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mmCILTI R A In !
From the Southern jhvricullarlst.
Account of the Management of Pusher, the
resi it nee of Dr. Henry Raven-el ; by the
Editor.
(concluded from ocn east.)
The manures used on this place are taken
chiefly is iotw!iollv from the stables, cattle,
sh- :p and hog-pens, and the quantity derived
Iron these sources is suffi' ient to manure the
whole of iiis provision and one-half of his cot
ton crop, using twelve wagon loads to each
acre; out to acquire this, a regular plan is
porseveringly Followed, and as the result is
satisfactory we will here detail it. Al* of the
pere; are stationary and substantially built.—
The cattle-pen occupies about one-third ot
an acre, and is divided into two parts, the
one for milch cows and oxen, the other for
dry cattle and yearlings. In tins, there are
no sheds, but it is contemplated to erect sui
table ones during the ensuing summer. The
hog-pen is large and there are several sepa
rate divisions (all under sheds) for the feed
ing and fattening of such as are wanted for
use. The sheep-pen is also large and fitted
up with sheds—all of these are at some little
distance from each other, and plentifully sup
plied throughout the year with litter. The
attic, together with the sheep and hogs are
nightly penned; and the two last are kept con.
■tantly in an enclosure, consisting of 150 a
• rcs of swamp and 100 acres of highland—
here they find an abundance of food; and so
accustomed are they to being brought up eve
ry night, that there is not the least difficulty
:n collecting and penning them. During the
inter they, in common with the cattle, have
-.he range of all of the fields, and aie only eou
"ined to this enclosure during the summer.—
fhe number of animals which are nightly pen
ned, are from two to three hundred, and from
such a large stock well supplied with litter,
it may be supposed that a large quantity of
manure must be made under judicious man
agement, and that this is the case inay be
learned from the fact, that lor manuring of
the present crop, one thousand one hundred
.nd twelve wagon-loads (equal to four tliou
cand four hundred hnd forty-eight single
horse-cart-loads) of manure were carted out
md spread in the fields. The plan pursued
is simply this—an old woman is kept con
stantly employed in raking trash in the woods,
•nd an infirm fellow, (who is incapable of
performing any laborious work) with a mule
and cart is employed in bringing it in and lit
•cring these pens in which the cattle, hogs
*and sheep are regularly penned every night,
the same pluuis pursued with the stable.—
These hands art never taken from this work j
>n any account. It is their portion of plan
tation work lor the year, and although, both
together could notin the field perform the
■work of one able bodied hand, yet in
this way, they are of more value than
the best of them. Doctor Ravenel esti
mates their value to him, (employed in this
way) at the labour of six hands, that is, were
he deprived of the manure made by them, ho
'k ould be obliged to work six additional hands
to make up the deficiency, which would ne
cessarily accrue in his crops. We doubt
whether the estimate be not too low. Six
hands might enable him for a few years to re
tain what he would otherwise lose, as he
would be able to cultivatejio much the more
ground. But would his fields be in the same
Tgogressive state of improvement, which they
now are, or rather would they not be in few
years nearly unfit for cultivation, and he be
obliged to resort to the 'too common practice
of clearing new fields and abandoning the
old ones. If this would be the result, their
value cannot be estimated, by the difference
of products of one or two years, but the fu
ture condition of these fields must be taken
into consideration. This plantation, as may
tie supposed under such management, has un
dergone* considerable change for the better
ever since this system was adopt .1. We re
irret that on referring to our notes, we do not
find he improvement in the crops of cotton
.and potatoes stated, although the products
were mentioned several times to us. We
find, however, that in the course of eleven
y‘ears, the product of the corn-fields have been
loubled. They at first yielded not more than
10 bushels per acre, and now from 18 to 22,
•and with every prospect of increasing produc
tiveness.
The-results obtained from the other crops
have been equally satisfactory, and when we
need scarcely say that the system is persevered
in. We have seen that one of the crops has
>.een doubled, in the last eleven years,* and
this has been effected under considerable dis
: advantage. No rotation of crops is pursued
on this place, but thesame crop is planted ev
ery year on the same field. -The reason as
signed is, that those two great scourges of the
planter, nut and joint grass are scattered in
patches in some of the fields, and the utmost
'are is necessary, to keep them within their
present limits. This is much to be regretted
Tor had a judicious rotation been also adopted,
when the manuring system was commenced,
-there can be little doubt, but that the im
provement would have been much greater.
The theory on which a rotation of crops is
based, is that each plant requires a peculiar
rood, which it draws from the soil, leaving
< v after it has exhausted all which it can ap
propriate to itself) an abundant supply for
ether species, consequently, that when a pnr
'icularcrop has been planted so long in the
.cield, that it will no longer yield enough to
-repay the labour of culture, another differing
rVom the first, in some of its characteristics,
will not only grow', but yield as abundantly as
rs the'first had not been cultivated there at all,
and in fact, several otc considered as excel-1
lent preparatory crops for others. -Practice ;
has confirmed what theory advanced, and an
•well is this established, that it is usual, w here j
•i rotation is adopted, to manure the fields in !
sueflession, applying ail of the manure to one i
-•articular crop, and this field receives no fur-]
.‘her assistance, until all of .the . thcr crops of
-the rotation have been cultivated on it, and in
one course that which was first commenced
tv'th, is to be again plantcU. The favour
. rtble results obtained, fully justify thisproce*
dure, and it is c\on adopted in the garden
• o'the others, as we have already stated, we
have no note, and are unwilling to speak cf them
li.ia rectllcctxn, 1
THE MACON ADVERTISER, AND AGRICULTURAL AND MERCANTILE INTELLD.E.Vt ER.
where manures are usually to be had in abun
dance. I fail it therefore been possible to
have adopted a rotation, and all of the ma
nures been applied to particular fields each
year, their products, no doubt, would have
been much greater, and the improvement
much more evident. But even as it is, it is
highly satisfactory, and our planters must be
indeed wilfully blind if they do not perceive
the immense advantages which they rnay gain !
! from pursuing either this or some other simi- i
| lar plan tor the collecting, preparing and ap- j
I plying of manures. That we pay too little
l attention to this branch of agriculture, we
! believe all of our planters will admit, but in 1
j admitting it, each one has some excuse which
[bethinks, covers his case, and which his;
neighbors have not. The .general one, how- j
ever, is that manures are not to fee had, and
when they are told of the immense quantities'
which are placed on each acre, cultivated in
Europe, they content themselves with the
idea that it is their dense population which
enables the farmers there to effect this. But
; those manure? which are so readily obtained
| there, arc either of annnal or mineral origin,
| vegetable manures are to be had in much more
| limited quantities. Now the first is necessa
[ rily attendant on population, and as this is
more or less dense, so is the facility of oh
taming it greater or loss; but mineral and
vegetable manures arc to be had in every
newly settled country, especially the latter,
and although animal manures contain the
greatest quantity of nutriment in the smallest
space, yet, vegetable manures are equally as
appropriate, if not more so, and wo cannot
plead that we have not enough of these around
us. Our great error is in the want of system,
and if we would but proceed more systematic
! ally to work, we would soon produce a mate
ria! improvement on our plantations. The
plan we would suggest is that pursued by Dr.
Ravenel, and also by Jamef Cuthbcrtli, Esq.
and by him recommended in his Address be
fore the Agricultural Society of South-Caro
lina. These gentlemen employ a certain
number of hands exclusively for the collect,
ingand carting into their pens trash of every
kind, but more especially pine-straw and
leaves, and these bands are never taken from
this employment, on any account, the conse
quence of which is a daily augmentation of the
manure heap, and the quantity made is very
i great. Our planters are too much in the pruc
! tice of attending to this at detached periods,
j and consider it of so little urgency and impor
| tancc, that it may be deferred, until there is
leisure, or rather until they find nothing else
for someone or other of their hands to do, and
even those who wish to pay some attention to
it, are in the habit of doing so only at long
intervals. The quantity of manure which will
be collected, is therefore, uncertain, and no
calculation can be made, based on the appli
cation of certain quantities to anv one crop.
We all have it in our power to collect, if
not as much a3 will manure at first, the whole
of our fields, yet at least much more than we
do now and without incurring any additional
expense. It only requires that a few hands
be set apart, for this special purpose, and that
theseto be employed in nothing else. If they
can collect more trash than is requisite for
the pens, let them be employed in carting up
j mud, (either salt or fresh) and pacing tnisal
j so in the pen where it will prove a valuable
i auxiliary, and be itself much improved, for
jboth of these are henefitted by exposure be
j fore they are used. But on no account ought
these bands to be idle or taken off from tuis
employment.
Dr. Raven el’s mode ofcultute does not dif
fer materially from that usually practised.—
i The cotton is planted about the last of .March
ior the commencement of April, on beds four
| feet apart. Manure is first applied on the
1 list, this is bedded on, and the cotton planted.
The thinning is commenced with the first,
continued with the second and finished at the
! third working, when each stalk is left at a dis
| tance of from two to three feet, according to
I the quality of the soil. It receives from five
I to seven hocings, but is not gone over in the
I order in which it is planted. Those fields
i which are most grassy arc first attended to,
although not in their turn. We certainly
I think ill is a much better plan than that which
requires each field to be worked in its regu
lar rotation.
Potatoes are planted early and whole, as
they are not so easily pulled out ol'the ground
j by crows, &c. and, moreover, yield vines ear
lier than tliose which arc cut; no difference
has been observed in tlio product of those
planted whole and those whioh are cut. The
j slips (called by some vines) are planted, on
| ground from which oats have been harvested,
i I hese (oats) art; manured in the row w ith cot
j ton seed, which is found to be the very best
j manure for them. Six quarts of seed to the
row ot 150 feet, is considered as a sufficient
I quantity, much more than this causes such a
luxuriant growth -that they fall—about 30
j bushels per acre are produced; the yield of
j the potatoe crop we do not recollect.
| With respect to the time of planting corn,
j Dr. Ravenel differs materially from the most,
j 0 not all of his neighbours. Instead of plant
| ing it early as is usually done, it is the last
I crop that he plants- and seldom, if ever, before
■ the Ist of May. The most critical period in
j the growth of corn is, as every planter knows
! when it is earing—if we have’ showers then,
j the probability is, that something of a crop'
will lie made, however bad the season ha.--
been prior to that, lint on the contrary, let <
the season be ever so favorable at first, if
there be a drought at the time of earing, the
hopes of the planter will be blasted. It i*,
j therefore, desirable, that it be planted at such
; time, that it will pass through this critical pe
riod duringthe rainy season. Now wc be*
j Ue\c it wili .be found that June and tho early
i part of July are usually very dry, and that the
rainy season commences about the last of Ju
ly or in August. That his corn may benefit
by these rains, that it is planted so late ; and
his success has been such as induces him to
persevere in the plan. lie has often made
excellent crops, when his neighbors have lost
1 heirs, or obtained but very indifferent ones.*
•The practice of Col. J. Bryan of Connor Tiver,
corresponds with that of Dr. Uavcncl, and the like j
results attend it; thus confirming the correctness j
of the course pursued. We hope some of our rea-!
ders will institute experiments on, and t t this |
point fully.
The mode of culture is this : the manure (a*
the rate of 12 wagon loads to the acre) is spread
in the alleys, and a very large list made, on
which the corn is planted, but in order that
the manure may not be disturbed, (which
would be the case were hoes used in making t
the holes,) cotton dibbles are employed ; the
rows are J feet apart and the stalks feet.;
The crop receives but two workings, anda|
good one, lias been made with only one hoe-1
ing. The product we have already stated—j
the blades are exposed to the sun but for one j
day which is found sufficient to cure them.—
Among the corn, peas are planted in drills ex
* tending from hill to hill and not in chops as
is usual, they arc thus better enabled to sup
: port themselves, and the product is greater,
j perhaps, owing, in part, to a greater space of
ground being occupied bv them.*
] Another piactice pursued by Dr. Ravenel
| is deserving of the attention of every planter.
[ It is the manufacturing on his plantation* with
his own slaves, from the wool and cotton pro
duced on the place, all of the clothing and
blanketing necessary for the use of his ne
groes; and this is done without subtracting a
ny thing from the effective force of the plan
tation. The spinning is done during rainy
days and by pregnant women. These last are
also thus employed for a week or two after
the usual period allowed for their confine
ment, instead of being placed at once to field
work. After the crops are laid by (in the
month of August) and during the winter, one
fellow is employed in weaving, and he accom
plishes from 6to 700 yards. The ncgroclotli
is fabricated of wool -and cotton, specimens ot
which we saw—it-is thick and substantia!,
fully equal to the service required of it.
The blankets are entirely of cotton, wove
very thick and are much liked by the negroes.
Some cotton blankets which were made and
given to them 16 years ago, are still in use
among a few of them. The greatest objee.
tion made to the use of this kind of blanket by
our planters, is that it is liable to take fire,
and they fear accidents from the known care
lessness of negroes: but were we to refuse to
make use of all articles from which accidents
might occur, how miserable would our r.ondi
tiou be, and how many of the comforts we
now enjoy would we reject. We would nei
ther ride a horse, ncy live in a wooden house,
because we might be thrown from the one,
and the other might take fire, and to be con
sistent, we must either build mud or brick
cabins for our negroes. Let not us there
fore, exclude cotton blankets, when bo‘h e
conotny and policy require of us to make ev-,
cry exertion,-to support not only ourselves,
but our State a!.-o. That these fears are not,
wholly groundless, wo admit, but thus much
we hat e authority for saying, that on a plant
ation in the neighbourhood of Dr. Ravenel,!
where cotton blankets have been used for some
tunc, no accident by fire has orcured, and the
negroes ere remarkably healthy.
The wool which is required by Dr. Ravenel
for the making ot hi? negroclothingis furnish,
ed by his sheep, a large number of which lire’
entirely black, and he is endeavoring to get'
rid of all producing white wool The black
wool and cotton produce a neat gray cloth,
whilst the other has rather adirty appearance
unless it is dyed, and we see no reason for in- i
curring this expense arul trouble if by- keep. 1
ing only black sheep, the same end will be!
obtained. The sheep are sheared twice in the
year, viz. about the first of April and the Ist;
of September, and are supposed to yield about
one-third more than when sheared only once.
The practice at first was thought to be inju
dicious, bv many of the planters, but experi-j
ence has led him to believe not only that
more wool can be obtained in this way, but
that the sheep are equally as healthy, if not
more so, than those which are sheared but
once.
Thus have wo given a concise sketch of the
management of thi; place. • Our time did not
enable us to make a more minute investiga
tion, or to accept of tint many invitations ex
tended to us by oar friends of Pineville and
its neighborhood. It is ; source of regret
that we could not. The planters of this sre-
I tion of our State have long In on reputed to bf
j most excellent agriculturists. It would, there
■i fore, have been peculiarly gratifying to us,
j could we have visit' and and inspected the ope-1
I rations of their several plantation*, and in no
I place could we have spent a portion of our
time, more pleasantly. The planters of Pine
villo and its neighbor’; vd, are wot only cel
ebrated as such, but ar a a among the most
intelligent and hospital! cfourSt-k -, and it I
was with regret, that we tmik our leave, with-]
] out being able to avail eur.-lres of our conti- i
] gnity to gain a more general knowledge of
j their husbandry.
* Some of the pi ' rf 17—'--Carolina sow
! peas broad cast over hf vl. of their corn fields
iat the last ploughing, wh by this operation is
• covered. They are per..',' >d to grow at random,
and in the fall of the v* v as many as are wanted
are gathered, and the h * turned in to glean the
I balance. The stubble is ploughed under for ma
* uure.
Independence of the Farmer.— Thcr mer
chant cr the manufacturer may be robbed of
the reward of i.'.s labour, by changes in the
foreign or domestic market entirely beyond
1 his contrrd, and may wind up a year, in which
he has done r vit.- tiling which intelligence
j and indv ,'ry could do to insure success, not
only without profit, but with an actual dimi
! nution of capita;. The strong arm of ine
{ chanic industry may bo enfeebled or parlyzod |
by the pro tration of those manufacturing or!
common iai interests to whose existence it so
essentially contributes, and on whom in turn
it so essentially depends. But what has
the intelligent and industrious farmer to fear?
His capital is invested in the solid ground, he
draws on a fund which from time immemo
rial has never failed to honour all just de
mand;;, his profits may bo diminished indeed,
but never w holly suspended: bis success de
pends on no mere earthly guarantee, but on
the assurance of that great and bencficient |
Being, who has declared that while the earth!
endureth, seed time and harvest shall not I
cease.
a mammoth SNAKX. —A Rattle-snake was
killed in the vicinity of this place a few eve
nings since,w hich measured iiilength, lOfoct
8 inches, am) ‘ll inches in circumference. |
Qdvnbus Pcmoerat.
THE JfUSi EEE,EVVST.
’ CATI'skijTiTm OUNTAINS.
There’s beauty in the soft, warm, summer morn.
Where leaves arc sparklingwith the early dev:
When birds awake, and buds and flowers are born.
And the rich sun appears, half trembling through
The crimson haze, and dim luxurious blue
Of the fair eastern heavens. —there’s beauty deep
From mountain-tops to catch the distant view
Of quiet glen-wood, path wild craggy steep,
Or cool sequester’d coast where lonely waters sleep
There’s beauty in the storm : —the far deep roll
Of the majestic thunders —like the cheer
Of charging hosts—swells the dilating soul
With love, deep love, and reverential fear
For Him who curbs the whirlwind’s red career,
And grasps the living lightning in his hand 1—
For him who of all beauty is t he sphere—
The centre of tho glorious and the grand—
The light of sun and star, yfheaveu and sea & land.
, Swain.
A steamboat excursion tip the Hudson in
the daytime, or under the bright rays of the
moon, opens to the eyes of the admiring truv- 1
eller the volume of nature at some of its most
magnificent and beautiful passages. What
has been sain of Sir Walter Scott’s seat at Ab
botsford will admit of a paraphrastical appli
cation to the scenery of the Hudson : it is a
romance—not in mortar and stone —but of
basaltic formations, of nature’s grandest fea
tures, dreary mountains and rich vales—the
cloud and the eagle perching upon the one,
while the other is the basin of the cataract
which leaps from the upper regions, chafed
into snow-white foam and feathery splendor.
The associations of revolutionary history, like
‘■thick coming fancies,” crowd into the mind
at Tarrvtown, Stony Point, and West Point,
investing the inanimate features of nature
wit U the expression of a sublime patriotism, or
a proud defiance to tyranny and power. The
unrivalled prospect from West Point landing
is gazed upon a moment with .astonishment
and admiration, in a short time the traveller
has passed the Highland scenery, and the
beautiful alternation of cultivated fields, roun
ded hills, meadows and shrubbery which suc
ceeds, is an admirable relief to the intense
sublimity oT the passage below, and prepares
the mind to appreciate the Cattskill moun
tains which are soon discovered to the left,
on the northwestern verge of the horizon,
like purple pencilliugs drawn against the
. sky.
j Landing at the village of Cattskill, the trav
! eller is soon on the route to the Cattskill
! mountain-house, a distance of twelve miles,
l eight of which are over hill and dale, and the
j remaining four (the best cf the whole) wind
j up the ascent of the mountain in z tf-zag di
reetions. Within about two milts of the
! “mountain-house,” a lonely dwelling, called
i “the-shanty,” is located in a smilelcss gorge,
j with a wild, shaggy,and almost upright wall
! of savage mountain, looming above it on the
j north, up to the very clouds. “The shanty”
• 'binds almost in the road. The traveller
j draws in his breath, and wonders by what
[ strange means he has so unexpectedly been
. introduced to a spot wilder than the imagina
j tion ever gave birth to in its maniac crea
tions. This is said to be “Sleepy Hollow,’
: where Rip Van Winkle snored away two quar
ters of a century. We wish this was the
I identical spot, as it certainly is the most fit
ting one for such a legend; but Irvine, we
believe, had a glen in his mind’s eye for
I “Sleepy Hollow,” a few miles above Sing
! Sing, in West Chester county, on the east
side of the Hudson.
The road is embowered with low trees and
bushes, so that the traveller has but little idea
j "’hat head-wav he i3 making above the sublu
nary world until he nearly reaches the sum
mit. At length the “mountain-house” is
gained from the Tear; we reach the brow of
the mountain on which it is perched, and find
the world indeed beneath our feet. From
this summit, and from the still higher sum
mits of the south and north mountains, a cir
cle of vision opens of nearly one hundred
miles in extent, embracing the counties of
i Greene, Columbia, Rensselaer, Albany, lis
ter, Dutchess, and ports of Putnam atid Or
ange ; besides the distant view of the Green
mountains, the range of Taughannuck or Sad
j die mountains in Massachusetts, and the
j western hills of Connecticut. Extent and in
| equality of surface are of little account in the
j vast panorama now spread before the specta
i tor. He looks down upon the diversified
; scene belotv him as he would upon a level
; vale, without a hill or hillock, excepting ;t far
; distant border of mountains. This fact leads
! many, not acquainted with the laws of vision,
! to underrate the elevation at which they
stand ; hut the littleness of distant objects is.
indeed, the proof to a mathematical eye of the
sublimity and grandeur of the mountain
j height, from which large villages look like
i species, and the broad Hudson like a thread of
I silver. The height of the “mountain house”
j above the level of the river is less than three
thousand feet, while the “Round Top,” nr
! “south mountain” exceeds an elevation of
[ tour thousand one hundred feet.
Rather more than two miles in asouthwest
j cm direction from the “mountain house” the
i traveil r finds the “cascades,” or the falls of
i the Cauterskill, an insignificant brook, which
■ plunges into a chasm, dark and dreary as tho
mouth ot Avcrnus. \\ lien the stream is at
flood, as it was at our late visit, the cascades
arc objects of sublimity. The descent of the
first sheet of water unbroken is nearly two
hundred feet: and this is succeeded by an.
| other .fall of seventy ox eighty feet. The
i dark, frowning, ovi . rolling rock, has a con
centrated and fearful character of sublimity
that exceeds almost any thing of the kind in'
•be large' falls and cascades of our country.-— 1
I nlike the rocks of Niagara, here every thing
can be seen at a view; and the full force of a
vast, wild depth, or of a peep towards heaven
from the bottom of the gulph, must be owned
by every spectator.
But the “Round Top,” a little to the South
from the "Mountain House,” and easily ac
cessiblc through a windingpath and the “l’ud
ding Stone Hall, ’ affords a prospect truly
sublime. Me walked to the bold parapet of
rocks, jutting out in defiance over an almost
perpendicular depth of about a thousand feet.
The little being of a day will of course fee!
some shrinking as ho treads the verge, and ?
will frequently think of the possibility of an
avalanche. But it is unfounded terror. The
masonry of thii proud monument of eternal
power, is nol to be jarred by mortal tread.
It will stand there, while the earthcoritinues,
a batterry of terror, unassailable by the vio
lence of war, above the reach ot any echo,
sate that of the thunder which rolls below.
Here was a place to worship. The air was
puritv itself. Midway down the mountain,
and clinging eiose under the base of the rock
on which wc stood, a ch> id of about a mile
square was discharging its torrent ol rain,and
as the process went on, it? color changed
from a leaden to a white, and at length hav
ing deposited its freight, it furled up towaids,
the north like fantastic shapes of snow.—
Great thoughts of God came unbidden into
the mind, and creation and created things
seemed like the chaff which his strong winds
were driving before them. Heaven only was
above. What heart could have refused to
worship on this sublime altar ?
Thunder storms below the “Mountain
House” are not of .infrequent occurrence.—
1 But those who ace them for the first time are,
! usually disappointed. No cloud, in a thun
der storm, was ever known to reach over and
cover the entire circle of vision; so that,
while all is sunshine on the mountain, the
portion of cloud which is “the brew of the
thunder,” is small, compared to the area of
vision—more sunshine than storm appearing
in the world below. Mr. Beach, the enter
prising and intelligent proprietor of the line
of stages running to the mountain, informed
us that, some years since, he spent a day up
on the mountain, and the sea of clouds below
was stretched to the edge of the horizon al!
around. It. was an even, leaden-colored
floor, upoh which the sun shone, and across
which a steady wind swept during the day.
On his descent, he found that it had rained in
Cattskill incessantly, and heard from ether
quarters that the rain had been general.
It is a matter of surprise that the citizens
of New-York do not more frequently resort
to the Cattskill mountains, for the benefit cf
the pure ail, anu the ex’..derating effects of
the alpine scenery. The accommodations at
the “Mountain House,” are very good, at
reasonable charges; and the company found
there, allhoughdransicnt like flocks upon the
wing, is communicative and well-bred. This
spot, although so near and accessible to the
city of New-York, has been more vuited by
the Bostonians and Philadelphians, than the
New-Yorkers. We had the pleasure of see
ing a highly respectable Boston family there,
with whom the contemplation of natural sce
nery, seemed to ho a part of the course of ed-,
i ucation prescribed for their intelligent chil
j dren; and never do young eyes look so intel
lectual as when, in an estacy of delight, they
arerivettod upon the solemnly grand and beau
tiful book of nature.
TILE BEGGAR ANI) BANKER.
’* Stand out of my way,” said a rough surly
voice, under my window, one day as I set
musing over the bustling scenes below mo,
at mv lodgings in Chcsnut .street.
“Your honor will please to recollect,” re
plied a sharp and somewhat indignant voice—
“ Your honor well please -to recollect that I
am a beggar, and have as much right to the
road as yourself.”
“And I am a banker,” was retorted still
more gruffly and angrily.
Amused at the strange dialogue, I loaned
over the casement, and 'beheld a couple of
citizens, standing in attitudes somewhat be
tokening a disposition to hostility, their coun
tenances menacing, and their persons pre
senting a contrast at once ludicrous and in
structive. The one was a purse proud, lord
ly mannered man, apparelled in silk, and ex
hibiting a carcase of pretty near the circum
ference of a hogshead; and the other a ragged
and dirty, but equally overbearing and self
important personage. And from a compari
son o‘ their appearances, it would have puz
zled the most profound M. D. to determine
which of their rotundities was best stored,
habitually, -with good victuals and drink.
Upon a close observation, however, in the
countenance of the Bank r, 1 discovered, al
most as soon as my eye fell upon it, a line
bespeaking something of humour and awak
ened curiosity., as he stood fixed and eyed his
antagonist; and this became more clear and
conspicuous, when lie lowered his tone and
asked, —
‘•How will you make the right vgu speak
of so confidently appear
“How,” replied the beggar, “why, listen a
moment and i’ll learn you. In the first place
do you take notice that God has given me a
soul and a body just as good for all the pur
poses of thinking, eating, drinking, and tak
ing my pleasure us he has you—and then you
rnay remember Dives and Lazarus as we pass.
Then again, it is a free country, and here
too, we are on an equality: for you must
know that here cvi n a beggar’s dog may look
a gentleman in the face, with as much indif
ference as he would a brother. You and I
have the same common master ; are cquallv
tree; live equally easy ; are both travelling
the same journey, bound to the same place,
and both have to die and be buried in the
end.”
“But,” observed the Banker, interrupting
him, “do you pretend there is then no differ
ence between a beggar and a banker!”
“Not in tlic least,“ rejoined the other, with
the utmost readiness, “not in the least as to
essentials. You swagger and ch ink wine, in
company of your own chousing—l swagger
imd drink beer, which I like better than your
wine, in company which I like better than
your company. You make thousands a day
perhaps, Ia shilling prrhap<v— if you are con
tent, I am—we’re equally happy at night
You dress in new clothes, I a:n just as com
fortable in old ones ; and have no trouble in
keeping them from soiling. If I hive less
property than you, I have less to care about.
If fewer friends, 1 have less friendship to
loose ; and it 1 !o not make as gre at a figure
in the world, I make as great a shadow on
the pavement—l am as great as you. Be.
sides, my word for it, I have fewer enemies ;
meet with fewer losses; carry as light a
heart, arid s.ng as merry a song as the Lust of
you.”
“But then,” said the Banker, who had all
a*ong been trying to get in a word, “is the
contempt of the world nothing ?’
“I lie envv or the world is ns bad as iN
con* 'mpt ; you r arc, perhaps, the on-, and
Ia share of the other. \Ve are matched tiiT
too. And besides the world deals in t
matter equally unjust wit’ us both.... You ai,
I live by our wits, instead of living by 0
industry ; and the only difference between a*
in this particular worth naming, is, that ii
Cost? society more to maintain you than j
does me—d am contented with a little, y O ,
want a great deal. Neither of us raise gruir
or potatoes, or weave cloth, ot manufacture
any thing useful, wc therefore add nothin® tc
the common stock; we are only consumer*
and if the world judged withi 'rict impartial!]
ty, therefore, it seems tome, l would be pro.
n.ounced the clever eat fellow.”
Sosie papers by here interrupted th e con.
versatioij. disputants separated, ap>
parer.tly good frie awl T drew in niv bead
ejaculating.sotiewhi’t manner of Alex,
under in the play,-—i. there then, no mor
difference betweeq aL- 'Uci and the ;
g.ir!
But several years have since tsaired attar,
and both these individuals have j. ’id the ?
debt of nature. They died as tin. v live,
the one a Banker and the other a Begp T- \
examined both of their graves, when ! j ”
visited the city. They were of similar lemn,
and breadth. The grass grew equally green
above each; and the sun looked down :‘i
pleasantly on the one as on the other, v*
honors, pleasures, or delights clustered roun';
the grave of the rich man. No linger
scorn was pointed at that of the poor maiw
They were both equally deserted, lonely, and
forgotten ! I thought, too, of the destinies
to which they had passed; of that state it]
which temporal distinctions exist not tem
poral honors are regarded not—where prii!
and the circumstances which surround thi]
life, never find admittance. Then the dk
tinotions of time appeared, indeed, as an atom
in the sunbeam, compared with those which
are made in that changeless state to which
they both had gone.
DIFFERENCE AND AGREEMENT'
on,
SUNDAY MORNING.
Tt was Sunday morning. All tho bob
wero ringing for church, and the snoots were
filled with people moving in all directions.
Here, numbers of well-dressed persons,
and a long train of chanty children, were
thronging in at the wide doors of a large hand.
nmc church. There, a smaller number, a'.,
most equally gay in dress, were entering aa
elegant meeting-house. TJp one alley. a R(>.
man Catholic congregation was turning into
their retired chapel, every one crossing hin..
sell' with a finger dipt in holy water as !,-
went in. The opposite side of the street
was covered with a train of Quakers, distil..
gun-died by their plain and neat attire, and se
date aspect, who walked without ceremony
into avoom as plain as themselves, and tool
their seats, the mtn on one side and the wo.
men on the other, in silence. A spacious,
building was filled with an oversowing crow(
of Methodists, most of them plainly habited,
hut decent and serious in demeanor; while*
small society of Babtists in tho neighbour*
hood quietly occupied their humble place of
assembly.
Presently the different services began.—
The churches resounded with the solemn o .
yan, and with the indistinct murmurs of a
large body of people follow ing the mirvsfir
in responsive prayers. From the meetinri
were heard the slow psalm, ami the single
voice of the leader of their devotions. Thß
Roman Oatholic chapel was enlivened bv
strains of music, the tinkling of a small bell,
and a perpetual change of service and cere
monial. A profound silence and unvarying
look and posture announced the self-recollec
tion and mental devotion of the Quakers.
Mr. Ambrose led his son Edwin roundsll
these different assemblies as a spectator.—
Edwin viewed every thing with great atten
tion, and wasoften impatient to inquire of hi.
father the meaningof what ho saw; but Mr
Ambrose would not suffer him, to disturb any
of the congregations even by a whisper.—
M hen they had gone throi gh the whole, Ed
win found a grear number of questions to put
to his father, who explained every tiling t.
him in the best manner nc could. " At lor.gtl.
says Edwin,
But why cannot p'l these people agree to
go to the same place , and worship GoJ ia the
same way 1
And why shoulrl they agree ? replied bn
father. Do you r>t sec that people ditlci.it
a hundred e.the - fluids? Bo they all dress
•dike, and oat ;y .and d r j ,k alike, and keep thw
same hours, an 1 use the same diversions’
I" 1 * B osc ; things in which tiiCf
have a right Vdo ns they please.
And they have aright, too, to worshipGoJ
j as ,h °y
concerns mine fhit themselves.
of wowdiipp n g him ?
lie has directed the mind and spiiif tv fill
which, boas to be worshipped, but net the
part’guiar form and manner. That is kft fpt
eve .y one. to choose, according as suits Jii3
• cr.apcr rmd opinions. All these people like
their o'.ui way beat, and why should they leave
• for t ie choice of another ? Religion va*
<u the tilings in which mankind were ntiJcU
dijfrr.
T he; several congregations now began to bo
disiiriised, and the street was again over*
pro id with persons of all the differ nt see!;,
S°iuC promiscuously to their respective
i ir '’ nes. It chanced that a poor man fell doSf.
in tiie street in a fit of appoplexy, and lay for
eond. His Wife and children stood routed
him, crying and lamenting in the bitten 1 ;'-
distress. The beholders immediately Hocked
round, and, with looks and impressions of tit' l
warmest compassion gave their help. A
churchman raised the man from the ground,
by lifting him under the arms, while a Pres
byterian held his head and wipped his far*
with his handkerchief. A Roman Cathohr
lady took out her smelling bottle, and assiek’
ously applied it to his nose. A MetliodiA
ran for a Hector. A Quaker supported and
comforted the woman, and a Babtist tifci
care of the children.
Edwin and his father wa re among the spec
tators. Here, said Mr. Ambrose, is a tiling
in w hich mankind were made to rg*rr j
Center*, i: r.u’.urff rotfth.