenius A., ? Ga. 
 
 Ogle, Charles, ic Pa. 
 
 Osborne, Thomas B., to < 'i. 
 
 Palcn, Rufus, to N. Y. 
 
 Parish, Isaac, d O. 
 
 Parmenter, William, d Ms 
 
 Parris, Virgil D., d. Me 
 
 Pavnter, Lemuel, d Pa. 
 
 Peck, Luther C., to N. Y. 
 
 Petrikin, David, d Pa. 
 
 Pii-kens. Francis W., d S. C. 
 
 Pope. John, w . Ky. 
 
 Prentiss, John H., d N. Y. 
 
 Proffit, Georffo II.. to la. 
 
 Ramsey, William S., d Pa. 
 
 Randall, Benjamin, to Me. 
 
 Randolph, Joseph F., IP N. J. 
 
 Rariden, James, i/- la. 
 
 Ravner,' Kenneth, 10 N. C. 
 
 Reed, John, to Ms. 
 
 Rovnolds, John. (/ Is. 
 
 Rhett, R. Barnwell, d S. C.
 
 200 
 
 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 Ridgway, Joseph, w. 
 Rives, Francis E., d. 
 
 O. 
 
 Va. 
 
 Robinson, Thomas, jr., d De. 
 
 Rogers, Edward, d N Y. 
 
 Rogers, James, d S. C. 
 
 Russell, David, w N. Y. 
 
 Saltonstall, Lcverett, w Ms. 
 
 Samuels, Green B., d Va. 
 
 Sergeant, John, w Pa. , 
 
 Shaw, Tristram, d N. H. 
 
 Shepard, Charles, d N. C. 
 
 Simonton, William, w Pa. 
 
 Slade, William, w Vt. 
 
 Smith, Albert, d . . . . Me. 
 
 Smith, John, d Vt. 
 
 Smith, Truman, w Ct. 
 
 Smith, Thomas, d la. 
 
 Stanly, Edward, w N. C. 
 
 Starkweather, David A., d. . . . O. 
 
 Steenrod, Lewis, d Va. 
 
 Slorrs, William L., w Ct. 
 
 Strong, Therou R., d N. Y. 
 
 Sluart, John T., w Is. 
 
 Sumter, Thomas B., d S. C. 
 
 Swearingen, Henry, d O. 
 
 Sweeny, George, d O. 
 
 Taliaferro, John, w Va. 
 
 Taylor, Jonathan, d O. 
 
 Thomas, Francis, d Md. 
 
 Thomas, Philip F., d Md. 
 
 Thompson, Waddy, jr., w S. C. 
 
 Thompson, Jacob, d Mi. 
 
 Tillinghast, Joseph L., to R. I. 
 
 Toland, George W., 10 Pa. 
 
 Triplelt, Philip, w Ky. 
 
 Trumbull, Joseph, w Ct. 
 
 Turney, Hopkins L., d Te. 
 
 Underwood, Joseph R., ic Ky. 
 
 Vanderpoel, Aaron, d N. Y. 
 
 Wagener, David D., d Pa. 
 
 Wagner, Peter J., w N. Y. 
 
 Warren, Lott, w Ga. 
 
 Waiterson, Harvey M., d Te. 
 
 Weller, John E., d O. 
 
 White, Edward D., w La. 
 
 White, John, w Ky. 
 
 Wick, William W., d la. 
 
 Jared W., d N. H. 
 
 Thomas W., M). ..... Ct. 
 
 Henry, d Ms. 
 
 Lewis, w N. C. 
 
 Williams 
 Williams 
 Williams 
 Williams 
 Williams 
 Williams 
 Williams 
 
 Joseph L., w. 
 Christopher H., w. 
 
 Te. 
 .Te. 
 
 Sherrocl, w Ky. 
 
 Wise, Henry A., w Va. 
 
 Worthington, John T, H., d Md. 
 
 Summary. 
 
 The following Table presents, at one view, as correct a statement of 
 the political character of the House as could be obtained from authen- 
 tic sources in January, 1840. 
 
 States. 
 
 Whole 
 No. 
 
 Demo. 
 
 Whig. Dbtf. Con. 
 
 Slates. 
 
 Me. 
 
 . 8 . 
 
 . 6 . 
 
 .. 2 
 
 Ga. 
 
 IS. II. .. 
 
 . 5 . 
 
 . 5 
 
 
 Aa. 
 
 Vt. . . 
 
 . 5. 
 
 . 2 . 
 
 . . 3 
 
 Mi. 
 
 Ms. . . 
 
 . 12. 
 
 . 2. 
 
 . .10 
 
 La. 
 
 i;. i. . . 
 
 . 2. 
 
 
 .. 2 
 
 Te. 
 
 Ct. .. 
 
 . 6. 
 
 
 .. 6 
 
 Ky- 
 
 N.Y... 
 
 .40. 
 
 '. 19 '. 
 
 . . 20 1 
 
 o: 
 
 N. J. . . 
 
 . 6 . 
 
 
 .. 1 .. .5 
 
 la. 
 
 Pa. . . 
 
 .28 . 
 
 '. 17 ; 
 
 ..11 
 
 Is. 
 
 De 
 
 . 1 . 
 
 i 
 
 
 Mo. 
 
 M.I. . . 
 
 . 8 . 
 
 . 5 . 
 
 . . 3 
 
 Mn. 
 
 Va. .. 
 
 .21 . 
 
 . 12. 
 
 . . 6 ... 1 .. .2 
 
 As. 
 
 N. C. . . 
 
 . 13. 
 
 . 8. 
 
 . . 5 
 
 Tern ) 
 
 S. C. . . 
 
 . 9. 
 
 . 7. 
 
 .. 2 
 
 torie,. < 
 
 Whole 
 No. 
 
 JDemo. 
 
 Whig. Dbtf. Con. 
 
 . . 9 . 
 
 
 . 4. . .5 
 
 ..5. 
 
 '. 3.' 
 
 .. 2 
 
 ..2. 
 
 .. 2 
 
 
 ..3. 
 
 
 . 3 
 
 . . 13 . , 
 
 '. 6 '. 
 
 .. 7 
 
 . . 13. , 
 
 , . 2. 
 
 . .11 
 
 . . 19 . 
 
 . 11 . 
 
 . . 8 
 
 . . 7.. 
 
 .5. 
 
 . . 2 
 
 . . 3 . , 
 
 , . 2. 
 
 . . 1 
 
 . . 2.. 
 
 , . 2 
 
 
 . . 1 . 
 
 . 1 
 
 
 . . 1 . 
 
 . 1 
 
 
 ..3. 
 
 . 3 
 
 
 Five members from New Jersey, whose election is contested, are set 
 down among the doubtful. The contest is between John B. Aycrigg, 
 William Halsted, J. P. B. Maxwell, Charles C. Stratton, and Thomas 
 J. York, whigs, and W. R. Cooper, P. Dickerson, Joseph Kille, D. B. 
 Ryall, and P. D. Vroom, democrats.
 
 VARIETY. 20 / 
 
 VARIETY. 
 
 The Mother. Heaven has imprinted on the mother's face something which 
 claims kindred with the skies. The waking, watchful eye, which keeps its tireless 
 vigils over her slumbering child the tender look and the angelic smile, are ob- 
 jects which neither the pencil nor the chisel can reach, and which poetry fails in 
 attempting to portray. Upon the eulogies of the most eloquent tongue we should 
 find Tekel written. It is in the sympathies of the heart alone, where lives the 
 lovely picture, and the eye may look abroad in vain for its counterpart in the works 
 of art. 
 
 Petrarch and Laura. When Petrarch first saw Laura, she was young and 
 beautiful he loved her and the feeling ended only with his life. In a few 
 years afterwards, she lost all her beauty. When hardly thirty-five years of age, 
 Petrarch said in one of his works, '' If I had loved her person only. I had changed 
 long since." His friends wondered how a beauty so withered should continue to 
 inspire so ardent an attachment. " What matters it," answered Petrarch, " if the 
 bow can no longer wound, since the wound once inflicted continues to bleed 1 " 
 
 Religion. Let this idea dwell in our minds, that our duties to God and our 
 duties to men are not distinct and independent duties, but are involved in each 
 other ; that devotion and virtue are not different things, but the same thing ; cither 
 in different stages or in different stations, in different points of progress or circum- 
 stances of situation. What we call devotion, for the sake of distinction, during its 
 initiatory and instrumental exercises, is devotion in its infancy ; the virtue which, 
 after a time, it produces, is devotion in its maturity : the contemplation of Deity is 
 devotion at rest ; the execution of his commands is devotion in action. Praise is 
 religion in the temple or in the closet ; industry, from a sense of duty, is religion in 
 the shop or field ; commercial integrity is religion in the mart ; the communication 
 of consolation is religion in the chamber of sickness; paternal instruction is reli- 
 gion at the hearth ; justice is religion on the bench ; patriotism is religion in the 
 public councils. Francis. 
 
 Music. Music, remarks old Burton, is the medicine of the mind ; it rouses and 
 revives the languishing soul ; affects not only the ears, but the very arteries ; 
 awakens the dormant powers of life, raises the animal spirits, and renders the dull, 
 severe, and sorrowful mind erect and nimble. According to Cassiodorus, it will 
 not only expel the severest grief, soften the most violent hatred, mitigate the sharp- 
 est spleen, but extenuate fear and fury, appease cruelty, abate heaviness, and 
 bring the mind to quietude and rest. 
 
 Tliree Great Physicians. The bedside of the celebrated Dumoulin, a few 
 ' hours before he breathed his last, was surrounded by fhe most eminent physicians 
 of Paris, who affected to think that his death would be an irreparable loss to the 
 profession. " Gentlemen," said Dumoulin, " you are in error; I >liall leave be- 
 nind me three distinguished physicians." Being pressed to name them, as each 
 expected to be included in the trio, he answered, " Water, Exercise, and Diet." 
 
 in of Disease. I tell you honestly what I think is the cause of the compli- 
 cated maladies of the human frame ; it is their gormandizing, and stuffing, and 
 stimulating the digestive organs to excess ; thereby producing nervous disorder 
 and irritation. The state of their minds is another grand cause the fidgeting 1 
 and discontenting yourself about that which cannot be helped ; passions of all 
 kinds malignant passions and worldly cares pressing upon the mind disturb . 
 the cerebral action, and do a great deal of harm. Abernethy. 
 
 Kihication. Education is a companion which no misfortune candepress.no 
 climate destroy, no enemy alienate, no despotism enslave; at home a friend, 
 abroad an introduction ; in solitude a.golace, iu society cin ornament. It ! 
 vice ; it guides virtue ; it gives at once grace and government to the genius. 
 Without it, what is man ? A splendid slave ! a reasoning savage ! vacillating be- 
 tween the dignity of an intelligence derived from God, and the degradation of 
 brutal passion.
 
 202 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 Life. Our state in this vale of tears is a mixed one. Life may be likened to 
 the winds 5 ever shifting- and never alike. Sometimes it appears as calm as sum- 
 mer evenings, and again storms and tempests checker its even surface, darkening 
 every prospect, and rendering scenes once bright and joyous, gloomy and bleak 
 as the caverns of death. But even over all these scenes there is one star that 
 seems to brighten. In the absence of all that renders life tolerable, in weal or woe, 
 in joy or sorrow, it still beams out alone, unchanged, undimmed, as though it had 
 found its way from the third heavens. It stands out in peerless beauty, dispensing 
 its blessed light at all times and all seasons, flinging its hallowed though not bril- 
 liant rays across the path of the wilderness : and even in our sunniest moments, 
 when it is forgotten, and we steer wide of its heavenly direction, still it seems to 
 twinkle near the blazing orb that burns when prosperity rules at the destiny of an 
 hour. This is the star of Bethlehem. 
 
 Saint Aspinquid. This faithful missionary was born in 1588. He was more 
 than 40 years of age when converted to Christianity. He died in 1682, on Mount 
 Agamejiticus, in Maine. On his tombstone is still seen this couplet : 
 "Present, useful ; absent, wanted; 
 Lived desired, died lamented." 
 
 He was a preacher of the gospel to sixty-six different nations for forty years, 
 from the Atlantic Ocean to the Californian Sea. The sachems of the different 
 tribes attended his funeral, and made a collection of a great number of wild 
 beasts, to do him honor by a sacrifice, on the occasion, agreeably to the custom of 
 those nations; and on that day were slain accordingly, 25 bucks, 67 does, 99 
 bears, 36 moose, 240 wolves, 82 wild-cats, 3 catamounts, 482 foxes, 32 buffaloes, 
 400 otters, 620 beavers, 1500 minks, 1 10 ferrets, 520 raccoons, 900 musquashes, 
 501 fishers, 3 ermines, 38 porcupines, 50 weasles, 832 martins, 59 woodchucks, and 
 112 rattlesnakes. Total number, 6711. Historical Collections. 
 
 Anagram. Pilate's question to our Saviour, " What is truth ? " in the Latin 
 vulgate stands thus " Quid est veritas ? " These letters, transposed, make " Est 
 vir qui adest ; " " It is the man before thee." 
 
 Extract from Buhner. It cannot be that earth is man's abiding place. It can- 
 not be that our life is cast up by the ocean of eternity, to float a moment upon its 
 waves, and sink into nothingness. Else, why is it, that the high and glorious aspi- 
 rations which leap like angels from the temple of our hearts, are forever wandering 
 about unsatisfied ? Why is it that the rainbow and cloud come over us with a 
 beauty that is not of earth, and then pass off, and leave us to muse upon their faded 
 loveliness ? Why is it that the stars, who hold their " festival around the midnight 
 throne," arc set above the grasp of our limited faculties, forever mocking us with 
 their unapproachable glory ? And finally, why is it that brighter forms of human 
 beauty are presented to our view, and then taken from us, leaving the thousand 
 streams of our affection to flow back in Alpine torrents upon our hearts ? We are 
 born for a higher destiny than that of earth ; there is a realm where the rainbow 
 never fades; where the stars will be spread out before us like islands that slumber 
 on the ocean ; aud where the beautiful beings which here pass before us like shad- 
 ows, will stay in our presence forever. 
 
 A Mother's Love. By BULWER. 
 Oh ! in our sterner manhood, when no ray 
 Of earlier sunshine glimmers on our w-ay, 
 When girt with sins and sorrows, and the toil 
 Of cares which rend the bosom that they soil ; 
 Oh ! if there be in retrospection's chain 
 One link that knits us with young life again, 
 One thought so sweet we scarcely dare to muse 
 On all the hoarded raptures it reviews, 
 Which seems an instant in its backward range, 
 The heart to soften, and its ties to change, 
 And every spring, untouched for years, to move, 
 It is the memory of a mother's love.
 
 VARIETY. 203 
 
 A Beautiful Sentiment. The late eminent judge, Sir Allen Park, once said at a 
 public meeting in London " We live in the midst of blessings, till we are utterly 
 insensible of their greatness, and of the sources from whence they flow. We speak 
 of our civilization, our arts, our freedom, our laws, and forget entirely how large a 
 share of all is due to Christianity. Blot Christianity out of the page of man's 
 history, and what would his laws have been ? what his civilization '? Christianity 
 i> mixed up with our very being and our daily life : there is not a familiar object 
 round us which does not wear a mark ; not a being or a thing which does not wear 
 a different aspect, because the light of Christian hope is on it ; not a righteous 
 law which does not owe its truth and gentleness to Christianity ; not a salutary 
 custom which cannot be traced in all its holy and healthful parts to the gospel." 
 
 iltd Estate. Every man who desires to entail a valuable and enduring in- 
 heritance on his children, which cannot be docked, of which rogues cannot defraud 
 them, and on which the sheriff can't levy execution, and which they can't alienate 
 by a general assignment, may accomplish his wishes by bringing them up in habits 
 of persevering industry in any useful calling ; by instilling into them habits of sound 
 economy ; and, above all. by imbuing their minds with correct and practical views 
 of moral and religious obligations. 
 
 Minding- one's Business. A New England fanner said, that last year he had 
 
 made 1500 dollars by minding his own business, and 500 dollars by letting the busi- 
 
 : others alone ; in all, 2,000 dollars. Query. What would this amount to, 
 
 reckoning it an annuity of 2.000 dollars at six per cent., compound interest, for 
 
 thirty years. Ans. 5158,116 37 cents. 
 
 Wealth. Wealth in this country may be traced back to industry and frugality : 
 
 the paths which lead to it are open to all ; and such is the joint operation of the 
 
 law, and the customs of society, that the wheel of fortune is in constant revolution, 
 
 and the poor in one generation furnishes the rich of the next. The rich man. who 
 
 treats poverty with arrogance and contempt, tramples upon the ashes of his father 
 
 or his grandfather; the poor man, who nourishes feelings of unkindness and bitter- 
 
 _ linst wealth, makes war with the prospects of his children, and the order of 
 
 a which he lives. Edward Everett. 
 
 Compliment to Washington. A volume was presented to General Washington, 
 in 1797, by Lord Erskine, on a blank page of which he wrote the following note, 
 containing, perhaps, the happiest eulogium of the many bestowed upon that won- 
 derful man : 
 
 " Sir, I have taken the liberty to introduce your august and immortal name in 
 a short sentence, which is to be found in the book I send you. I have a large 
 acquaintance among the most valuable and exalted classes of men, but you are the 
 only human being lor whom I ever felt an awful reverence. I sincerely pray God 
 to grant a long and serene evening to a life so gloriously devoted to the happiness 
 of the world." 
 
 (Iriiinli'iir. "What is moral grandeur ? It is the singular 1 combination 
 of the most pure and elevated principles, and eminent virtues, brought into action 
 immon impulses and formidable difficulties and conflicts. It is not produced 
 in the calm stream of peaceful life, where struggles are comparatively nothing, and 
 where all may attain to the beauty of moral excellence. It is formed in the crisis 
 of moral convulsions. It is the noble.-t energy of man, meeting, with conscious 
 rectitude, unparalleled firmness, and unruffled spirit, the severer assaults of the 
 tremendous powers of darkness. It is born in tne hour of some awful civil hurri- 
 cane, and nursed amidst the tempests of life. It rides on the volleyed lightnings of 
 a revolution, and conducts them away with safely and blessing. " Its features are 
 painted on the dark canvass of the retiring clouds of distress, with all the grace 
 and magnificent coloring of the rainbow. It holds dominion over every i \ 11 prts- 
 sion, and is the faultless model of self-government and unbending integrity. It is 
 a spirit of simplicity, that rises above and disdains the external decorations of life. 
 It aims at the public good, without the x alloy and pollution of selfishness ; and 
 accomplishes its lofty purposes only by means that the loftiest spirits of heaven 
 would approve. It finds nothing in the universe to weigh ngainst freedom and 
 truth. It regards the divine law, the obligations of duty, the judicial majesty of
 
 204 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 conscience, above all the menaces of peri!, the insidious eloquence of private 
 interest, and the tempting overtures of personal aggrandizement. Amidst the im- 
 perious claims of virtue and truth, it surrenders, when required, every thing, and 
 even life itself, as a triumphant sacrifice, without hesitation or regret, with a firm 
 step, a seraphic serenity of demeanor, and a martyr-like zeal and majesty. Such 
 was tlio moral grandeur that distinguished Washington." Rev. Dr. Charles 
 Burroughs. 
 
 Reflection on. Death. "Heavens ! what a moment must be that, when the last 
 flutter expires on our lips ! What a change ! Tell me, ye who are deepest read 
 in nature and in God. to what new worlds are we borne 1 What new being do we 
 receive? Whither has that spark, that unseen, that uncomprehended intelligence 
 fled ? Look upon the cold, livid, ghastly corpse that lies before you ! That was 
 but a shell, a gross and earthly covering, which held for a while the immortal 
 essence that has now left it ; left it, to range, perhaps, through illimitable space ; 
 
 hopes and fears ; it -is the consummation that clears up all mystery, resolves all 
 doubts ; which removes contradiction and destroys error. Great God ! what a 
 flood of rapture may at once burst upon the departed soul! the unclouded 
 brightness of the celestial regions; pure existence of ethereal beings; the solemn 
 secrets of nature may then be divulged; the immediate unity of the past, the 
 present, and the future ; strains of unimaginable harmony, forms of imperishable 
 beauty may then suddenly disclose themselves, bursting upon the delighted senses 
 and filling them with measureless bliss ! The mind is lost in this excess of won- 
 drous light, and dares not turn from the heavenly vision to one so gloomy, so 
 tremendous, as the departure of the wicked ! ifuman fancy shrinks back ap- 
 palled ; while Hope and Charity whisper to the bleeding heart that where all mercy 
 is, there, too, will be forgiveness." 
 
 How to tell Bad News. 
 
 SOEVE. Mr. G's room at Oxford. Enter his father's steward. 
 Mr. G. Ha, Jcrvas ! How are you, my old boy ? How do things go on at 
 home ? 
 
 Mrintrrl. Bad enough, your honor ; the magpie's dead. 
 Mr. G. Poor .Mag ! so he's gone. How came he to die ? 
 
 "(I. Overate himself, sir. 
 
 Mr. G. Did he, faith ? a greedy dog. Why, what did he get he liked so well ? 
 Ftnrnrd. Horse flesh, sir ; he d'ied of eating horse flesh. 
 Mr. (i. How came he to get so much horse flesh ? 
 <*'/ u-iird. All your father's horses, sir. 
 Mr. G. What! arc they dead, too? 
 Wi'inird. Ay, sir; they died of overwork. 
 .'/'. G. And why were they overworked, pray? 
 !<!,'n'nrfl. To carry water, sir. 
 
 Mr. G. To cany water ! and what were they carrying water for ? 
 8li ward. Sure, sir, to put out the fire. 
 Mr. (,'. Fire! what fii<- .' 
 
 ;-V ward. <), sir. your father's house is burned down to the ground. 
 Mr. (!, My father's house burned down ! And how came it set on fire ? 
 Steward. I think, sir, it must have been the torches. 
 Mr. G. Torches ! what torches ? 
 
 'rd. At your mother's funeral. 
 Mr. G. My mother dead ! 
 
 t^t''ir,irfl. Ah, poor !a<!v, she never looked up after it. 
 Mr. G. Aftor what ? 
 Steward. The loss of your father. 
 Mr. G. My father gone loo ? 
 
 l~'!''ica.rd. Yes. poor ffontleman, he took to his bed as soon as he heard of it. 
 Mr. G. Hoard of what? 
 Steward. The bad news, sir, and please your honor.
 
 VARIETY. 205 
 
 Mr. G. What ! more miseries ? more bad news 1 
 
 Steward. Yes, sir. Your bauk has- failed, and your credit is lost, and you are 
 not worth a shilling in the world. I made bold, sir, to come to wait on you about 
 it, for I thought you would like to hear the news. 
 
 Good Sentiments. The laws of Zaleucus, lawgiver to the Locrians, who lived 
 five hundred years before the Christian era, are introduced with the following 
 preamble : 
 
 " No man can question the existence of a Deity, who observes the order and 
 harmony of the universe, which cannot be the production of chance. Men ought 
 to bridle their passions, and to guard against every vice. God is pleased with no 
 sacrifice but a sincere heart; and diners widely from mortals, whose delight is 
 'splendid ceremonies and rich offerings. Let Justice therefore be studied ; for by 
 that only can a man be acceptable to the Deity. Let those who are tempted to 
 do ill, have always before their eyes the severe judgments of God against wicked 
 men. Let them always keep in view the hour of death, that fatal hour, which is 
 attended with bitter remorse for transgressing the rules of justice. If a bad dis- 
 position incline you to vice, pray to Heaven at the foot of the altar to mead your 
 heart." 
 
 Temperance. '' Temperance," says the Barnstable Patriot, " puts wood upon 
 the fire, flour in the barrel, meat in the tub, vigor in the body, intelligence in the 
 brain, and spirit in the whole composition." 
 
 Eloquence. The following is an extract from a speech delivered by a member 
 of the Indiana legislature, on a bill to encourage the killing of wolves : 
 
 Mr. Speaker, The wolf is the most ferocious animal that prowls in our west- 
 ern prairies, or runs at large in the forests of Indiana. He creeps from his lurking- 
 place at the hour of midnight, when all nature is locked in the silent embrace of 
 Morpheus ; and ere the portals of the east are unbarred, or bright Phoebus rises in 
 all his golden majesty, whole litters of pigs are destroyed." 
 
 Optical Experiment. If two pieces of transparent white paper be attached to 
 a window and examined through a prism, fringes of red, blue, and yellow, will be 
 produced. Should the light of the sun be very vivid there, a very powerful arti- 
 ficial rainbow will result ; t>ut if the paper be increased in thickness, the blue color 
 will preponderate. 
 
 Plagues. Chronologists and historians tell us that the whole world was visited 
 by a plague 767 years before Christ. Some of the most remarkable since the 
 Christian era are the following : 
 
 Place. T^me. Number destroyed. 
 
 London, A. D. 1517 60,000 
 
 Ditto, 1407 30,000 
 
 Ditto, 1604 4 part population. 
 
 Constantinople, 1611 200,000 
 
 London, 1665 68,000 
 
 Bassorah, 1773 80,000 
 
 Smyrna, 1784 20,000 
 
 Tunis, 1784 32,000 
 
 Egypt, 1792 800,000 
 
 Smyrna, 1814 30,000 
 
 A Challenge. When Judge Thacher, many years ago, was a member of 
 Congress from Massachusetts, he was challenged to a duel by Mr. Blount, member 
 from North Carolina, for words spoken in debate. The judge, on reading the 
 message from Blount, after adjusting his wig and revolutionary hat, said to the 
 bearer, " Give my respectful compliments to your master, and tell him he cannot 
 have a definite answer to his note to-day. Let him be patient a short time, till I 
 can write to Portland and receive an answer. I always consult my wife on mat- 
 ters of importance, well knowing that she is a better -judge of family affairs than 
 myself. If she consents to take the choice of becoming a widow, or having her 
 husband hanged for murder, I certainly will fight Mr. Blount. Tell him not to be 
 in a hurry ; it will not take more than tfiree weeks to receive her election." 
 18
 
 206 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 The Goods of Life. Speaking of these, Sir William Temple says, " The 
 greatest pleasure of life is love ; the greatest treasure is contentment ; the greatest 
 possession is health ; the greatest ease is sleep ; and the greatest medicine a true 
 friend." 
 
 Wife advertised. 
 
 " Whereas my wife, Mrs. Bridget McDallogh, is again walked away with her- 
 self, and left me with five small children and her poor blind mother, and left nobody 
 else to take care of house and home, and I hear has taken up with Tim Ghigan, the 
 lame fiddler, the same that was put in the stocks last Easter, for stealing Barney 
 Doody's game cock, this is to give notice, that I will not pay for bite or sup on 
 her account to man or mortal, ana that she had better never show the marks of her , 
 ten toes near my house again. 
 
 PATRICK McDALLOGH." 
 
 " P. S. Tim had better keep out of my sight." 
 
 Proclamation. The following is copied from a London paper, and purports to 
 be a proclamation from the mayor of one of the English cities, on occasion of an 
 expected visit of their majesties, William and Mary. We copy it verbatim, lite- 
 ratimque. 
 
 " Whereas his Majesty the King and Queen, is expected to honor this place with 
 their presense in the course of their Tower ! in order to prevent them from meeting 
 no Impediment in his way ; the worshipful, the Mare and Bailiff, have thought 
 proper that the following Regulations shall be prohibited as follows. Nobody must 
 not leave no Dust, nor nothing in that shape before their Doors nor shops, and all 
 the Wheelbarrows, Cabbadge stalks, Marble Stones and other Vegetables must be 
 Swept out of the streets. Any one who shall fail of giving offence in any of those 
 Articles, shall be dealt with according to Law, without Bail or Mainprize. 
 
 " God save his Majesty the King Queen 
 and His worship The mare." 
 
 A Quack Doctor's Advertisement. 
 
 To THE PUBLIK PEPLE. 
 
 In offerin of my sarvecis to my fello citesens as a publik sarvant, I would pur- 
 ticularly remark that I has fur these last nine munth past, pade the most strictest 
 cares and attentions to the study of phisik, and I do hope that my nateral turn and 
 abileties together with the most closest observation will mtitle me to the publik con- 
 fedence. ft wuld be rong in me to purtend to any high larnin for you all know that 
 I never rubbid my cote against these collidge walls, nur superintended any of these 
 United States lectur's for lite and knowlidge on phisical docterins. But I hope that 
 will be no objiction to me. There is a grate deal of these collidge fellows that noes 
 no more about an Epidemick oppuration than a 3 yere old colt, and if you was to 
 send wurd fur one of them to cum and see a pursun flat of his back with Apiplexy, 
 they wuld no doute give him cold water, which you well noe wuld produce an in- 
 stinataneous evaciation of the bowels. 
 
 My Medesons is Simples, consistin of horehoun, ambeer, gymsum weeds and 
 grean gord seeds, burdok, tanza, grean snake root and mullin and many other 
 plants of the same kimmical nater. I have had a good deal of pations a wail tin 
 on me, and if you just only give me a call I wuld even git up nite ur day fur to 
 sarve you. Your sarvant, DOCTUR PEA. 
 
 Knowledge. "Pleasure is a shadow; wealth is vanity, and power a pageant; 
 but knowledge is ecstatic in enjoyment, perennial in fame, unlimited in space, 
 and infinite in duration. * * *" * In the performance of its sacred offices, 
 it fears no danger, spares no expense, omits no exertion. It scales the mountain, 
 looks in the volcano, dives into the ocean, perforates the earth, wings its flight into 
 the skies, encircles the globe, explores sea and land, contemplates the distant, ex- 
 amines the minute, comprehends the great, ascends to the sublime; no place too 
 remote for its grasp, no neavens too exalted for its reach." De Witt Clinton. 
 
 Wonders of Philosophy. The polypus, like the fabled hydra, receives new life 
 from the knife which is lifted to destroy it. The fly-spider lays an egg as large as 
 itself. There are four thousand and forty-one muscles in a caterpillar. Hook dis-
 
 VARIETY. 
 
 207 
 
 covered fourteen thousand mirrors in the eyes of a drone ; and to effect the respi- 
 ration of a carp, thirteen thousand three hundred arteries, vessels, veins, and bones, 
 &c., are necessary. The body of every spider contains four little masses pierced 
 with a multitude of imperceptible holes, each hole permitting the passage of a 
 
 united. Lewenhoek, by means of microscopes, observed spiders no bigger than a 
 grain of sand, who spun thread so fine that it took four thousand of them to equal 
 in magnitude a single hair. London Courier. 
 
 Haydn. The poet Carpani once asked his friend Haydn " how it happened 
 that his church music was almost always of an animating, cheerful, and even gay 
 description." To this Haydn answered, '' I cannot make it otherwise : I write ac- 
 cording to the thoughts which I feel : when I think upon God, my heart is so full of 
 joy that the notes dance and leap as it were from my pen : and since God has 
 given me a cheerful heart, it will be easily forgiven me that I seek him with a 
 cheerful spirit." 
 
 Precepts. 
 
 When yet I was a child, upon my heart 
 My father laid two precepts "Boy, be brave ! 
 So in the midnight battle shall thou meet 
 Fearless the coming foe ! Boy, let thy heart 
 Be clean from falsenood ! In the midday sun 
 So shall thou never need from mortal man 
 To turn thy guilty face." Madoc. 
 
 Splendid Bedstead. There has been exhibited in the palace of the Tamedo. at 
 St. Petersburg!], a state bed, constructed al Ihe royal manufactory by order of the 
 emperor, to be senl as a presenl lo the Schah of Persia. It is formed of solid 
 crystal, resplendent with silver ornaments. Il is ascended by steps of blue glass, 
 and has a fountain underneath so contrived as to throw out, on each side, jets,ol odo- 
 riferous waters. The effect, when the chamber is lighted up, is absolutely dazzling, 
 ice of myriads of diamonds. Galiernani's Messenger. 
 
 as it has the appearance of myr 
 
 Impromptu. 
 
 Is there a heart that never sighed ? 
 Is there a tongue that never ned ? 
 Is there an eye that never blinked ? 
 Is there a man that never drinked ? 
 If so, then heart, and tongue, and eye 
 Must tell a most confounded lie. 
 
 Chances of Marriage. The following curious statement is taken from an Eng- 
 lish paper. It is drawn from Ihe regislered cases of eighl hundred and seventy- 
 six women, and is derived from their answers to Ihe age at which they respectively 
 married. It is the first ever construcled lo exhibil to females their chances of mar- 
 riage at various ages. Of the eight hundred and seventy-six females, there were 
 eight hundred and sixty-five married at the following ages : 
 
 3 at 13 
 11 14 
 
 16 15 
 43 16 
 45 17 
 66 18 
 115 19 
 
 118 at 20 
 
 86 21 
 85 22 
 59 23 
 53 24 
 36 25 
 24 26 
 
 28 at 27 
 22 28 
 17 29 
 9 30 
 7 31 
 5 32 
 7 33 
 
 6 at 34 
 
 2 36 
 36 
 2 37 
 38 
 1 39 
 , 40 
 
 Beautiful Extract. When I look upon the tombs of the great, every emotion 
 of envy dies within me ; when I read the epitaphs of the beautiful, every inordi- 
 nate desire goes out ; when I meet with the grief of parents upon the tombstone, 
 my heart melts with compassion ; when I see tombs of parents themselves, 1 con- 
 sider the vanity of grieving for those whom we must soon follow ; when I see kings
 
 208 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 , ' ' 
 
 lying with those who deposed them, when I consider rivals laid side by side, or the 
 holy men that divided the world with their disputes, I reflect with sorrow and 
 astonishment on the little competitions, factions, and debates of mankind ; when I 
 read the several dates of the tombs of some that died yesterday, and some sixteen 
 hundred years ago, I consider that great day, when we shall all of us be contempo- 
 raries, and make our appearance together. Addison. 
 
 A Touch of the Sublime. I rise, Mr. President, to argue the case of the rich 
 man and the poor man, and I believe, that before I shall have concluded, you will 
 allow that it admits of no argument. The rich man, Mr. President, declines his 
 emaciated form on a mahogany sofa, cut down, hewn out, carved, and manufac- 
 tured from the tall cedars of Lebanon, which grow upon the lofty and clpud-capt 
 summits of the ever memorable mountain of Jenosophat. Then, Mr. President, he 
 lifts to his cadaverous lip, the golden china cup manufactured, as is well known, 
 Mr. President, in Chili, Peru, and other unknown and uninhabitable parts of the 
 universe. While on the other hand, Mr. President, the poor man declines his ex- 
 pectation in a cottage, from which he retires to the shade of some umbrageous 
 stream there to contemplate the incomprehensibility of the vast constellation and 
 other fixed and immovable satelites that devolve around the celestial axletree of 
 this terraqueous firmament on high. Then, Mr. President, after calling around him 
 his wife, and the rest of his little children, he teaches them to perspire to scenes of 
 immortality beyond the grave. New Orleans Sun. 
 
 Curious Typographical Error. The celebrated printer, Henri Etienne, son of 
 Robert, (both known in the learned world by the name of Stephanus,) once engaged 
 in the printing of a splendid quarto Missal. The great number of subscribers 
 seemed likely to make ample compensation for the heavy expense required by the 
 undertaking. After the sheets had been corrected with the utmost care, the work 
 was printed off, splendidly bound, and delivered to the subscribers. It would be 
 impossible to describe the astonishment of the learned printer, when one copy after 
 another was returned to him, till all were sent back. He required the reason of 
 this extraordinary circumstance, and was informed that in one place the compositor 
 had put Id le pretre clera sa cullotte, (here the priest will take off his breeches,) in- 
 stead of calotte, (small black cap,) and the error escaped the correctors of the 
 press. In vain did the poor printer offer to make a cancel ; the subscribers, who 
 were almost all ecclesiastics, positively refused to take the work on any terms. 
 This unfortunate affair is said to have been the first and chief cause of the derange- 
 ment which afterwards caused Henri Etienne to be confined in the Lunatic Hospital 
 at Lyons, where he died in 1698. There is a copy of the Missal, with this unlucky 
 error, in the royal library at Paris. 
 
 Imprisonment for Debt. During the visit of an Indian chief to one of our cities, 
 he asked, on seeing the jail, " What is that building for ? " The interpreter, who 
 accompanied him, in order to render himself intelligible, observed, "that if a white 
 man owed skins and could not pay them, they put him in that building." The 
 chief, after a little reflection, replied dryly, "Hugh! white man no catch skins 
 there ! " 
 
 A Curious Blacksmith. In the twentieth year of Queen Elizabeth, Mark Sca- 
 Jiot, a blacksmith, made a lock consisting of eleven pieces of iron, steel, and brass, 
 all which, together with a pipe key attached to it, weighed but one grain. He also 
 made a chain of gold, consisting of forty-three links, whereunto having fastened 
 the lock and key before mentioned, he put the chain about a flea's neck, which 
 drew them all with ease. All these together, lock and key, chain and flea, being 
 weighed, the weight of them was but oiie grain and a half. 
 
 Reading. Give a man this taste, and the means of gratifying it, and you can 
 hardly fail of making him a happy man. You place him in contact with the best 
 society in every period of history. You make him a denizen of all nations a 
 contemporary of all ages. Sir J. Hersdiel. 
 
 Arab Beauty. Among these Arabs was one of the most beautiful girls I ever 
 saw, apparently about twenty years of age. She was of a dark complexion, eyes 
 black as jet; the inside of her eyelids was blackened with kohle ; her teeth were 
 white as ivory ; and her long hair fell down her neck and over her shoulders behind,
 
 VARIETY. 209 
 
 long enough for her to sit down upon. She had large silver earrings, and a silver 
 ring through her under lip, gently drawing it down and displaying her fine teeth. 
 Through her hair was passed a silver arrow, confining her veil to the top of her head, 
 which was thrown back negligently over her shoulders. She was habited in a long, 
 blue, loose shirt, open at the breast ; her bare arms were covered with bracelets and 
 amulets ; a string of beads wound round her neck ; her feet were bare, and two 
 large rings were fastened round her ankles. She walked, as all the Arab women 
 do, with a grace and beauty of carriage I never saw surpassed ; nor in simplicity 
 and elegance of appearance have I ever seen a fine lady of Europe, with her 
 jewels and pearls, equal this plain and simple Arab girl. Addison's Travels. 
 
 Friday. Columbus sailed from Spain on Friday, discovered land on Friday, 
 and reCntered the port of Palos on Friday. These curious coincidences should 
 have sufficed, one might think, to dispel the superstitious dread, still so prevalent, 
 of commencing a voyage on that ominous day. The keel of Old Ironsides was 
 laid on Friday, she was launched on Friday, went to sea on Friday, and fought 
 her first battle on Friday. 
 
 Honey Moon. Though this word is in common use, its derivation is little known, 
 as nothing respecting it is found in the dictionaries, or encyclopedias. Its origin is 
 from a custom of the Teutones, an ancient people of Germany, who drank mead, 
 or metheglin, a beverage made with honey, for thirty days after every wedding. 
 
 Origin of the word " Lady." Formerly, when the affluent, in England, lived 
 all the year round at their mansions in the country, the lady of the manor distribu- 
 ted to her poor neighbors, with her own hands, once a week, or oftener, a certain 
 quantity of bread ; and she was called by them the l?ff-day, that is, in the Saxon 
 language, the bread-giver. These two words were, in time, corrupted} and the 
 meaning is now as little known as the practice which gave it birth. 
 
 Bunkum. The Philadelphia World gives a very intelligible explanation of the 
 word "bunkum." It is a corruption of Buncombe, the name of the largest and 
 most westerly county of North Carolina. As this county is larger than any three 
 or four others in the state, the North Carolinians have long used it as a standard of 
 comparison ; and, therefore, when they wish to designate any thing as particularly 
 large, or as excelling, they say it is as large or equal to Buncombe, which they 
 pronounce bunkum. The people of the county, in sportive allusion to its size, call 
 it the State of Bunkum. They have divided" it into five districts, which they des- 
 ignate as follows : Upper Hog Thief, Lower Hog Thief, Promise Fair, Never 
 Pay, and Screamerville. 
 
 The Faithful Dos:. 1 Youatt's " Humanity to Brutes " is recorded the follow- 
 ing anecdote of a Newfoundland dog : 
 
 " A vessel was driven on the beach of Lloyd, in Kent. The surf was rolling 
 furiously. Eight poor fellows were crying for help, but not a boat could be got off 
 to their assistance. At length a gentlemen came to the beach, accompanied by his 
 Newfoundland dog. He directed the attention of the animal to the vessel, and put 
 a short stick into his mouth. The intelligent and courageous fellow at once under- 
 stood his meaning, and sprang into the sea, and fought his way through the waves. 
 He could not, however, get close enough at the vessel to deliver that with which 
 he was charged; but the crew joyfully made fast a rope to another piece of wood, 
 and threw it towards him. He saw the whole business in an instant ; he dropped 
 his own piece, and immediately seized that which had been cast to him ; and then, 
 with a degree of strength and determination almost incredible, he dragged it through 
 the surf and delivered it to his master. A line of communication was then formed, 
 and every man on board was rescued from a watery grave." 
 
 Tattlers. Tattlers and talc-bearers of every description are the most despicable 
 wretches with which the world is cursed. Show us a man that cannot or will not 
 keep a secret, and you show us a villain unworthy the friendship of a dog. There 
 is more mischief done in the world by these bleating, wide-mouthed retailers of 
 other men's concerns, than by all the robbers and pickpockets in the universe. 
 Spies and informers are worthy of no commiseration, however miserable and 
 degraded they may become. " There is no worse devil," said Jeremy Taylor, 
 " than a devilish tongue." 
 
 18*
 
 210 THE FAMILY VISITOR, 
 
 A Name. The Woods of Lancashire are a distinguished family, for character, 
 wealth, and talent. A laughable circumstance took place upon a trial in Lan- 
 cashire, where the head of the family, Mr. Wood, senior, was examined as a wit- 
 ness. Upon giving his name, Ottiwell Wood, the judge, addressing him, said, 
 " Pray, Mr. Wood, how do you spell your name ? " The old gentleman replied, 
 
 double T 
 
 1 double U 
 E double L 
 
 Double U 
 
 Double O D. 
 
 Upon which the astonished lawgiver laid down his pen, saying it was the most ex- 
 traordinary name he had ever met with in his life, and, after two or three attempts, 
 declared he was unable lo record it. London paper. 
 
 Example. The influence of the good man ceases not at death : he, as the 
 visible agent, is removed, but the light and influence of his example still remains ; 
 and the moral elements of this wond will long show the traces of their vigor and 
 purity, just as the western sky, after the sun has set, still displays the glowing 
 traces of the departed orb. 
 
 Power of Steam. One pound of cotton, says Mr. Gordon, in his lectures at the 
 London Literary and Scientific Institution, which formerly could only be spun into 
 a thread of one hundred and eighty yards long, can now, by the application of 
 steam, produce a thread of one hundred and sixty-seven miles in length. 
 
 Reward of Bravery. During Bonaparte's time seventeen private soldiers raised 
 themselves, by their bravery and talents, to the highest stations of honor and profit. 
 Two became kings, two princes, nine dukes, two field marshals, and two generals. 
 
 Religion. "I envy no quality of the mind, or intellect, of others ; not genius, 
 power, wit, or fancy ; but if I could choose what would be most delightful, and I 
 believe most useful to me, I prefer a firm religious belief to every other blessing; 
 for it makes discipline of goodness ; creates new hopes, when earthly hopes vanish ; 
 and throws over the decay, the destruction of existence, the most gorgeous of all 
 lights ; awakens life in death, and from corruption and decay calls up beauty and 
 divinity ; makes an instrument of torture and of shame the ladder of ascent to 
 paradise ; and, far above all combinations of earthly hopes, calls up the most de- 
 lightful visions of palms and amaranths, (fce gardens of the blest, the security of 
 everlasting joys, where the sensualist and skeptic only view gloom, decay, annihi- 
 lation, and despair ! " Sir Humphrey Davy. 
 
 Trade. There is not, says Addison, a more useful class in society than MER- 
 CHANTS. They knit mankind together in a mutual intercourse of good offices, 
 distribute the gifts of nature, find work for the laborer, augment the wealth of the 
 nation, and increase the comforts and conveniences of life. 
 
 " To censure trade, 
 Or hold her busy people in contempt, 
 Let none presume ; 
 
 Trade to the good physician gives his balms ; 
 Gives cheering cordials to the afflicted heart ; 
 Gives to the wealthy delicacies high ; 
 Gives to the curious works of nature rare; 
 And the priest displays, in just discourse, 
 HIM, the all-wise Creator, and declares 
 His pleasure, power, and goodness, unconfined. 
 'Tis trade, attentive voyager, who fills 
 His lips with argument." 
 
 The Alphabet. The twenty-four letters of the alphabet may be transposed 
 620,448,401 ,733,239,439,360,000 times. All the inhabitants of the globe, on a rough 
 calculation, could not, in a thousand million of years, write out all the transpo- 
 sitions of the twenty-four letters, even supposing that each wrole forty pages daily, 
 each of which pages contained forty different transpositions of the letters.
 
 VARIETY. 211 
 
 Ancient Charter. A charier granted by Malcolm Canmore, king of Scotland. 
 I, Malcome Kenmure King, the 1st of my reign Give to thee Baron Hunter, Upper 
 and Nether Powmode, with all the bounds within the floods^ with the Hoope and 
 Hoopetown, and all the bounds up and down above the earth to heaven and all 
 below the earth to hell as free to thee and thine, as ever God gave to me and 
 mine and that for a bow and broad arrow when I come to hunt upon Yarrow 
 and for the more sooth of this, 1 byte the white wax with my teeth, before Margaret 
 my wife, and Maule, my nurse Sic Subscribitur. Malcome Kenmure King. 
 
 Margaret, witness. 
 
 Maule, witness. 
 1057. 
 
 Slander. He who can choke the sweet flowers of social love, and taint them 
 with disease; or in the paradise of earthly bliss, where the plants of virtue flourish, 
 spread the blight and mildew of desolation, hatred, and distrust; who can crush his 
 neighbor's fame to dust, and build on its ruins ; who can write infamy upon the brow 
 of others, to prove his own purity, is neither man nor beast, but a heartless fiend. 
 Those who have seen their dearest interests tampered with ; who know what it is 
 to have the priceless gem of a good name sullied by the poisonous breath of cold, 
 unpitying slander, these best can say he has no heart. If the lightning's flash ever 
 darts from heaven to strike the guilty down, it will blast the nope of murderers 
 such as these. Sir Matthew Hale. 
 
 God alone can pardon Sin. 
 A parent asked a priest his boy to bless, 
 Who forthwith charged him that he must confess. 
 " Well," said the boy, " suppose, sir, I am willing ; 
 What is your charge ? " " To you, 'tis but a shuMing." 
 " Must all men pay ? and all men make confession ? " 
 " Yes ! every man of Catholic profession." 
 " And whom do you confess to ? " " Why, the dean." 
 " And does he charge you ? " " Yes ! a whole thirteen." 
 " And do the deans confess ? " " Yes, boy, they do 
 Confess to bishops, and pay smartly too." 
 " Do bishops, sir, confess ? If so, to whom ? " 
 " Why, they confess, and pay the church of Rome." 
 " Well," quoth the boy, " all this is mighty odd ! 
 And does the pope confess ? " " O, yes ! to God ! " 
 " And does God charge the pope ? " " No ! " quoth the priest, 
 " God charges nothing." " O, then, God is best : 
 
 GOD can forgive, and He is always willing; 
 To Him I shall confess and save my shilling.'' 
 
 Labor to make a Watch. Mr. Dent, in a lecture delivered before the London 
 Royal Institute, made an allusion to the formation of a watch, and stated that a 
 watch consisted of 992 pieces ; and that 43 trades, and probably 215 persons, are 
 employed in making one of these little machines. The iron of which the balance- 
 spring" is formed, is valued at something less than a farthing ; this produces an 
 ounce of steel worth 4Arf., which is drawn into 2,250 yards of steel wire, and repre- 
 sents in the market 1$. is. ; but still another process of hardening this originally 
 farthing's worth of iron, renders it workable into 7,650 balance-springs, which will 
 realize, at the common price of 2s. 6d. each, 9467. 5*., the effect of labor alone. 
 Thus it may be seen that the mere labor bestowed upon one farthing's worth of 
 iron, gives it the value of 950/. 5s., or $4,552, which is 75,680 times its original 
 value. 
 
 Intermarriage. A Mr. Williams, of Doncaster, England, had two daughters by 
 his first wife, who was deceased. The eldest daughter married Mr. John Wiley, 
 the son, and the younger daughter married Mr. John Wiley, the father, a widower. 
 The elder Wiley had a daughter by his first wife, whom old Mr. Williams married, 
 and by her had a son. Therefore, the elder Wiley's wife could say, My father is 
 my son, and I am my mother's mother ; my sister is my daughter, and I am grand- 
 mother to my brother.
 
 212 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 An old-fashioned Marriage Portion. Captain John Hull, who was one of the 
 first founders of the Old South Church, Boston, was a man of wealth. A daughter 
 of his was married to Major Samuel Sewall, in 1640. As usual in those days, the 
 father was expected to give his daughter a marriage portion. So father Hull, after 
 his daughter was richly dressed and prepared for the ceremony, caused her to be 
 put into one side of a large pair of scales, in the presence of her friends, and then 
 piled on dollars and crowns, and other silver money, until they weighed her down. 
 As she was plump and heavy, this must have been a fat marriage portion in those 
 days. 
 
 A new Way of applying Leeches. " Well, my good woman," said the doctor, 
 " how is your husband to-day ? Better, no doubt." 
 
 " O, yes, surely," said the woman, " he is as well as ever, and gone to the 
 field." 
 
 " 1 thought so," continued the doctor. " The leeches have cured him. Won- 
 derful effect they have. You got the leeches, of course." 
 
 " O, yes, they did him a great deal of good, though he could not take them 
 all." 
 
 " Take them all ! Why, my good woman, how did you apply them ? " 
 
 " O, I managed nicely," said the wife, looking quite contented with herself. 
 " For variety's sake, I boiled one half, and made a fry of the other. The first he 
 got down very well, but the second made him very sick. But what he took was 
 quite enough," continued she, seeing some horror in the doctor's countenance, " for 
 he was better the next morning, and to-day he is quite well." 
 
 " Umph," said the doctor, with a sapient shake of the head, " if they have cured 
 him, that is sufficient, but they would have been better applied externally." 
 
 Love of Tobacco. The following is a genuine letter from a sailor, on his return 
 from an India voyage : 
 
 " Warren Hasting East Indyman, off G-ravesend. 
 
 " DEAR BROTHER TOM, This cums hopin to find you in good health as it 
 leaves me safe anchored here yesterday at P. M. after a pleasant voyage tolerble 
 short and few squalls Dear Tom, Hopes to find poor old father stout, and am 
 quite out of pig-tail. Sights of pig-tail at Gravesend, but unfortunately not fit 
 for a dog to chor Dear Tom, Captain's boy will bring you this and put pig-tail in 
 his pocket when bort. Best in London at the black boy in 7 diles, where go, acks 
 for the best pig-tail pound pig-tail will do, and am short of shirts. Dear Tom, 
 as for shirts only took two whereof one is quite worn out, tuther most ; but don't 
 forget the pig-tail, as 1 not had a quid to ehor, never since Thursday. Dear Tom, 
 as for the shirts, your size will do only longer. I like um long get one at 
 present ; best at Tower hill, and cheap. But be particular to go to seven Diles for 
 the pig-tail at the black boy and Hear Tom, acks, for pound best pig-tail, and let 
 it be good. Captain's boy will put the pig-tail in his pocket, he likes pig-tail so 
 ty it up Dear Tom, shall be up about Monday, or there abouts. Not so particu- 
 lar for the shirt, as the present can be washed, but don't forget the pig-tail without 
 fail, so am your loving brother. 
 
 P. S. Don't forget the pig-tail. 
 
 Expedient. A measure of some political importance was suggested to her 
 majesty, Queen Victoria, as very expedient at the present moment. " Tell me," 
 was her answer, with some little indignation, " whether it be right or wrong ; if it 
 be right, I will do it ; if wrong, I will not ; but never let me hear the word ex- 
 pedient." 
 
 Beatttiful Idea. The wild man of Oronoke said to a priest, Thou keepest thy 
 God in thy church, as though he were sick and needed thy care. Our God is on 
 the mountain top, directing the storm, and guarding us in the still watches of the 
 night. 
 
 Tea. In 1CG3, the East India Company " imported 100 pounds weight of good 
 tey." In 1669, they imported 143J pounds, and in 1678,4,713 pounds; but this 
 proved a glut in the market. Great Britain now imports annually about 23,000,000 
 pounds of tea, and the United Slates from 12 to 15,000,000 pounds.
 
 VARIETY. 
 
 213 
 
 Flowering of Fruit Trees. 
 
 
 Year. 
 
 Poach. 
 
 Cherry. 
 
 Jlpple. 
 
 Brunswick, Maine,. 
 
 1839 
 
 
 May 14 
 
 May 21 
 
 Cambridge, Mass. 
 Peril) Amboy, N. J. 
 
 1837 
 
 April 27, begin. 
 May 1 
 
 April 27, begin. 
 May 5 
 
 May 10, begin. 
 " 14 
 
 n 
 
 1838 
 
 " 6 
 
 " 8 
 
 " 16 
 
 it u it 
 
 1839 
 
 April 19 
 
 April 22 
 
 April 28 
 
 Near Philadelphia, Pa. 
 
 1838 
 
 May 1 
 
 May 1 
 
 May 20 
 
 u a .< 
 
 1839 
 
 April 10 
 
 April 12 
 
 April 25 
 
 Baltimore, Md. 
 
 " 
 
 8 
 
 
 " 15 
 
 Norwalk, Ohio, 
 
 u 
 
 " 18 
 
 April 20 
 
 " 27 
 
 Camden, S. C. 
 
 u 
 
 3Iarch 22 
 
 
 " 10 
 
 Little Rock, Ark. 
 
 a 
 
 Feb. 16 
 
 
 March 10 
 
 Man and Woman. Man is strong ; woman is beautiful. Man is daring and 
 confident ; woman is diffident and unassuming. Man is great in action ; woman 
 in suffering. Man shines abroad; woman at home. Man talks to convince j wo- 
 man to persuade and please. Man has a rugged heart ; woman a soft and tender 
 one. Man prevents misery ; woman relieves it. Man has science ; woman taste. 
 Man has judgment ; woman sensibility. Man is a being of justice ; woman of 
 mercy. Sat. Mag. 
 
 Diamonds. The largest ancient diamond belongs to the House of Braganza ; 
 it weighs 1680 carats, and, if it be really a gem, is worth nearly 300,000,000/. ! 
 The celebrated Pitt diamond, now one of the crown jewels of France, was pur- 
 chased in India by Mr. Thomas Pitt, ancestor of the Chatham family, when gov- 
 ernor of Madras, in 1701. In consequence of an accusation, that he procured it 
 unfairly, Mr. Pitt detailed the mode in which he came by it. He states that Jam- 
 chund, an eminent diamond merchant, came to him and offered for sale a large 
 rough stone for 80,0001. After repeated haggling at subsequent visits, he says he 
 bought it for 19,000/., " for which he paid nim honorably, as by his books ap- 
 peared." This diamond, which is admitted to approach very nearly to one of the 
 first water, and weighs 136 carats, was sold, in 1717, to the duke of Orleans for 
 185,000/. The diamond which studs the sceptre of the autocrat of Russia is 
 stated to have been stolen by an Irish soldier, from an Indian idol (Juggernaut) in 
 Bengal, whose eye it had long been. The soldier parted with it for a trifle, and 
 atter passing through several hands, it was finally sold to the Empress Catharine 
 of Russia, for 90,000/., an annuity of 4000/., and a patent of nobility. 
 
 Cultivation of Sugar. " The gross product of one hand, on a well-regulated 
 sug-ar estate in Louisiana, is put down at the cultivation of five acres, producing 
 5,000 Ibs. of sugar, and 125 gallons of molasses ; the former valued, on the spot, 
 at 5J cents per pound, and the latter at 18 cents per gallon, together, $297 .50. 
 
 "The annual expense of each hand, including wages paid, horses, mules, and 
 oxen, physician's bills, &c., is 105. An estate with 80 negroes, annually costs 
 $8,330. The items are as follows : salt meat, spirits, $830 ; clothing of all sorts, 
 $1,200; medical attendance and medicines, $400 ; Indian corn, $1,000 ; overseer's 
 and sugar-maker's salary, $1,000 ; taxes, $300 ; annual loss on a capital of $50,000 
 in negroes, at 2J per cent., $1,250; horses and oxen, $1,500; repairs of boilers, 
 $550; do. of ploughs, carts, &c., $300; Total, $8,330. 
 
 " Fifteen acres are required for each hand. 5 for cultivation in cane, 5 in fallow, 
 or rest, and 5 in wood-land. The annual consumption of wood, on an estate 
 worked by 80 negroes, is 800 cords. Two crops of cane are generally made in 
 succession on the same land, one of plant cane, the other of ratoon ; it then lies 
 fallow two years, or is planted in corn or peas. One hand will tend 5 acres, be- 
 sides cutting his proportion of wood and ploughing 2 acres of fallow ground. 
 
 The capital vested in 1,200 acres of land, with its stock of slaves, horses, mules, 
 and working oxen, is estimated at $147,200. One third, or 400 acres, being culti- 
 vated in cane, yields 400,000 pounds, at 5 cents, and 10,000 gallons of mplasses, 
 at 18 cents, together, $23,800; deduct annual expenses as before, $8,330, leav- 
 ing an apparent profit of $15,470, or 10* per cent., as interest on the investment."
 
 214 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 Value of Time. In our dealings with each other there is nothing which we so 
 miscalculate as the ever-varying value of time ; and, indeed, it is but too natural 
 to look upon it as it seems to us, and not as it seems to others. The slow idler, on 
 whose hands ii hangs heavily, holds the man of business by the button, and re- 
 morselessly robs him on the king's highway of a thing ten times more valuable than 
 ilie pursr, which would hang him if he took it. The man of action and of business, 
 ivliose days seem but moments, forgets in his dealings with the long-expecting ap- 
 plicant and the weary petitioner, that to them each moment is far longer than his 
 day. James's Henry of Guise. 
 
 The Vale of Ovoca. 
 
 " There is not in the wide world a valley so sweet 
 As that vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet ; 
 O, the last rays of feeling and life must depart, 
 Ere the bloom of that valley shall fade from my heart. 
 
 'Twas that friends, the beloved of my bosom, were near, 
 Who made every dear scene of enchantment more dear j 
 And who felt how the best charms of nature improve, 
 When we see them reflected from looks that we love. 
 
 Sweet vale of Ovoca ! how calm could I rest 
 
 In thy bosom of shade, with the friends I love best ! 
 
 Where the storms which we feel in this cold world should cease. 
 
 And our hearts, like thy waters, be mingled in peace." 
 
 Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright. 
 
 Bridal of earth and sky, 
 The dew shall weep thy fall to-night, 
 
 For thou, alas ! must die. 
 
 Sweet rose, in air whose odors wave, 
 
 And colors charm the eye, 
 Thy root is ever in its grave, 
 
 Por thou, alas ! must die. 
 
 Sweet spring, of days and roses made, 
 
 Whose charms for beauty vie, 
 Thy days depart, thy roses fade ; 
 
 Thou too, alas ! must die. 
 
 Be wise then, Christian, while you may, 
 
 For swiAly time is flying : 
 The thoughtless man, that laughs to-day, 
 To-morrow may be dying. 
 
 Varied front Herbert, 
 by liishop Home.
 
 STATISTICS OF THE PRESS. 215 
 
 STATISTICS OF THE PRESS IN THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 The AMERICAN ALMANAC, a periodical publication, noted in both 
 hemispheres for its accuracy and value, says, that the countries in 
 which the business of publishing books is carried on to the greatest 
 extent, are Germany, England, France, and the United States ; and 
 that from 1828 to 1837, a period of nine years, the number of vol- 
 umes of new publications issued in Great Britain, exclusive of re- 
 prints and pamphlets, was 13,601, or 1511 volumes annually; valued 
 at about two millions and a half of dollars. 
 
 Tiie number of new publications in the United States, in 1836, was 
 about 1400, the value of which varied but little from two millions 
 of dollars. It is stated that the amount of literary productions, in 
 America, has more than doubled during the last ten years. 
 
 " The Periodical Press, comprising newspapers, magazines, reviews, 
 &c., devoted to religion, politics, literature, arts, science, intelligence, 
 amusements, &c., forms a remarkable feature of the modern state of 
 society, and is one of the most momentous consequences of the invention 
 of the art of printing. Periodical publications, especially newspapers, 
 disseminate knowledge throughout all classes of society, and exert an 
 amazing influence in forming and giving effect to public opinion in all 
 civilized countries." 
 
 We have been favored by Freeman Hunt, Esq., the erudite and 
 indefatigable editor of the MERCHANTS' MAGAZINE, (a work which, 
 we rejoice to learn, is finding a place in all our counting-houses, 
 reading-rooms, and libraries,) with 
 
 "The following information, respecting the number of newspapers, 
 magazines, and other periodicals, published in the United States on the 
 1st July, 1839, derived from returns made to the General Post Office at 
 Washington : 
 
 Maine 41 
 
 New Hampshire 26 
 
 Vermont 31 
 
 Massachusetts [at Boston, 63] .... 124 
 
 Rhode Island 14 
 
 Connecticut 31 
 
 New York [at New York city, 71] . 274 
 
 New Jersey 39 
 
 Maryland [at Baltimore, 20] 48 
 
 Pennsylvania [at Philadelphia, 71] . 253 
 
 Delaware 3 
 
 Dist. Columbia [at Washington, 11]. 1C 
 
 Virginia [at Richmond, JO] 52 
 
 North Carolina 30 
 
 South Carolina . .... 20 
 
 Georgia 33 
 
 Florida Territory 9 
 
 Alabama 34 
 
 Mississippi ! 36 
 
 Louisiana [at New Orleans, 10] . . 26 
 
 Arkansas 4 
 
 Triino-isec 50 
 
 Kentucky 31 
 
 Ohio [at'Cincinnati, 27] 16-1 
 
 Michigan 31 
 
 Wisconsin Territory .5 
 
 Iowa Territory 3 
 
 Indiana G9 
 
 Illinois 33 
 
 Missouri 25 
 
 1555 
 
 " Of the above, 116 are published daily, 14 tri- weekly, 39 semi-weekly, 
 991 once a week. The remainder are issued quarterly, monthly, and 
 semi-monthly ; principally magazines and reviews. Many of the daily 
 papers also issue tri-weeklies, semi-weeklies, and weeklies. Thirty-eight 
 are in the German language, four in the French, and one in the Spanish. 
 Several of the New Orleans papers are printed in French and English."
 
 AT SIX PER CENT., 
 
 From $1 to $16* 
 
 Prin- 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 5 
 
 6 
 
 7 
 
 8 
 
 9 
 
 10 
 
 11 
 
 12 
 
 13 
 
 14 
 
 15 
 
 16 
 
 cipal. 
 
 D. 
 
 D. 
 
 D. 
 
 D. 
 
 D. 
 
 D. 
 
 D. 
 
 D. 
 
 D. 
 
 D. 
 
 D. 
 
 D. 
 
 D. 
 
 D. 
 
 D. 
 
 D. 
 
 Yrs. 1 
 
 6 
 
 12 
 
 18 
 
 24 
 
 30 
 
 36 
 
 42 
 
 48 
 
 54 
 
 60 
 
 66 
 
 72 
 
 78 
 
 84 
 
 90 
 
 96 
 
 2 
 
 12 
 
 24 
 
 36 
 
 48 
 
 60 
 
 72 
 
 84 
 
 96 
 
 108 
 
 120 
 
 132 
 
 144 
 
 156 
 
 168 
 
 180 
 
 192 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 18 
 24 
 
 36 
 
 48 
 
 54 
 72 
 
 72 
 96 
 
 90 
 120 
 
 108 
 144 
 
 126 
 168 
 
 144 
 192 
 
 162 
 
 216 
 
 ISO 
 240 
 
 198 
 264 
 
 216 
 
 288 
 
 234 
 312 
 
 252 
 336 
 
 270 
 360 
 
 288 
 334 
 
 5 
 
 30 
 
 60 
 
 90 
 
 120 
 
 150 
 
 180 
 
 210 
 
 240 
 
 270 
 
 .300 
 
 330 
 
 360 
 
 390 
 
 420 
 
 450 
 
 480 
 
 Mo. 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 4 
 
 5 
 
 5 
 
 6 
 
 6 
 
 7 
 
 7 
 
 8 
 
 8 
 
 2 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 5 
 
 6 
 
 7 
 
 8 
 
 9 
 
 10 
 
 11 
 
 12 
 
 13 
 
 14 
 
 15 
 
 1G 
 
 3 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 5 
 
 6 
 
 8 
 
 9 
 
 11 
 
 12 
 
 14 
 
 15 
 
 17 
 
 18 
 
 20 
 
 21 
 
 23 
 
 24 
 
 4 
 
 2 
 
 4 
 
 6 
 
 8 
 
 10 
 
 12 
 
 14 
 
 16 
 
 18 
 
 20 
 
 22 
 
 24 
 
 26 
 
 28 
 
 30 
 
 32 
 
 5 
 
 3 
 
 5 
 
 8 
 
 10 
 
 13 
 
 15 
 
 18 
 
 20 
 
 23 
 
 25 
 
 28 
 
 30 
 
 33 
 
 35 
 
 38 
 
 40 
 
 6 
 
 3 
 
 6 
 
 9 
 
 12 
 
 15 
 
 18 
 
 21 
 
 24 
 
 27 
 
 30 
 
 33 
 
 36 
 
 39 
 
 42 
 
 45 
 
 48 
 
 7 
 
 4 
 
 7 
 
 11 
 
 14 
 
 IS 
 
 21 
 
 25 
 
 28 
 
 32 
 
 35 
 
 39 
 
 42 
 
 46 
 
 49 
 
 53 
 
 56 
 
 8 
 
 4 
 
 8 
 
 12 
 
 16 
 
 20 
 
 24 
 
 28 
 
 32 
 
 36 
 
 40 
 
 44 
 
 48 
 
 52 
 
 56 
 
 60 
 
 64 
 
 9 
 
 5 
 
 9 
 
 14 
 
 18 
 
 23 
 
 27 
 
 32 
 
 36 
 
 41 
 
 45 
 
 50 
 
 54 
 
 59 
 
 63 
 
 68 
 
 72 
 
 10 
 
 5 
 
 10 
 
 15 
 
 20 
 
 25 
 
 30 
 
 35 
 
 40 
 
 45 
 
 50 
 
 55 
 
 60 
 
 65 
 
 70 
 
 75 
 
 80 
 
 11 
 
 6 
 
 11 
 
 17 
 
 22 
 
 23 
 
 33 
 
 39 
 
 44 
 
 50 
 
 55 
 
 61 
 
 66 
 
 72 
 
 77 
 
 83 
 
 88 
 
 12 
 
 6 
 
 12 
 
 18 
 
 24 
 
 30 
 
 36 
 
 42 
 
 48 
 
 54 
 
 60 
 
 66 
 
 72 
 
 78 
 
 84 
 
 90 
 
 96 
 
 Days 1 
 
 
 
 Q 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 2 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 3 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 4 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 6 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 J 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 6 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 7 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 8 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 9 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 ] 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 10 
 
 
 
 t 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 15 
 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 8 
 
 4 
 
 4 
 
 20 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 8 
 
 4 
 
 4 
 
 4 
 
 5 
 
 5 
 
 6 
 
 30 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 4 
 
 6 
 
 5 
 
 6 
 
 6 
 
 7 
 
 7 
 
 8 
 
 3:5 
 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 4 
 
 5 
 
 B 
 
 6 
 
 7 
 
 7 
 
 8 
 
 8 
 
 9 
 
 40 
 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 5 
 
 5 
 
 6 
 
 7 
 
 7 
 
 8 
 
 9 
 
 9 
 
 10 
 
 11 
 
 50 
 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 5 
 
 6 
 
 7 
 
 7 
 
 8 
 
 9 
 
 10 
 
 11 
 
 12 
 
 12 
 
 13 
 
 60 
 
 
 2 
 
 8 
 
 4 
 
 5 
 
 6 
 
 7 
 
 8 
 
 9 
 
 10 
 
 11 
 
 12 
 
 13 
 
 14 
 
 15 
 
 16 
 
 63 
 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 5 
 
 6 
 
 7 
 
 8 
 
 9 
 
 10 
 
 11 
 
 12 
 
 13 
 
 14 
 
 16 
 
 17 
 
 70 
 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 5 
 
 6 
 
 7 
 
 8 
 
 9 
 
 10 
 
 12 
 
 13 
 
 14 
 
 15 
 
 16 
 
 17 
 
 18 
 
 80 
 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 5 
 
 7 
 
 8 
 
 9 
 
 11 
 
 12 
 
 13 
 
 14 
 
 16 
 
 17 
 
 18 
 
 20 
 
 21 
 
 90 
 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 6 
 
 7 
 
 9 
 
 10 
 
 12 
 
 13 
 
 15 
 
 16 
 
 18 
 
 19 
 
 21 
 
 22 
 
 24 
 
 93 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 5 
 
 6 
 
 8 
 
 9 
 
 11 
 
 12 
 
 14 
 
 15 
 
 17 
 
 18 
 
 20 
 
 21 
 
 23 
 
 24 
 
 95 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 5 
 
 6 
 
 8 
 
 9 
 
 11 
 
 12 
 
 14 
 
 16 
 
 17 
 
 19 
 
 20 
 
 22 
 
 23 
 
 25 
 
 98 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 5 
 
 6 
 
 8 
 
 10 
 
 11 
 
 13 
 
 14 
 
 16 
 
 18 
 
 19 
 
 21 
 
 23 
 
 24 
 
 26 
 
 100 
 
 2 
 
 8 
 
 5 
 
 7 
 
 8 
 
 10 
 
 12 
 
 13 
 
 15 
 
 16 
 
 18 
 
 20 
 
 21 
 
 23 
 
 25 
 
 26 
 
 200 
 
 3 
 
 7 
 
 10 
 
 13 
 
 16 
 
 20 
 
 23 
 
 26 
 
 30 
 
 33 
 
 36 
 
 39 
 
 43 
 
 46 
 
 49 
 
 53 
 
 300 
 
 5 
 
 10 
 
 15 
 
 20 
 
 25 
 
 30 
 
 35 
 
 39 
 
 44 
 
 40 
 
 54 
 
 59 
 
 64 
 
 69 
 
 74 
 
 79 
 
 * For Explanation, sea p. 220.
 
 INTEREST TABLES. 
 Interest Tablesfrom 17 to 90. 
 
 217 
 
 Prin- 
 
 17 
 
 18 
 
 19 
 
 20 
 
 30 
 
 40 
 
 50 
 
 60 
 
 70 
 
 75 
 
 80 
 
 90 
 
 cipal. 
 
 D. 
 
 D. 
 
 D. 
 
 D. 
 
 D. 
 
 D. 
 
 D. 
 
 Dols. 
 
 Dols. 
 
 Dols. 
 
 Dols. 
 
 Dols. 
 
 Yrs. 1 
 
 102 
 
 108 
 
 114 
 
 120 
 
 1 80 
 
 2 40 
 
 3 00 
 
 3 CO 
 
 4 20 
 
 4 50 
 
 4 80 
 
 5 40 
 
 2 
 
 204 
 
 216 
 
 228 2 1C 
 
 i 60 
 
 4 80 
 
 6 00 
 
 7 20 
 
 8 40 
 
 9 00 
 
 9 60 
 
 10 90 
 
 3 
 
 30i"i -2 1 
 
 ! 12 ::(ii: 
 
 5 40 
 
 7 20 
 
 9 00 
 
 10 80 
 
 12 60 
 
 13 50 
 
 4 40 
 
 16 20 
 
 4 
 
 ws 
 
 510 
 
 
 456 
 570 
 
 80 
 00 
 
 7 20 
 9 00 
 
 y co 
 
 2 00 
 
 2 00 
 5 00 
 
 14 40 
 18 00 
 
 16 SO 
 21 00 
 
 18 00 
 22 50 
 
 9 20 
 
 i 00 
 
 21 60 
 27 00 
 
 Mo. 1 
 
 9 
 
 9 
 
 10 
 
 10 
 
 15 
 
 20 
 
 25 
 
 30 
 
 35 
 
 38 
 
 40 
 
 45 
 
 2 
 
 17 
 
 18 
 
 19 
 
 20 
 
 30 
 
 40 
 
 50 
 
 60 
 
 70 
 
 75 
 
 80 
 
 90 
 
 
 26 
 
 27 
 
 29 
 
 30 
 
 45 
 
 60 
 
 75 
 
 90 
 
 1 05 
 
 1 13 
 
 1 20 
 
 1 35 
 
 4 
 
 84 
 
 36 
 
 38 
 
 40 
 
 60 
 
 80 
 
 1 00 
 
 1 20 
 
 1 40 
 
 1 50 
 
 1 60 
 
 1 80 
 
 5 
 
 43 
 
 45 
 
 48 
 
 50 
 
 75 
 
 1 00 
 
 1 25 
 
 1 50 
 
 1 75 
 
 1 88 
 
 2 00 
 
 2 25 
 
 6 
 
 51 
 
 54 
 
 57 
 
 60 
 
 90 
 
 1 20 
 
 1 50 
 
 1 80 
 
 2 10 
 
 2 25 
 
 2 40 
 
 2 70 
 
 7 
 
 GO 
 
 63 
 
 67 
 
 70 
 
 1 05 
 
 1 40 
 
 1 75 
 
 2 10 
 
 2 45 
 
 2 63 
 
 2 30 
 
 3 15 
 
 8 
 
 68 
 
 72 
 
 76 
 
 80 
 
 1 20 
 
 1 60 
 
 2 00 
 
 2 40 
 
 2 80 
 
 3 00 
 
 3 20 
 
 3 6.0 
 
 77 
 
 81 
 
 86 
 
 90 
 
 1 35 
 
 1 80 
 
 2 25 
 
 2 70 
 
 3 15 
 
 3 38 
 
 3 60 
 
 4 05 
 
 10 85 
 
 90 
 
 95 
 
 100 
 
 1 50 
 
 2 00 
 
 2 50 
 
 3 00 
 
 3 50 
 
 3 75 
 
 4 00 
 
 4 50 
 
 11 94 
 
 99 
 
 105 
 
 110 
 
 1 65 
 
 2 20 
 
 2 75 
 
 8 30 
 
 3 85 
 
 4 13 
 
 4 40 
 
 4 95 
 
 1'2 102 
 
 108 114 
 
 120 
 
 1 80 
 
 2 40 
 
 3 00 
 
 3 60| 4 20 
 
 4 50 
 
 4 80 
 
 5 dO 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 
 Daysl 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 o 
 
 2 
 
 8 
 
 3 
 
 < 
 
 4 
 
 4 
 
 4 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 e 
 
 I 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 
 
 5 
 
 5 
 
 6 
 
 5 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 t 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 5 
 
 6 
 
 6 
 
 7 
 
 7 
 
 8 
 
 5 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 5 
 
 6 
 
 7 
 
 7 
 
 8 
 
 9 
 
 7 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 1 
 
 5 
 
 6 
 
 7 
 
 8 
 
 c 
 
 9 
 
 10 
 
 8 
 
 '. 
 
 2 
 
 ' 
 
 3 
 
 / 
 
 5 
 
 7 
 
 8 
 
 9 
 
 10 
 
 11 
 
 12 
 
 9 
 
 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 t 
 
 6 
 
 7 
 
 9 
 
 10 
 
 11 
 
 12 
 
 13 
 
 to 
 
 * 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 5 
 
 7 
 
 S 
 
 10 
 
 12 
 
 12 
 
 13 
 
 15 
 
 15 
 
 t 
 
 4 
 
 5 
 
 5 
 
 i 
 
 10 
 
 12 
 
 15 
 
 17 
 
 18 
 
 20 
 
 22 
 
 20 
 
 6 
 
 6 
 
 6 
 
 7 
 
 10 
 
 13 
 
 16 
 
 20 
 
 23 
 
 25 
 
 26 
 
 30 
 
 30 
 
 8 
 
 9 
 
 9 
 
 10 
 
 15 
 
 20 
 
 25 
 
 30 
 
 35 
 
 37 
 
 39 
 
 44 
 
 33 
 
 9 
 
 10 
 
 10 
 
 11 
 
 16 
 
 22 
 
 27 
 
 33 
 
 38 
 
 41 
 
 43 
 
 49 
 
 40 
 
 11 
 
 12 
 
 12 
 
 13 
 
 20 
 
 26 
 
 33 
 
 39 
 
 46 
 
 49 
 
 53 
 
 59 
 
 50 
 
 14 
 
 15 
 
 16 
 
 16 
 
 25 
 
 33 
 
 41 
 
 49 
 
 58 
 
 62 
 
 66 
 
 74 
 
 60 
 
 17 
 
 18 
 
 19 
 
 20 
 
 3(1 
 
 39 
 
 49 
 
 59 
 
 69 
 
 74 
 
 79 
 
 89 
 
 63 
 
 18 
 
 19 
 
 20 
 
 21 
 
 3 
 
 41 
 
 52 
 
 62 
 
 72 
 
 78 
 
 83 
 
 93 
 
 70 
 
 20 
 
 21 
 
 22 
 
 23 
 
 3o 
 
 46 
 
 58 
 
 69 
 
 81 
 
 86 
 
 92 
 
 1 01 
 
 80 
 
 2' 
 
 24 
 
 25 
 
 26 
 
 33 
 
 63 
 
 66 
 
 79 
 
 92 
 
 99 
 
 1 05 
 
 1 18 
 
 90 
 
 25 
 
 27 
 
 28 
 
 30 
 
 4 
 
 59 
 
 74 
 
 89 
 
 1 04 
 
 1 1 
 
 1 IS 
 
 1 33 
 
 93 
 
 26 
 
 2e 
 
 29 
 
 31 
 
 46 
 
 6 
 
 76 
 
 92 
 
 1 07 
 
 1 IS 
 
 1 22 
 
 1 38 
 
 95 
 
 27 
 
 2S 
 
 30 
 
 31 
 
 41 
 
 62 
 
 78 
 
 94 
 
 1 09 
 
 1 17 
 
 1 25 
 
 1 41 
 
 98 
 
 27 
 
 2 
 
 81 
 
 32 
 
 4S 
 
 6 
 
 81 
 
 97 
 
 1 13 
 
 1 2 
 
 1 2fl 
 
 1 45 
 
 100 
 
 2 
 
 3( 
 
 31 
 
 3G 
 
 4 
 
 6ti 
 
 82 
 
 99 
 
 1 15 
 
 1 23 
 
 1 32 
 
 1 48 
 
 200 
 
 5 
 
 5 
 
 62 
 
 66 
 
 9 
 
 1 3 
 
 1 6-1 
 
 1 97 
 
 2 30 
 
 2 47 
 
 2 63 
 
 2 96 
 
 300 
 
 84 
 
 81 
 
 94 
 
 99 
 
 1 4? 
 
 1 9 
 
 2 47 
 
 2 96 
 
 3 43 
 
 3 70 
 
 3 9fi 
 
 4 44 
 
 19
 
 OJg THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 Interest Tables from $ 1 O to $325. 
 
 Prin- 
 
 100 
 
 125 
 
 150 
 
 175 
 
 200 
 
 225 
 
 250 
 
 2/5 
 
 300 
 
 325 
 
 cipal. 
 
 Dols. 
 
 Dols. 
 
 Dols. 
 
 Dols. 
 
 Dols. 
 
 Dols. 
 
 Dols. 
 
 Dols. 
 
 Dols. 
 
 Dols. 
 
 Yrs. 1 
 
 6 00 
 
 7 50 
 
 9 00 
 
 10 50 
 
 12 00 
 
 3 50 
 
 15 00 
 
 16 50 
 
 IS 00 
 
 19 50 
 
 2 
 
 12 00 
 
 15 00 
 
 IS 00 
 
 21 00 
 
 24 00 
 
 r, <)! 
 
 30 00 
 
 33 00 
 
 )6 00 
 
 >9 00 
 
 3 
 
 18 00 
 
 22 50 
 
 27 00 
 
 31 50 
 
 36 00 
 
 5') 
 
 45 00 
 
 49 5d 
 
 54 00 
 
 58 50 
 
 4 
 
 24 00 
 
 30 00 
 
 36 00 
 
 42 00 
 
 IS 00 
 
 34 00 
 
 60 00 
 
 66 00 
 
 72 
 
 78 00 
 
 5 
 
 30 00 
 
 37 50 
 
 45 00 
 
 52 50 
 
 >0 0!l 
 
 37 50 
 
 75 00 
 
 82 50 
 
 90 00 
 
 )7 50 
 
 Mo. 1 
 
 50 
 
 63 
 
 75 
 
 88 
 
 1 00 
 
 1 13 
 
 1 25 
 
 1 38 
 
 1 50 
 
 1 63 
 
 2 
 
 1 00 
 
 1 25 
 
 1 50 
 
 1 75 
 
 2 00 
 
 2 25 
 
 2 50 
 
 2 75 
 
 3 0(; 
 
 3 25 
 
 3 
 
 1 50 
 
 1 S3 
 
 2 25 
 
 2 63 
 
 3 0(1 
 
 3 38 
 
 3 70 
 
 4 13 
 
 4 50 
 
 4 88 
 
 4 
 
 2 00 
 
 2 50 
 
 3 00 
 
 3 50 
 
 4 00 
 
 4 50 
 
 5 00 
 
 5 50 
 
 6 00 
 
 6 50 
 
 5 
 
 2 50 
 
 3 13 
 
 3 75 
 
 4 3? 
 
 5 00 
 
 5 G:. 
 
 6 25 
 
 6 88 
 
 7 50 
 
 8 13 
 
 6 
 
 3 00 
 
 3 75 
 
 4 50 
 
 5 25 
 
 6 00 
 
 C 75 
 
 7 50 
 
 8 25 
 
 9 00 
 
 9 75 
 
 7 
 
 3 50 
 
 4 38 
 
 5 25 
 
 6 13 
 
 7 00 
 
 7 88 
 
 8 75 
 
 9 63 
 
 10 50 
 
 11 38 
 
 8 
 
 4 00 
 
 5 00 
 
 6 00 
 
 7 00 
 
 8 00 
 
 9 00 
 
 10 00 
 
 11 00 
 
 12 00 
 
 13 00 
 
 9 
 
 4 50 
 
 5 63 
 
 6 75 
 
 7 8- 1 
 
 9 00 
 
 10 13 
 
 11 25 
 
 12 38 
 
 13 50 
 
 14 63 
 
 10 
 
 5 00 
 
 6 25 
 
 7 50 
 
 8 75 
 
 10 00 
 
 11 25 
 
 12 50 
 
 13 75 
 
 15 00 
 
 16 25 
 
 11 
 
 5 50 
 
 6 88 
 
 8 25 
 
 9 63 
 
 11 00 
 
 12 3." 
 
 13 75 
 
 15 13 
 
 16 50 
 
 17 88 
 
 12 
 
 6 00 
 
 7 50 
 
 9 00 
 
 10 50 
 
 12 00 
 
 13 50 
 
 15 00 
 
 16 50 
 
 18 00 
 
 19 50 
 
 Days 1 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 8 
 
 4 
 
 1 
 
 5 
 
 5 
 
 5 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 5 
 
 G 
 
 7 
 
 7 
 
 8 
 
 9 
 
 10 
 
 11 
 
 3 
 
 5 
 
 6 
 
 7 
 
 9 
 
 10 
 
 11 
 
 12 
 
 14 
 
 15 
 
 16 
 
 4 
 
 7 
 
 8 
 
 10 
 
 12 
 
 13 
 
 15 
 
 16 
 
 18 
 
 20 
 
 21 
 
 5 
 
 8 
 
 10 
 
 12 
 
 14 
 
 16 
 
 18 
 
 21 
 
 23 
 
 25 
 
 37 
 
 6 
 
 10 
 
 12 
 
 15 
 
 17 
 
 20 
 
 22 
 
 25 
 
 27 
 
 30 
 
 32 
 
 7 
 
 12 
 
 14 
 
 17 
 
 20 
 
 23 
 
 26 
 
 29 
 
 32 
 
 35 
 
 37 
 
 8 
 
 13 
 
 16 
 
 20 
 
 23 
 
 26 
 
 30 
 
 33 
 
 3fi 
 
 39 
 
 43 
 
 9 
 
 15 
 
 18 
 
 22 
 
 26 
 
 30 
 
 33 
 
 37 
 
 41 
 
 41 
 
 48 
 
 10 
 
 16 
 
 21 
 
 25 
 
 29 
 
 33 
 
 37 
 
 41 
 
 45 
 
 49 
 
 53 
 
 15 
 
 25 
 
 31 
 
 37 
 
 43 
 
 49 
 
 55 
 
 62 
 
 68 
 
 74 
 
 80 
 
 20 
 
 33 
 
 41 
 
 49 
 
 58 
 
 66 
 
 74 
 
 82 
 
 9!) 
 
 99 
 
 1 07 
 
 30 
 
 49 
 
 62 
 
 74 
 
 86 
 
 99 
 
 1 11 
 
 1 23 
 
 1 36 
 
 1 48 
 
 1 60 
 
 33 
 
 54 
 
 68 
 
 81 
 
 95 
 
 1 OS 
 
 1 22 
 
 1 36 
 
 1 49 
 
 1 63 
 
 1 76 
 
 40 
 
 66 
 
 82 
 
 99 
 
 1 15 
 
 1 32 
 
 1 48 
 
 1 64 
 
 1 81 
 
 1 97 
 
 2 10 
 
 50 
 
 82 
 
 1 03 
 
 1 23 
 
 1 44 
 
 1 64 
 
 1 85 
 
 2 05 
 
 2 26 
 
 2 47 
 
 2 67 
 
 60 
 
 99 
 
 1 2.3 
 
 1 48 
 
 1 73 
 
 1 97 
 
 2 22 
 
 2 47 
 
 2 71 
 
 2 96 
 
 3 21 
 
 63 
 
 1 04 
 
 1 29 
 
 1 55 
 
 1 81 
 
 2 07 
 
 2 33 
 
 2 59 
 
 2 85 
 
 3 11 
 
 3 37 
 
 70 
 
 1 15 
 
 1 44 
 
 1 73 
 
 2 01 
 
 2 30 
 
 2 59 
 
 2 88 
 
 3 16 
 
 3 45 
 
 3 74 
 
 80 
 
 1 32 
 
 1 64 
 
 1 97 
 
 2 30 
 
 2 63 
 
 2 96 
 
 3 29 
 
 3 62 
 
 3 95 
 
 4 27 
 
 90 
 
 1 48 
 
 1 85 
 
 2 22 
 
 2 59 
 
 2 96 
 
 3 3.3 
 
 3 70 
 
 4 07 
 
 4 44 
 
 4 81 
 
 93 
 
 1 53 
 
 1 91 
 
 2 29 
 
 2 68 
 
 3 06 
 
 3 44 
 
 3 82 
 
 4 20 
 
 4 59 
 
 4 97 
 
 95 
 
 1 56 
 
 1 95 
 
 2 34 
 
 2 73 
 
 3 12 
 
 3 51 
 
 3 90 
 
 4 29 
 
 4 68 
 
 5 08 
 
 98 
 
 1 61 
 
 2 01 
 
 2 42 
 
 2 82 
 
 3 22 
 
 3 62 
 
 4 03 
 
 4 43 
 
 4 83 
 
 5 24 
 
 100 
 
 1 64 
 
 2 05 
 
 2 47 
 
 2 88 
 
 3 29 
 
 3 70 
 
 4 11 
 
 4 52 
 
 4 93 
 
 5 34 
 
 200 
 
 3 29 
 
 4 11 
 
 4 93 
 
 5 75 
 
 6 58 
 
 7 40 
 
 8 22 
 
 9 04 
 
 9 86 
 
 10 68 
 
 300 
 
 4 93 
 
 6 16 
 
 7 40 
 
 8 63 
 
 9 86 
 
 11 10 
 
 12 33 
 
 13 56 
 
 14 79 
 
 16 03
 
 INTKKIiST TABLES. 
 
 Interest Tablesfrom %33O to $1000. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Prin- 
 
 350 
 
 400 
 
 500 
 
 600 
 
 700 
 
 800 
 
 900 
 
 1000 
 
 cipal. 
 
 Dols. 
 
 Dols. 
 
 Dols. 
 
 Dols. 
 
 Dols. 
 
 Dols. 
 
 Dols. 
 
 Dols. 
 
 Yrs. 1 
 
 21 00 
 
 24 00 
 
 30 00 
 
 36 00 
 
 42 00 
 
 48 00 
 
 54 00 
 
 60 00 
 
 2 
 
 42 00 
 
 48 00 
 
 60 00 
 
 72 00 
 
 84 00 
 
 96 00 
 
 108 00 
 
 120 00 
 
 3 
 
 63 00 
 
 72 00 
 
 90 00 
 
 108 00 
 
 126 00 
 
 144 00 
 
 162 00 
 
 180 00 
 
 4 
 
 84 00 
 
 96 00 
 
 120 00 
 
 144 00 
 
 168 00 
 
 192 00 
 
 216 00 
 
 240 00 
 
 5 
 
 105 00 
 
 120 00 
 
 150 00 
 
 180 00 
 
 210 00 
 
 240 00 
 
 270 00 
 
 300 00 
 
 Mo. 1 
 
 1 75 
 
 2 00 
 
 2 50 
 
 3 00 
 
 3 50 
 
 4 00 
 
 4 50 
 
 5 00 
 
 2 
 
 3 50 
 
 4 00 
 
 5 00 
 
 6 00 
 
 7 00 
 
 8 00 
 
 9 00 
 
 10 00 
 
 3 
 
 5 25 
 
 6 00 
 
 7 50 
 
 9 00 
 
 10 50 
 
 12 00 
 
 13 50 
 
 15 00 
 
 4 
 
 7 00 
 
 8 00 
 
 10 00 
 
 12 00 
 
 14 00 
 
 16 00 
 
 18 00 
 
 20 00 
 
 5 
 
 8 75 
 
 10 00 
 
 12 50 
 
 15 00 
 
 17 50 
 
 20 00 
 
 22 50 
 
 25 00 
 
 6 
 
 10 50 
 
 12 00 
 
 15 00 
 
 ,18 00 
 
 21 00 
 
 24 00 
 
 27 00 
 
 30 00 
 
 7 
 
 12 25 
 
 14 00 
 
 17 50 
 
 21 00 
 
 24 50 
 
 28 00 
 
 31 50 
 
 35 00 
 
 8 
 
 14 00 
 
 16 00 
 
 20 00 
 
 24 00 
 
 28 00 
 
 32 00 
 
 36 00 
 
 40 00 
 
 9 
 
 15 75 
 
 18 00 
 
 22 50 
 
 27 00 
 
 31 50 
 
 36 00 
 
 40 50 
 
 45 00 
 
 10 
 
 17 50 
 
 20 00 
 
 25 00 
 
 30 00 
 
 35 00 
 
 40 00 
 
 45 00 
 
 50 00 
 
 11 
 
 19 25 
 
 22 00 
 
 27 50 
 
 33 00 
 
 38 50 
 
 44 00 
 
 49 50 
 
 55 00 
 
 12 
 
 21 00 
 
 24 00 
 
 30 00 
 
 36 00 
 
 42 00 
 
 48 00 
 
 54 00 
 
 60 00 
 
 Daysl 
 
 6 
 
 7 
 
 8 
 
 10 
 
 12 
 
 13 
 
 15 
 
 16 
 
 2 
 
 12 
 
 13 
 
 16 
 
 20 
 
 23 
 
 26 
 
 30 
 
 33 
 
 3 
 
 17 
 
 20 
 
 25 
 
 30 
 
 35 
 
 39 
 
 44 
 
 49 
 
 4 
 
 23 
 
 26 
 
 33 
 
 39 
 
 46 
 
 53 
 
 59 
 
 66 
 
 5 
 
 29 
 
 33 
 
 41 
 
 49 
 
 58 
 
 66 
 
 74 
 
 82 
 
 6 
 
 35 
 
 39 
 
 49 
 
 59 
 
 69 
 
 79 
 
 89 
 
 99 
 
 7 
 
 40 
 
 46 
 
 58 
 
 69 
 
 81 
 
 92 
 
 1 04 
 
 1 15 
 
 8 
 
 46 
 
 53 
 
 66 
 
 79 
 
 92 
 
 1 05 
 
 1 18 
 
 1 32 
 
 9 
 
 52 
 
 59 
 
 74 
 
 89 
 
 1 04 
 
 1 18 
 
 1 33 
 
 1 48 
 
 10 
 
 68 
 
 66 
 
 82 
 
 99 
 
 1 15 
 
 1 32 
 
 1 48 
 
 1 64 
 
 15 
 
 86 
 
 99 
 
 1 23 
 
 1 48 
 
 1 73 
 
 1 97 
 
 2 22 
 
 2 47 
 
 20 
 
 1 15 
 
 1 32 
 
 1 64 
 
 1 97 
 
 2 30 
 
 2 63 
 
 2 96 
 
 3 29 
 
 30 
 
 1 73 
 
 1 97 
 
 2 47 
 
 2 96 
 
 3 45 
 
 3 95 
 
 4 44 
 
 4 93 
 
 33 
 
 1 90 
 
 2 17 
 
 2 71 
 
 3 25 
 
 3 80 
 
 4 34 
 
 4 88 
 
 5 42 
 
 40 
 
 2 30 
 
 2 63 
 
 3 29 
 
 3 95 
 
 4 60 
 
 5 26 
 
 5 92 
 
 6 58 
 
 50 
 
 2 88 
 
 3 29 
 
 4 11 
 
 4 93 
 
 5 75 
 
 6 58 
 
 7 40 
 
 8 22 
 
 60 
 
 3 45 
 
 3 95 
 
 4 93 
 
 5 92 
 
 6 90 
 
 7 89 
 
 8 88 
 
 9 86 
 
 63 
 
 3 62 
 
 4 14 
 
 5 18 
 
 6 21 
 
 7 25 
 
 8 28 
 
 9 32 
 
 10 36 
 
 70 
 
 4 03 
 
 4 60 
 
 5 75 
 
 6 90 
 
 8 05 
 
 9 21 
 
 10 36 
 
 11 51 
 
 80 
 
 4 60 
 
 5 26 
 
 6 58 
 
 7 89- 
 
 9 21 
 
 10 52 
 
 11 84 
 
 13 15 
 
 90 
 
 5 18 
 
 5 92 
 
 7 40 
 
 8 88 
 
 10 36 
 
 11 84 
 
 13 32 
 
 14 79 
 
 93 
 
 5 35 
 
 6 12 
 
 7 64 
 
 9 17 
 
 10 70 
 
 12 23 
 
 13 76 
 
 15 29 
 
 95 
 
 5 47 
 
 6 25 
 
 7 81 
 
 9 37 
 
 10 93 
 
 12 49 
 
 14 05 
 
 15 62 
 
 98 
 
 5 64 
 
 6 44 
 
 8 05 
 
 9 67 
 
 11 28 
 
 12 89 
 
 14 50 
 
 16 11 
 
 100 
 
 5 75 
 
 6 58 
 
 8 22 
 
 ' 9 86 
 
 11 51 
 
 13 15 
 
 14 79 
 
 16 44 
 
 200 
 
 11 51 
 
 13 15 
 
 16 44 
 
 19 73 
 
 23 01 
 
 26 30 
 
 29 59 
 
 32 88 
 
 300 
 
 17 26 
 
 19 73 
 
 24 66 
 
 29 59 
 
 34 52 
 
 39 45 
 
 44 38 
 
 49 32
 
 220 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 Explanation of the Interest Tables. 
 
 Suppose the interest is required on $259 for one year, five months, 
 and ten days. Look under $250 at the top, and opposite to 1 year, in 
 the margin, and we find $15 ; opposite to 5 months, we find $6 25 ; and 
 opposite to 10 days, we find 41 cents. In the same way we find the 
 interest of $9, viz., 54 cents fpr 1 year, 23 cents for 5 months, and 1 
 cent for ten days : total interest, $22 44. By looking in the same 
 manner, the interest of the same sum for 93 days is found to be $3 96. 
 
 In casting the interest on cents, accountants generally consider fifty 
 cents and over as one dollar, and under fifty cents as nothing. This 
 rule is founded on equitable principles, and should always be adopted.
 
 INDEX 
 
 
 Page. I Page. 
 
 Abstemious Diet of a Traveller 48|Fruits, Unripe, 14 
 
 Anthracite Coal, Use of, 9 Future Life, The, 49 
 
 Bank worth having 105 
 
 of England 155 
 
 Bathing, Eastern, 126 
 
 ,Warm, 85 
 
 Beauty and Health 25 
 
 Bible Statistics 127 
 
 Birds of Spring 110 
 
 Blodget's Timber Table 74 
 
 Blue Stockings 62 
 
 Boy, A good, 103 
 
 Cattle, Weight of, 109 
 
 Champooing. 126 
 
 Chilling Politeness 22 
 
 Chinese Women 26 
 
 Christ, Personal Description of, .70. 
 
 Chronological Sketch of G. Britain.. 142 
 
 Clothing, On, 3 
 
 of Children 49 
 
 Congress, U. S., 197 
 
 Counsels 109 
 
 Debts, National, 81 
 
 Defence of the North 53 
 
 Distances, Table of, 140 
 
 Domestic Affection 82, 138 
 
 Dress in 1350 147 
 
 Duties to God and Man 95 
 
 Early Rising 107 
 
 Effeminacy 121 
 
 Elections, Table of, 190 
 
 Electoral Votes for President of U. S. 
 from 1789 to 1837.'. 194 
 
 Farmer, Happy Condition of the,.... 72 
 
 Farmer's Life and Duties 101 
 
 Farmers 96, 97 
 
 Farms, Ancient, 107 
 
 Fasting 84 
 
 Feet, Wet and Cold, 1<2 
 
 Female Influence 94 
 
 Fire Woods, Value of, 132 
 
 Flowers 65 
 
 Foreign Moneys 120 
 
 Frost, The. .......122 
 
 19* 
 
 Galen's Experience 13 
 
 Genius vs. Labor 72 
 
 Government U. S. 1774 to 1840 191 
 
 Governors' Salaries 190 
 
 Gray's Elegy 88 
 
 Happiness ..121 
 
 Health, Duty to, 17 
 
 ., Rules for, 18 
 
 Home 94 
 
 Hope 64 
 
 Hotels, Large ; 133 
 
 Jewess, The, 128 
 
 Judiciary U.S. 1789 to 1840 196 
 
 .141 
 
 ..68 
 
 Kingly Fortune . 
 
 Knowledge in Heaven. 
 
 Lady-Bug and Ant 196 
 
 Ladies' Shoes 135 
 
 Lapland, A Season in, 105 
 
 Legislatures, Meeting of, 190 
 
 , No. of Members, &c., .190 
 
 Literary Wife 76 
 
 Longevity, Tables of, 123 
 
 Love-Letters 82, 138 
 
 Man's double Duty 47 
 
 Man of Leisure 49 
 
 Mansion of Rest 108 
 
 Marriage, Advice on, 91 
 
 Massachusetts, Independence of...... 59 
 
 Matrimonial Bargain 62 
 
 Medicine, Abuse of, 79 
 
 Moneys, Foreign, 120 
 
 Mortality in Cities 125 
 
 My Mother 116 
 
 Mystery revealed 24 
 
 Napoleon ....84 
 
 Natural Science 78 
 
 Nervous Ladv .....18 
 
 New England, Compliment to, 59 
 
 , Sketch of, 29 
 
 Newspapers 71
 
 222 
 
 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 Page. 
 
 Old Age of a Temperate Man 7G 
 
 Old Times 137 
 
 Peep into the Kitchen 59 
 
 Population of the World, 98 
 
 of Cities in Europe 102 
 
 , Comparative View of, ... 103 
 
 Presidents U. S., Prominent Candi- 
 dates for, 1840, 195 
 
 Printing-, The Art of, 71 
 
 Religion favorable to Health 28 
 
 Retrenchment 50 
 
 Reunion in Heaven .70 
 
 Sister, On the Death of a, 114 
 
 Sisterhood of Charity 23 
 
 Sleep 16 
 
 Sleeplessness 16 
 
 Snake, Fascination of the, .........118 
 
 Snow-Storm 66 
 
 Soiling Milch Cows 186 
 
 Sovereigns of Europe 141 
 
 Speculation, A good, 21 
 
 Statistics of the Bible 127 
 
 Cotton 122 
 
 the Press 220 
 
 Slaves 136 
 
 Steam, Effect of, 28 
 
 Swimming 86 
 
 Symptoms 19 
 
 Tables of Congress U. S., 197 
 
 Tables of Distances 140 
 
 State Elections . . . ." 190 
 
 Presidential Votes 194 
 
 Foreign Moneys 120 
 
 Government U. S, 191 
 
 Interest 216 
 
 Judiciary U. S., 196 
 
 S late Legi slatures 1 90 
 
 Longevity 123 
 
 for Measuring Timber 74 
 
 of Nutritious Matter in Food. 169 
 
 Population 98 
 
 Sovereigns of Europe .... 141 
 
 Tide 73 
 
 Time 107 
 
 Valueof Fuel 132 
 
 Weather 95 
 
 Weight of Cattle 109 
 
 Tom Tpwson 52 
 
 Travelling with an Object in View . . .82 
 Truth 63 
 
 Ventilation, On, 6 
 
 Washington, a Farmer, 96 
 
 Water 129 
 
 Weather Table 96 
 
 Weight of Cattle 109 
 
 Whigs and Tories 155 
 
 Whisky vs. Bread 137 
 
 Wolfe, General, 83 
 
 Women, Wives, and Marriage 130 
 
 DOMESTIC RECEIPTS. 
 
 Page. 
 
 Apple Bread 161 
 
 Butter 178 
 
 Pudding 162 
 
 Trees 187 
 
 Bake out,...^. 165 
 
 Barley Flour 184 
 
 Beans, Baked, 163 
 
 Blackberry Sirup 175 
 
 Boil your Molasses 178 
 
 Bread 187 
 
 Bread Making 179 
 
 Bugs on Vines 185 
 
 Butter, Bad, 163 
 
 Dutch, 170 
 
 , Winter, 163 
 
 Camomile 181 
 
 Candles 178 
 
 Cement, Composition for 189 
 
 , French,. 181 
 
 Page. 
 
 Cherries, To dry, 173 
 
 Cherry Jam, 173 
 
 Chickens 165 
 
 Chimneys 163 
 
 Coffee 160 
 
 Consumption 167 
 
 Cookery, Its Advantages, 184 
 
 Cooks 187 
 
 Crackers, Water, 178 
 
 Cream Cakes 162 
 
 Curing Meat, 163 
 
 Currant Jam 173 
 
 Jelly .173 
 
 Wine 169 
 
 Eggs, Preserving, 186 
 
 Exemption from Colds 179 
 
 Feather Beds 165 
 
 Fish, Curing and Cookiner, 176 
 
 Flies f 177
 
 INDEX. 
 
 223 
 
 Page. 
 
 Flies from Horses 176 
 
 Ginger Sirup 162 
 
 Gooseberry Jell v 174 
 
 Grape Jelly . . . '. 173 
 
 Grease Spots, To remove, 172 
 
 Hay 177 
 
 Housekeepers 170 
 
 Jell}-, How to make, 175 
 
 Leather, Water-Proof. 164 
 
 Lime, Use of 170 
 
 Liniment for Horses' Backs 177 
 
 Milk 168 
 
 Mortar 170 
 
 Mullein vs. Mice 185 
 
 Nutritious Matter in Food 169 
 
 Peach Jelly 174 
 
 .186 
 .178 
 .168 
 
 Potatoes, French Fashion, 162 
 
 , Watery 162 
 
 Receipt to cure Cough of Horses... 189 
 
 Fever and Ague .... 183 
 
 Founder of Horses. 178 
 
 Grave! 183 
 
 Hoarseness 166 
 
 Hydrophobia ......181 
 
 Inflammations ..... 167 
 
 Inflamed E\ <- 183 
 
 Quinsy ...". J8JJ 
 
 Ringworms 161! 
 
 Sleigh .Sickness . ... 160 
 
 Sprains and Bruises. 186 
 
 Stings of Bees 183 
 
 Summer Complaint. 182 
 
 Swelled Throats of 
 
 Hogs 181 
 
 Toothache, &c., ...18G 
 
 Warts !!( 
 
 Wens 186 
 
 Whooping Cough ..181} 
 
 Wounds of Cattle.. 179 
 
 Rhubarb Pies 176 
 
 Rice Bread 161 
 
 , Cooking, 16.5 
 
 Custard 1 7!l 
 
 Rocks, Blasting 177 
 
 Roses, Tincture of, 185 
 
 Pn-.-rving Pears, Plums. iVc 171 Sago Bread 169 
 
 Green Corn. Beans, &c. ,.!!"!( I Pudding 179 
 
 Pumpkins.. 1"! Smut on Wheat ' 172 
 
 Timber 172 Soap Suds for Plants l-l 
 
 -es, To prepare 175, Spruce Beer 177 
 
 Pudding, Sweet Apple, 162 
 
 Raspberry Preserve 1 7. 1 . 
 
 . A Mode of edging 177 Sweetmeats, Directions for making, .172 
 
 t to curt; Asthma 168 
 
 Sugar 176 
 
 from Potatoes. 169 
 
 Summer Drink 185 
 
 Bots in Horses 177 
 
 Bnrn^ I'i6 
 
 . Cancer 1' 
 
 .Chilblains 185 
 
 .Colds 166 
 
 Corns 1".5 
 
 Cramp 16 ' 
 
 Cough !(">;. Wood-House...... 182 
 
 Tar for Sheep 172 
 
 Tomato I :;:: 
 
 Tripe 1 !W5 
 
 Turkeys. Fattening, 177 
 
 Water. Cold, for Children I 
 
 , Floating on, 182 
 
 VARIETY. 
 
 p.,-. 
 
 Alphabet J10 
 
 A nagram 205 
 
 Ancient Charter 1 1 
 
 Arab Beauty 208 
 
 Beautiful Sentiment 
 
 Bedstead, Splendid, 
 
 Blacksmith, A curious, 208 
 
 Bravery rewarded 210 
 
 Bunkum 
 
 Bad >V\vs, How io tell 
 
 Beautiful Extract 207 ( 'liallensre 2<V> 
 
 Idea 212 ( 'hances of Marriage 207
 
 224 
 
 THE FAMILY VISITOR. 
 
 Page. 
 
 Diamonds 213 
 
 Disease, Origin of, 201 
 
 Earth, not Man's Home, 202 
 
 Education 201 
 
 Eloquence 205 
 
 Entailed Estate 203 
 
 Example 210 
 
 Expedient 212 
 
 Faithful Dog- 209 
 
 Flowering of Fruit Trees 213 
 
 Friday 2J 3 
 
 Goods of Life. 
 
 Haydn 207 
 
 Honey Moon 209 
 
 Imprisonment for Debt 208 
 
 Intermarriage 211 
 
 Knowledge 206 
 
 Lady, Origin of the Word, 209 
 
 Laura and Petrarch 201 
 
 Leeches, New Way of applying 212 
 
 Li;- 202 
 
 Name 210 
 
 Optical Experiment 
 
 Page. 
 
 ..205 
 
 Petrarch and Laura 201 
 
 Physicians, Three great, 201 
 
 Plagues 205 
 
 Precepts 207 
 
 Quack Doctor's Notice 
 
 .206 
 
 Reading 208 
 
 IMlrciion on Death 20-1 
 
 Religion 201, 210 
 
 Saint Aspinquid 202 
 
 Sin, God alone can pardon, 211 
 
 Slander 21 1 
 
 Steam, Power of, 210 
 
 Sugar, Cultivation of,.... 213 
 
 Sweet Day, so cool, &c , 214 
 
 Tattlers 209 
 
 Tea 212 
 
 Temperance 204 
 
 Time, Value of, 214 
 
 Tobacco, Love of, 212 
 
 Touch of the Sublime 208 
 
 Trade 210 
 
 Typographical Error 208 
 
 Man and Woman 213 Vale of Ovoca 214 
 
 Marriage Portion 212 
 
 Minding one's Business 203 
 
 Moral Grandeur 203 
 
 Mother, The, 201 
 
 Mother's Love 202 
 
 Music 201 
 
 Washington, Compliment to, 203 
 
 Watch Making * 211 
 
 Wealth 211 
 
 Wife advertised 206 
 
 Wonders of Philosophy 206
 
 H A Y WARD'S 
 
 NEW ENGLAND GAZETTEER. 
 
 Recommendations of the Work. 
 
 From the Boston Morning Post. 
 
 This is, unquestionably, the best 
 work of the kind ever issued from 
 the American press, and will prove, 
 we think, a most invaluable book for 
 reference. The amount of statisti- 
 cal information which it gives r> re- 
 ally immense, and must give a high 
 idea of its author's industry and tal- 
 ents, and for which his work deserves 
 an extensive sale. Every one who 
 wishes to encourage merit, and to 
 acquire knowledge which can be of 
 daily use, should have a copy of this 
 valuable publication. 
 
 From the Independent Chronicle and 
 
 Boston Patriot. 
 
 This is a work embracing a great 
 variety of detail, and consequently 
 the fruit of great labor, as most of 
 the materials must have been sought 
 from unpublished or unarranged 
 sources. It appears to have been 
 prepared with great fidelity, care, 
 and accuracy, and we doubt not it 
 will be found not only an extremely 
 useful book of reference, but one 
 which may be advantageously stud- 
 ied by those who are desirous of ac- 
 quainting themselves with the prog- 
 ress of population, manufactures, 
 and improvements, in the different 
 parts of the New England states. 
 
 From the American Traveller. 
 We have examined a copy of Hay- 
 ward's New England Gazetteer. It 
 is no easy task to collect and arrange 
 the important facts and statistics for 
 a gazetteer, where the materials are 
 obtained from an almost illimitable 
 number of sources. Some compilers 
 throw together in chaotic mass the 
 materials thus afforded, with very 
 little regard to the accuracy of the 
 dates, taking upon trust whatever 
 relates to the subject-matter in hand, 
 that may fall in their way. Such is 
 not the course pursued by Mr. Hay- 
 ward in the preparation of his new 
 Gazetteer. He has not only consult- 
 ed volumes and local histories, writ- 
 ten letters, and availed himself of the 
 ordinary means of acquiring the re- 
 quisite information, but has per- 
 formed long and tedious journeys 
 over almost every part of the New 
 England states, and by personal in- 
 quiry and observation, obtained in- 
 formation that can be implicitly 
 relied upon for its freshness and 
 accuracy: Mr. Hayward deserves 
 the most substantial encouragement 
 for his indefatigable exertions in this 
 department of literature ; and this, 
 the best effort of his talent, enter- 
 prise, and industry, cannot fail of 
 securing a patronage as extensive as 
 its merits are unequivocal. Every
 
 New England Gazetteer. Recommendations. 
 
 intelligent New Englander, what- 
 ever his business or occupation, will 
 find this work exceedingly valuable, 
 and almost indispensable for a work 
 of daily reference. 
 
 From the New Hampshire Patriot. 
 The contents of this work, topo- 
 graphical, historical, biographical, 
 statistical, and miscellaneous, evince 
 persevering labor, patient research, 
 and indefatigable industry. A copy 
 should be found in every family 
 circle, and on the desk of every 
 professional and business man. 
 
 From the Boston Centinel fy Gazette. 
 This Gazetteer appears to have 
 been prepared with much labor and 
 great accuracy. Such a work can- 
 not fail to be interesting, and par- 
 ticularly useful to business men. 
 It is an appropriate manual for all 
 classes of the community, and 
 should find a place in every count- 
 ing-room and private dwelling in 
 New England. 
 
 From the Providence Journal. 
 This is precisely such a book as 
 we have long been wanting to lay 
 upon our table. It contains an ac- 
 Opunt of every township in New 
 England, and a description of the 
 principal mountains, rivers, lakes, 
 islands, places of resort, &c. It 
 comprises an immense amount of 
 historical and statistical informa- 
 tion, and is interspersed with nu- 
 merous piquant anecdotes, princi- 
 pally of the early settlers. The 
 whole is judiciously and systemati- 
 cally arranged. The collection of 
 such a vast number of facts must 
 
 have been a work of great labor, and 
 will unquestionably be rewarded by 
 a very extensive sale. The work 
 is prefaced with a chapter upon the 
 general aspect of New England, its 
 early history, the character of the 
 people, and the resources and indus- 
 try of the country. Such books as 
 these are always exceedingly valu- 
 able, not merely as works of refer- 
 ence, but as aiding us in forming an 
 estimate of the character and condi- 
 tion of a people. 
 
 From the Portland Courier. 
 Mr. Hayward is one of the most 
 indefatigable and most accurate col- 
 Jectors of statistics in our country, 
 and has spared no pains or exertions 
 to make the present work a useful 
 manual for the whole land. This 
 Gazetteer should, and no doubt will 
 be, in the library of every profession- 
 al man, and on the desk of every 
 bank and of every merchant in the 
 country. He who can obtain the 
 reputation of accuracy in a work of 
 this kind, must have gone through a 
 course of toil and patient industry 
 not to be conceived of by those who 
 only perceive the results as imbodied 
 in the work. 
 
 From the New York Gazette. 
 Mr. Hayward has produced a 
 work of great utility, and it has 
 found a ready and rapid sale. The 
 materials for the Gazetteer were ob- 
 tained from a vast number of sources. 
 Compilers not unfrequently throw 
 together in chaotic mass the mate- 
 rials thus afforded, regardless of the 
 accuracy of the data. Mr. Hayward 
 separates the wheat from the chaff,
 
 New England Gazetteer. Recommendations. 
 
 and condenses and concentrates his 
 materials with a remarkable degree 
 of faithfulness and fidelity. 
 
 From the Lincoln Telegraph. 
 
 The amount of statistical infor- 
 mation and necessary knowledge in 
 this volume, is greater than in any 
 work of the kind ever before pub- 
 lished, and has one very essential 
 recommendation over every other 
 work of the kind that of personal 
 knowledge of all the points treated 
 
 upon. 
 
 From the Hartford Literary Review. 
 
 We can truly say that we believe 
 this Gazetteer fills a blank in New 
 England literature, which heretofore 
 has been felt almost daily by every 
 business man, nay, every reading 
 family in the six Eastern States. Mr. 
 Hay ward deserves the thanks and the 
 liberal patronage of us all for this 
 work ; it has cost him a great amount 
 of labor, the facts having been sought 
 out by himself, in most cases, on the 
 spot, and not, like too many money- 
 making books of the day, merely col- 
 lated and compiled from other books, 
 without stirring from his own fire- 
 side. The fact of wearisome jour- 
 neys, and patient, indefatigable re- 
 search, are evident throughout the 
 work. It is also interspersed, occa- 
 sionally, with interesting reminis- 
 cences of by-gone days, thus mak- 
 ing it, besides a fund of useful 
 knowledge, a book of entertainment. 
 Every man who desires for himself 
 or for his children a right knowl- 
 edge of New England, should pur- 
 chase this book. 
 
 From Zion's Herald. 
 We have examined Mr. Hay- 
 ward's Gazetteer with much inter- 
 
 est and satisfaction. It exhibits 
 great labor and research, and can- 
 not fail of proving a most useful ad- 
 dition to the library of every one 
 desirous to know more respecting 
 his own beloved New England. 
 Throughout the work, the author 
 has judiciously interspersed pleas- 
 ing anecdotes, which makes it inter- 
 esting to all classes of readers. It 
 ought to become a reading book in 
 every school in New England. 
 
 From the Herald of Freedom. 
 This work evinces much labor 
 and industry ; it should have a place 
 in every library, and engage the at- 
 tention of every reader. To those 
 who are desirous of becoming ac- 
 quainted with the progress of im- 
 provement, the population, and the 
 manufacturing enterprise of the 
 New England states, we cannot 
 hesitate to recommend HAYWARD'S 
 Gazetteer. 
 
 From the Exeter News Letter. 
 Mr. Hayward was well qualified 
 to prepare a work of this sort, and 
 he has been as industrious in the 
 collection of materials for it, as skil- 
 ful in arranging them. The Gaz- 
 etteer was much wanted, and will 
 be found both interesting and use- 
 ful. 
 
 From the Quincy Patiiot. 
 Mr. Hayward has accomplished no 
 easy task in the preparation of this 
 invaluable Gazetteer. It would be 
 difficult to portray the arduous re- 
 search requisite in the preparation of 
 a work of this character. Mr. H. 
 has produced a Gazetteer which for 
 real practical utility has never, to
 
 New England Gazetteer. Recommendations. 
 
 our knowledge, been surpassed. He 
 condenses and concentrates his ma- 
 terials with a remarkable degree of 
 faithfulness and fidelity. Much of 
 the varied and valued information 
 contained in this volume has been 
 acquired by personal observation 
 and inquiry, as the author has vis- 
 ited almost every section of the 
 country he so graphically describes. 
 
 From the Ncio Hampshire Statesman. 
 The information, historical, topo- 
 graphical, and statistical, found in 
 this volume, should be in posses- 
 sion of every individual, and would 
 furnish any one with a valuable fund 
 of useful and entertaining knowledge. 
 
 From the Christian Panoply. 
 This is a valuable work, and con- 
 tains a vast amount of information, 
 which every family should possess. 
 
 From the Nashua Gazette. 
 Upon the usefulness of a work of 
 this kind we need not descant, for 
 that must be apparent to every one. 
 The immense amount of information 
 contained in it, renders it one of the 
 most useful and desirable works 
 ever issued from the New England 
 press. Every one who wishes to 
 acquire information which will be 
 of daily use, and an efficient busi- 
 ness companion, should possess this 
 valuable book. 
 
 From the New Haven Register. 
 
 This is a useful and interesting 
 work, and well deserving a place in 
 every family library in New Eng- 
 land as a book of reference. In 
 addition to what its title purports, it 
 is replete with historical, statistical, 
 
 and biographical facts, connected 
 with the settlement and growth of 
 every town of note and these facts 
 have been collected from the most 
 authentic sources. 
 
 From the Providence Herald. 
 This is a complete, excellent, and 
 elegant work. It comprises a vast 
 quantity of valuable information rel- 
 ative to all the counties and towns 
 in New England. For geographi- 
 cal and statistical information, as a 
 book of reference, no family or 
 counting-room should be without 
 it. It is elegantly printed on paper 
 of an excellent quality, and hand- 
 somely and durably bound; and is 
 furnished at a low price. 
 
 From the Hartford Courant. 
 This is a new, elegant, and valu- 
 able work. It contains correct sta- 
 tistical information of every county 
 and town in New England, and is 
 invaluable as a book of reference. 
 The style in which the book is got 
 up is very fine. The paper, typog- 
 raphy, binding and all, are almost 
 equal to those of an annual. 
 
 From the JVeiv York Whig. 
 
 This work is prepared with unu- 
 sual care and accuracy, and from 
 our personal knowledge of the in- 
 dustry and assiduity of its author, 
 and from a careful examination .of 
 the entire contents of the book, we 
 can speak unqualifiedly in its praise. 
 
 The Gazetteer, in addition to ac- 
 curate typographical descriptions, 
 gives a concise history of the vari- 
 ous towns and cities, and their dis- 
 tances from Boston and the seat of 
 government ; and also points out
 
 New England Gazetteer. Recommendations. 
 
 the most pleasant and fashionable 
 routes for those summer excursions 
 which are found so delightful along 
 the rivers, and among the mountains 
 of New England. A copy should 
 be found in every family circle, and 
 on the desk of every professional 
 and business man. 
 
 From the New Haven Palladium. 
 
 " Hayward's New England Ga- 
 zetteer" is so eminently useful and 
 valuable, that it will be found, we 
 think, indispensable to a large num- 
 ber, and will therefore meet with a 
 ready sale. We are surprised that 
 so much matter, containing notices 
 (and some of them rather extensive) 
 of all the towns in New England, 
 could be compressed into a single 
 small volume, and that afforded at 
 the low price at which this is offered. 
 We believe there is no other such 
 work extant. Every New Eng- 
 lander ought therefore to possess it. 
 
 The frontispiece is a representa- 
 tion of Boston, its harbor, with Bun- 
 ker Hill, &c., beautifully engraved. 
 
 From the Dover Advertiser. 
 This work is written in good style, 
 comprehensive and correct ; and em- 
 braces statistical facts and historical 
 delineations, well worth double the 
 amount of the subscription price, to 
 any man of business, literary, trav- 
 elling or pleasurable pursuits. Mr. 
 Hay ward is known as the talented 
 author of many interesting works. 
 He deserves much from the public 
 for his industry and perseverance in 
 bringing out the Gazetteer, and it 
 should be in the hands of every son 
 of New England, as well as in those 
 of other states, who would learn the 
 history of our country. Any one 
 
 travelling through New England, for 
 business or pleasure, must find this 
 an indispensable companion. It is 
 decidedly the best work of the kind 
 we have ever seen. It is ornament- 
 ed with several elegant plates. 
 
 Application was made, in 1838, to the 
 General Court of Massachusetts for 
 legislative patronage to this work. 
 T/te subject was referred to the 
 Committee on Education, which 
 consisted of Messrs. SAVAGE of 
 Boston, GREENE of New Bedford, 
 WILDER of Leominster, ETHE- 
 RIDGE of Charlestown, GREEN- 
 LEAF of Bradford, EDWARDS of 
 Southampton, and HOOKER of 
 Springfield. The following is an 
 extract from their report : 
 
 " It is obvious from the nature 
 and design of the work, that, if well 
 executed, it will be of great practi- 
 cal utility to men of business ; and 
 indeed, to all classes of our citizens. 
 Especially will it be valuable as a 
 book of reference, imbodying, in a 
 condensed and comprehensive form, 
 a great variety of useful information 
 in relation to our community. And 
 in regard to the manner of its exe- 
 cution, the committee are of opinion, 
 so far as they can judge from the 
 specimen exhibited to them, that it 
 will be a work of merit, fully an- 
 swering the purpose contemplated ; 
 and they have a further pledge of 
 this in the untiring industry, the 
 minute and accurate research, and 
 the skilful arrangement and con- 
 densation of facts which have char- 
 acterized the works heretofore pub- 
 lished by Mr. Hayward, and which 
 are now before the public." 
 
 The NEW ENGLAND GAZET- 
 TEER is sold by subscription only.
 
 HAYWARD'S STATISTICAL WORKS. 
 
 THE COLUMBIAN TRAVELLER AND STATISTICAL 
 REGISTER. 
 
 THE NEW ENGLAND AND NEW YORK LAW REGISTER, 
 
 for the years 1835--6. This work contains the terms of all the Courts, 
 and more than twenty-Jive thousand names of State and Judicial Officers. 
 
 THE MASSACHUSETTS DIRECTORY, OR GAZETTEER. 
 
 THE RELIGIOUS CREEDS AND STATISTICS OF EVERY 
 
 CHRISTIAN DENOMINATION IN AMERICA, with some Ac- 
 c*bunt of the Jews, Deists, &c. 
 
 PRICES OF FORTY ARTICLES FOR FORTY YEARS. 
 
 COMPARATIVE VIEWS OF NEW ENGLAND, NEW 
 YORK, AND THE UNITED STATES 1837. 
 
 These works contain a great variety of statistical, geographical, judicial, 
 religious, and political information, compressed in a small compass, and so 
 arranged as to answer an almost innumerable number of questions, on 
 those subjects, without labor, and at a small expense. 
 
 The above works have been highly recommended by many of our most 
 distinguished citizens. The Religious Creeds and Statistics has become a 
 standard authority in America, and as such is quoted in Great Britain. 
 From among the numerous testimonials in favor of this work, from various 
 religious sects and parties, we have room only for the following, from the 
 Saturday Chronicle, a valuable journal, published in Philadelphia : 
 
 " In this excellent and very useful work, the tenets of every denomina- 
 tion in the United States and British Provinces, are unfolded to public 
 view; and that, too, in so concise yet comprehensive a manner, that a 
 few minutes' study will suffice to make a man master of all necessary par- 
 ticulars relating to any particular sect. One great charm of the volume 
 is its evident impartiality. The editor, who is already well known as 
 having published the 'Columbian Traveller,' has nowhere indulged in 
 prejudice of faith or party the odium theologicum is not to be found in 
 his pages. 
 
 " Not only are accounts of all Christian denominations given, from the 
 earliest ages down to Mormonism,but a sketch of the religious sentiments 
 of Jews, American Indians, Deists, Mahometans, &c., is also supplied. 
 In short, the publication is a complete multum in parvo ; for, in a neat 
 pocket volume, are included the numerous creeds, and a description of all 
 the different modes of worshipping the Creator, 
 
 ' Jiy saint, by savage, or by sage.' " 
 
 * # * These Publications are for sale by the Booksellers generally.
 
 THE FOLLOWING CIRCULAR 
 
 HAS BEEN ISSUED FOR 
 
 THE NORTHERN REGISTER, 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OP THE NEW ENGLAND GAZETTEER. 
 
 This publication is designed to comprise the rise and progress of all the 
 important literary, religious, moral, and charitable institutions in NEW 
 ENGLAND an account of the Churches and Ministers in the several towns, 
 from their origin and settlement to the present time the rise and extent of 
 internal improvements statistics of various kinds lists of Courts, At- 
 torneys at law, Physicians, Literary and Religious Journals, Newspapers, 
 Banks, Postmasters, &c. &c. to which will be added brief notices of 
 distinguished men. In short, the REGISTER is designed to comprise all 
 that may be considered important and useful, in a work of this kind, in 
 relation to New England, and which is not contained in the NEW ENGLAND 
 GAZETTEER. In the accomplishment of this work, the editor deems it 
 expedient to apprize his friends, by way of questions, what are the prin- 
 cipal topics on which information is desired. 
 
 These questions may be answered by our friends, in whole or in part, as 
 it may suit the convenience of those who may notice them, and trans- 
 mitted in any way most agreeable to themselves. 
 
 It is very desirable that the following questions should be answered as 
 fully as possible, and such other information appended, as may be deemed 
 worthy of record in a work intended to note a great variety of facts in 
 regard to the character, institutions, and present condition of every county 
 and town in our own beloved New England. By the renewed kindness of 
 his correspondents and friends, the Editor hopes to show, by the REGISTER, 
 that the liberal patronage bestowed on the NEW ENGLAND GAZETTEER, 
 has not been in vain. 
 
 The Register will be brought down to January, 1840, and will probably 
 appear in April following. 
 
 BOSTON, September, 1839. JOHN HAYWARD. 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 What ia the number of religious societies in the town ? When were 
 those societies formed, and when were houses of public worship erected ? 
 
 What are the names of the clergymen who have been settled in the 
 town ; when did they commence their ministry, and at what time did their 
 pastoral labors cease ? 
 
 (J3 3 We are aware that the above are difficult questions to be answered, 
 without the kind assistance of our clerical friends, to whom they are re- 
 spectfully addressed.
 
 The Northern Register. 
 
 The formation of a church, the settlement of a minister, or the erection 
 of a meeting-house, are important occurrences in the history of our New 
 England towns; they serve as EPOCHS, from which may be obtained, with 
 great accuracy and convenience, the dates of many other interesting events. 
 
 Please to state the names of the Attorneys at law and Physicians now 
 in practice ; also, the names of the Postmasters in the town, with the names 
 of the villages in which they are located. 
 
 What institutions have you in the town of a moral, religious, or literary 
 character ? Are there any Academies, High Schools, or Seminaries of 
 learning of a higher class than common schools ? if so, be so kind as to 
 state the date of their foundation, their funds, the number of students, 
 prospects, and the names of their principal instructors. 
 
 What is the amount of money annually expended in the town for the 
 education of youth ? 
 
 If Newspapers, or other periodical works, are published at your place, an 
 account of their origin and progress will be gratefully received from their 
 respective editors. 
 
 What is the area of the town in square miles, or acres ; what are its 
 agricultural productions, and what portions of the land are cultivated, 
 wooded, or waste ? 
 
 Do minerals of any kind, or mineral springs, exist in the town ? if so, 
 what are their character ? 
 
 If there are in the town any mountains, waterfalls, singular formations 
 of the earth, extraordinary natural productions, or curiosities of any kind 
 worthy of notice, please to describe them. 
 
 What rivers, lakes, or ponds, water the town ? What is the area and 
 depth of the ponds, and what is the hydraulic power of the streams? 
 
 It may be observed, that in estimating the value of a mill-privilege, that 
 not only the descent of the stream is required, but the number of cubic 
 inches of water, per second, at the drycst season of the year, should be fairly 
 stated. 
 
 What articles are manufactured in the town ; what is the annual 
 amount of each, what capital is invested, and what number of hands are 
 thus employed ? 
 
 Did the Indians leave a name to the town, or to any part of it ; or to any 
 river, mountain, lake, or pond within its limits? If yea, please state what 
 that name was, and its probable signification ? 
 
 Why was the town called by its present name ? 
 
 What persons have resided in the town who were distinguished for their 
 genius, piety, patriotism, or eccentricities ? Brief biographical sketches 
 of eminent characters are respectfully solicited. They would add much 
 to the value of our volume. 
 
 Please to examine " Hayward's New England Gazetteer," and suggest 
 any corrections or additions which may be desired.
 
 UCSB LIBRARY