72 



Sl)c -farmer's iHcititl)hj lUsitor. 



they fade, wither and die, in spring tliey bud 

 forth with renewed splendor and heauty, blossom 

 and send forth their richest perfume as incense 

 meet for the creator of all pood ; shall we be 

 more imgrateful than the simple violet and not 

 send the incense of our praise for all his mercies? 

 He gave us flowers as ministrators of his love to 

 us, we use them as emblems of love and esteem 

 to our fellow creatures; who would reduce all 

 things to mere utility ? our creator has set us n 

 better example ; flowers are the stars of the earth, 

 her children, and she nurtures them with her 

 tears; do they not richly repay her kindness? — 

 Are we not lold that Solotnou in all his glory, 

 was not clad like one of the simple "lilies of 

 the field ;" they are aesociated with all that is 

 beautiful, elegant atwi lovely; they deck ihe bride, 

 the May queen an«J tlie solemnities of the burial: 

 they are associated with our earliest and most 

 pleasant recollections o/' ^;;if. Who does not 

 remember some favorite flower of "my mother's?" 

 What woman does not remember how often she 

 has been led frorw nature "up to nature's God," 

 by the simple structiue of a flower, and what 

 woman of refinement, sensibility and aflTection, 

 but loves flowers; indeed they bear a close re- 

 semblance to her lot, and 

 "No marvel womnn should love flowers; they bear 

 So much of fanciful similitude 

 To her own history ; like herself repaying 

 With such sweet interest all the cherishing 

 That calls their beauty or their sweetness forth, 

 And like her, too, dying beneath neglect." 



Men may afl!ect to despise them and ask what 

 is their use, hut the most uiipoetical looks with 

 pleasure on a handsome garden ; or even a log 

 cabin covered with vines, and its neatly kept 

 plait ill front, and pictures to himself scenes of 

 happiness, and associates it with neatness, order 

 and comfort. In Charily we'll e'en etid this 

 flower epistle. Yotns, 



AUNT CHARITY. 



For the Farmer's Monthly Visitor. 

 Mr. Editor: — I setid you the following ex- 

 tract which I woidd like to see in the columns 

 of the Visitor, as it contains a lesson to all who 

 ore raised from an humble, private sphere, to a 

 public, piominent station. Ha[)py indeed will it 

 be for such, if ever reduced to humble life again, 

 if they have retained in their exalted sphere a 

 kiudly remembrance of their fonner state. The 

 extract is from the writings of Fenelon, Arch- 

 bishop of Cambray, the mere mention of which 

 is sufficient to warrant its excellency. 



J. W. P. 



« The Triumph of Steadfast Integrity. 



" Shn-Abhnr, king of Persia, being on his trav- 

 els, withdrew from his retinue, in order to visit 

 the country, and there, without being known, to 

 behold mankind in all their native freedotn. He 

 took with him only one of his courtiers. '1 am 

 weary,' said he, ' of being among sycophants, 

 who take all occasions to overreach whilst they 

 flatter me. I am determined to visit husband- 

 men and shepherds, who know nothing of me.' 



"He travelled with his confidant through sev- 

 eral villages, where the peasants were dancing, 

 and was overjoyed to see that his subjects, though 

 at such a distance from court, had their diver- 

 sions, and those withal so innocent and. inex- 

 pensive. After refreshing himself in a cottage, 

 he crossed a meadow, enamelled with flowers, 

 which decked the borders of a limi)id stream. 

 Here he spied a young shepherd, playing on his 

 pipe beneath a shady elm, whilst his flocks were 

 gazing aroimd him. The king accosts him, sur- 

 veys him closely, finds his aspect agreeable, and 

 his air, though easy and natural, yet gracefiil and 

 majestic. The mean habit with which the shep- 

 herd was clad, did not in the least diminish the 

 agreeableness of his person. The king suppos- 

 ed him at first to be a youth of illu.'^trious birth, 

 who had di8gui.sed himself; but he learned from 

 the shepherd that his parents <lwelt in an adja- 

 cent village, and that liis name was Alibcq. The 

 more questions the king put to him, the more 

 he admirejj the strength and solidity of his gen- 

 ius. His eyes were lively, and yet had nothing 

 in thein wild or glaring ; his voice was sweet, 

 moving and melodious ; his features were not 

 rude, neither were they soft and eflTeminate. 

 The shepherd, though sixteen years of age, was 

 not tonscions of those perfections which were 



conspicuous to others. He imagined that his 

 thoughts, his conversation, and his person, were 

 the very same as his neiehbor's. But wiihout 

 education, he understood every thing that reason 

 dictates to those who listen to her ndnionitioiis. 



" Alibeq inforined the king of the state of the 

 people, who frequently smiled at the innocent 

 freedom of the youth. He gave tiie courtier 

 who accompanied him a private signal, not to 

 discover that he was the king, for fear Alibeq, 

 if he once knew with whom he conversed, 

 should lose in an instant his wonted freedom, 

 and all his native graces. ' I am now convinc- 

 ed,' said the prince to his comtier, ' that natiu-e 

 is as beautiful in the lowest slate as in the high- 

 est. No monarch's son was ever born with 

 nobler faculties than this yoimg shepherd. 1 

 should think myself infinitely happy, had I a son 

 equally handsome, intelligent and ingenuous. 1 

 will have him educated at my own court.' 



"The king accordingly took Alibeq away with 

 him, who was much surprised to find that a 

 prince should be so pleased with his conversa- 

 tion. He was at first taught to read, write, and 

 sing, and at'terwaids improved, by proper tutors, 

 in all the arts and sciences which adorn the 

 mind. The grandeur of the court, and a sudden 

 change of fortune, in some measure influenced 

 the temper of Alibeq. His crook, his pipe, and 

 shepherd's dress were now forsaken ; and, in- 

 stead of them, he appeareil in a purple robe, 

 embroidered with gold, and a turban enriched 

 with jewels. Alibeq was handsomer than any 

 other inan at court. He was qualified to tran- 

 sact the mo.st important affairs, and merited the 

 confidence of his master, who, sensible of his 

 refined taste, soon conferred on him the post of 

 jewel-keeper and treasiner of his household. 



•'During the whole reign of the great Sha- 

 Abliar, Alibeq's reputation daily increased. But, 

 as he iidvanced in years, he more frequently re- 

 membered his former state of life, and always 

 with regret. 'O happy days!' would he whis- 

 per to himself ' O innocent days ! Days when 

 ever I tasted true joys without change. Days, 

 since which I never saw one so pleasant, shall 1 

 not see you any more ? He who has deprived 

 me of you, by making me thus great, has utter- 

 ly undone me.' Alibtq soon after revisited his 

 native village. Here he gazed with fondness on 

 those places where he had formerly danced, 

 sung, and tuned his pipe with his fellow swains. 

 He made some presents to all his friends and 

 relations; but advised them, as they valued their 

 peace of mind, never to resign their rural plea- 

 sure, never to expose themselves to the anxieties 

 and misfortunes of u court. Alibeq felt the 

 weight of those misfortunes, soon after Ihe death 

 of his good master, Sha-Abhar. 



" Slia-Sephi succeeded his father. Some en- 

 vious, artful courtiers found means to prejudice 

 the young prince against him. 'He has,' said 

 they, ' betrayed the trust reposed in him by the 

 late king. He has lioarilLil up immense trea- 

 sures, and embezzled valuable efiects.' Sha- 

 Sephi was young, and a monarch ; which was 

 more than suflicient to make him credulous and 

 inconsiderate. He had, besides, the vanity to 

 think himself qualified to reform his father's ac- 

 tions, and to judge of things better than he had 

 done. To have some plea for removing Alibe<| 

 from his post, he commanded him to [iroduce 

 the scimitar, set with diamonds of an innncnse 

 value, which his royal grandsire used to wear in 

 battle. Sha-Abhar had formerly ordered tliese 

 to be taken off'; and Alibeq brought witnesses 

 to prove that they were so removed long before 

 his promotion. VVhen Alibeq's enenjies found 

 this scheme too weak to effect his ruin, they 

 prevailed on Slin-Seplii to give him strict orders 

 to produce an exact inventory of all the rich 

 furniture entrusted to his care, which the king 

 would see himself Alibeq opened the doors, 

 and showed every thing connnitted to his charge. 

 No one article was missing; each was in its 

 proper place, and Jireserved with great care. 

 The king, surprised to see such order every 

 where observed, began to entertain a fiivorable 

 opinion of Alibeq, till he espied, at the end of a 

 long gallery, an iron door, with three strong 

 locks. ' There it is,' whispered the envious cour- 

 tiers in his ear, ' tliat Alibeq has concealed all 

 the valuable effects which he has purloine<l.' 

 The king now angrily exclaimed, '1 will see 

 what is in that roon). What have von concealed 



there? Show it me.' Alibeq fell prostrate at 

 his teet, conjuring him not to dispossess him of 

 all he held valuable ii|)on earth. 



"Sha-Sephi now took it for granted, that Ali- 

 beq's ill-gotten treasure lay concealed within. 

 He commanded the door to be opened. Alibeq, 

 who had the keys in his pocket, unlocked the 

 door. Nothing, however, was found there, but 

 his crook, his pipe, and the habit which he wore 

 in his youth. ' Behold, great sir,' said he, ' the 

 remains of my former felicity ; which neither 

 fortune nor your niajesty have taken fiom me. 

 Behold my treasure, which I reserve to make me 

 rich, when you shall think proper to make trie 

 poor. Take back every thing besides ; but leave 

 me these dear pledges of my rural station. 

 These are my substantial riches, which will nev- 

 er fail me. These are the precious, yet iniiocent 

 possessions of those who can live contented with 

 the necessaries of life, w ithout tormenting them- 

 selves about superfluous enjoyments. These are 

 riches which are ])Ossessed with librrtyand safe- 

 ty ; riches which never gave me one moment's 

 dis(|uiet. O ye dear implements of a plain, but 

 liappy life I I value none but you : witii you will 

 1 live, and with you die. I here resign, great sir, 

 the many favors which your royal bounty has 

 bestowed upon me.' 



"The king was convinced of Alibeq's inno- 

 cence, and instantly banished his accusers from 

 the court. Alibeq became his jirime minister, 

 and was intrusted with the most important se- 

 crets. He visited, however, his crook, his pipe, 

 and rural habits, that he might remember ihem, 

 should fickle fortune deprive him of a monarch's 

 favor. He died in a good old age, wiihout wish- 

 ing to have his enemies punished, or to increase 

 his possessions ; and lell his relations no more 

 than what would maintain them in the station of 

 shepherds, which he always thought the safest 

 and most happy." 



For the Farmer's Monthly Visitor. 

 Rose Water. 



The season for roses is at hand, or near enough 

 to be turning our attention to the siibjcci, and 

 every tiimily can, if they will, supply themselves 

 with this agreeable and useful article. The char- 

 acter of the rose is fully established every where 

 in the soft and luxuriant climate of the East, and 

 in Europe and America, every where a favorite, 

 every where the evidence, if not an instrument, 

 in civilization. It adorns both youth and age. 

 The old lady or gentleman that wears this fra- 

 grant blossom evinces a desire to please, and to 

 be agreeable ; and the effort gains admission at 

 once to our hearts. The youth who wears it 

 displays taste and grace in the moving emblem 

 of life ; but like youth its season is brief — its 

 leaves fade and fall, and unless we arrest it for 

 our use its fragrance too is spent and gone. 



All over the East, rose water is in great re- 

 quest in cooking. Rice is prepared in a hundred 

 or more different ways, but rose water is ever an 

 ingredient. The French also use it far more 

 generally than the English or Americans, and 

 perhaps the French exceed us in the prepara- 

 tion of dishes, or what is termed llie culinary 

 art. It enters into pies, custards, the prejiaraiions 

 of cooked apples, sauces for imddings, and in 

 the various preparations of milk. We are not 

 sufficiently aware how much smell has to do 

 with taste, and how in the various kinds of wines 

 the discrimination is often more owing to the 

 former than the latter. Rose water is a home 

 article, and accords with ouv policy and econo- 

 my ; ills far belter in many insiancos than the 

 spices that cost money, and is still liirther rec- 

 ommended by being more conducive to health. 

 It is so easily made, and the mode so generally 

 known here in New Hampshire, that it could 

 not be necessary for our instriiciion to describe 

 it; but this paper travels farther and wider than 

 these borders; it spreads over tlie country, 

 where it may not in all cases be known that n 

 very simple still head made of tin to fit the din- 

 ner |)ot is all that is requisite to distil rose wa- 

 ter. The workers in tin every where in the 

 town or country ran make them, and describe 

 ihe mode of using. 



From the roses as they blossom daily they 

 must be gathered and the leaves pulled from the 

 steins and salted down in stone jars, or in a keg 

 or bucket. They wilt, and the .«alt preserves 

 them from spoiling, and a Ijficket or jar will 



