164 



THE FARMER'S MONTHLY VISITOR, 



November, 1842 



many years, he lias benii considered, and has 

 considered himself, at ileath'sdoor: it was to liis 

 hearers as if every serinon iiinst !"• Lis liist. liis 

 mind, however, is in I'lill viu<"-, -i"! Iii.^ "riiinijs 

 and even his elo(|iienor', in il.i- I'.i Mr aiid .Iviiii^ 

 state, broutlie an inidimi'jihhLMi ciiiiinsiaMii. in 

 persiiii, lie is sinf;iihuly sin-iil, :ci.'l ol' iheslifilitnst 

 possible li-ame : seen in ihe street, wrapped in a 

 cloak, and covereil with a clorieal bat, he looks 

 achild in the habilimenls of a man. (We were 

 strnt-k, by the way when in Edinbori-'b, with his 

 resemblance to .leftrey, thoiiuh a mui-h smaller 

 man even than the cri;ic of the EiUnhtirirh Re- 



dent, snffurin;:, r.l'l'i-lioMatr ; his v. ire is i|iKrii- 

 lous and low ; liis slcj) and hiahiicr ii,arl;i il 

 with debility, and, if yun dn nnt sindy closely Ins 

 hand and eye yoii wonlil never imagine yom-srll ni 

 the presence of u man in whom tlicre h.cd a 

 spark of energy, He creei^s np the pulpit stairs 

 with a feebleness almost painlul — winie the eon- 

 gregation is hushed in an\iu ;s and breatldess sym- 

 pathy — sinks e.xhansted, into the corner, and 

 rises' at last to give ont the psalm, paio, and ap- 

 parently nneipial to tlie service. A dead silence 

 follows the first soimd of his voice; and they 

 may well listen— lor never were poet's words 

 read with such cadences of music A prayer fol- 

 lows—low, brief, reverenlial, am! wholly free 

 from the irrelevance and fmiiliarity connnon 

 in e.N-temporc addresses to the Deity. Another 

 plain psalm follows— read, perhaps, tno:e de-s- 

 tinctiy and with less tremulous debilily i'.. 'i tlie 

 first— anil, as the echo of the or£;an dies in the 

 arches of the roof, lie rises liir !iis sermon. His 

 cloak has been thrown asiile, anil lie stands be- 

 fore his amlieiiee the sliLhtest drapery of a hu- 

 man frame that would serve to keep his son] upon 

 the earth. Across his forehead streams a siiiffle 

 lock of soft brown hair, contrasted stron^dy with 

 its transparent whiteness; liis thifi and hollow 

 features are calmly and merely intellectual in 

 their pain-worn lines: and Jiiseye, i^lowln;;- with 

 the nmiatural brightness of sickness, large, lam- 

 bent, and clear, beams with inexpressible be- 

 iiiunity. His voice, the most musical to which it 

 has ever been our lot to listen is first heard calm 

 and deliberate, and is not inn, h varied till he lias 

 laid down the iiremises ol' lus discourse. Ten 

 minutes have elapsed— and >on liavr; forgotten 

 the man in the interest he has awakened by his 

 trutii-like and lucid statement of his tl»eme. He 



or «ithholdiiin; of small sums of money, often 

 wasted in trifling indulgences, whii h neither 

 piolii the mind northebodv. Ill this country the 



d< 1- 



.Ireds 



>ut you, 



IS less a preaclier to 

 than an intelligent fi; ■,, ' ' ' -' ' : innnica- 

 tion of personal iiu« . u mind 



is wholly his own. '. -and 



peculiar cadences of lii^ •. 'ee !-j^i . .■> -i- ii;;hlen 

 and change ; his sentences are mure i aried — 

 from the brief and impressive antithesis to the el- 

 oquent appeal, rolling onward with iiro^ressive 

 pathos and energy : and his tones, wliich you 

 had tliought so silvery sweet, fill and gather 

 power, and seem illimitable in compass and ex- 

 pression. Passive-, and almost motionless till 

 now, his slight frame seems to dilate — his coun- 

 tenance kindles— his lips scein burning with earn- 

 estness and fire; and when his thin arm is stretch- 

 ed forth with its wasted hand, at the thrilling 

 crisis of his appeal, he seems transformed into a 

 prophet — instinct with supernatural revelation. 

 He goes on, and his discourse is full of surprises 

 to the mind and to the car. Conclusions spring 

 suddenly and yet with irresistible logic, from the 

 commonest premises; and his enunciation, to 

 which we again recur, and which is as varied in its 

 sto;>s, and as cmions in its ca[iabilities as an 

 ortran, changed iVom pathos to c<iimnaiid — from 

 calmness to im|iassioned fervor— from the most 

 measured and lingering music to the most rapid 

 and accumulating eiilhusiasm— wish a wondrous 

 fai^ilitv, which seems the immediate and burning 

 overilow of inspiration. He is first to break 

 own spell ; he has given out the concluding 

 hymn of the service before a sound is heard 

 from the entranced and breathless multitude be 

 fore him !" 



From tho NewVmryport Herald. 

 Calculaiiou for the People. 

 Few people are aware of the comforts that 

 may be procured for a poor family by the ^ggre 

 gate savings of even fonr-pence-half-penny a day 

 for one year ; in other words there are very few 

 who arc practically acqii.iinted vviili the essential 

 (j^^ojole, as it relates to the freiiuent disbursing 



admitted that our people are hoiicst and indiis- 

 irions; but habits of extravagance are very com- 

 mon, and many people indulge themselves and 

 their habits of lavish expenditure, to ihe great 

 injury of all those who have dealings w illi them ; 

 and when old age or misfortune eoiiies upon 

 lliem, they fiinrthat the injury inliieied iipeu 

 iirliiis (Awn recoils upon themselves. The ac- 

 In.;! wants of mankiiul are in reality very few; it 

 is lirciiiious indulgence that makes ns poor. If 

 llinvr people « h<i leave their homes and go abroad 

 to oi;!ai:i a fr. in:', would work hidf as hard and 

 witii IS mneli M-I:demal in the outset, as they are 

 ofli'ii eomp'-ll'Ml to in their new homes and cc- 



agc of poverty. This is a ride so general that 

 the e.xceptions are few indeed. 



We would neither advocate nor defend parsi- 

 mony, but simply attempt to illustrate some of 

 the rudiments oJ' economy, and to make some 

 suggestions that may pass lor what they are 

 worth. If they benefit none, ihev will at least 

 liarm none. Most people indulge themselves an.l 

 their children, in various little matters involving 

 more or less expense, and the\ are cei laiidy not 

 to Idaiiie for doing so to the <-\ient of their abil- 

 ity; but there are certain phasures in which 

 some indulge, costing but linle in detail, the ag- 

 gregate of which, if saved, would amoniit to a 

 considerable sum, and go far towaiil purchasing 

 a snug little fiirm orcoinforiable dwelling. Sup- 

 pose for instance, a man who hail been in the 

 haliit of spending fonr-pence-half-penny a day 

 lor liquor, or any unnecessary and unprofitable 

 indulgence, were to deposit that sum in a box, 

 am! not use it till 365 days had elapsed, he 

 wonld then fm.l he had S-32" 8U. If at the end 

 of tho year, times should be hard, this sum would 

 be a great help to him in supplying his family 

 with necessaries. Suppose, howevtn-, he should 

 lay by from his earnings 12i cents a day, that is to 

 save it, let us see what it comes to in a few years, 

 if placed at interest, together with the contin- 

 ued daily amount saved, to be added to the prin- 

 cipal sum annually and all kept draw ing interest, 

 by which it would be compomuliiig itself— at the 

 ci;d of the first year he wotdd have the simple 

 amount saved, that is $45 73— at the end of the 

 ad vear Stl4 30 



3.1 ' ■' 145 55 



4ih " 200 05 



.'-.ih " 25r 78 



(ith » 318 98 



7th " 383 85 



8ih " 45-2 71 



9ih " 534 .^)0 



lOth " (JO-J 76 



This may serve to give some idea of the ag- 

 gregate increase by interest and de|Kisit of sav- 

 ing. s_if the calculation be extended to ten more 

 years in the saiTie way, the sum will amount to 

 aboit Slf370:^wcll, who is there that by a very 

 little self-denial cannot save more than 12i cents 

 a dav. 



We imy all ha assured that there is no alcliymy 

 like economy. It will be found that almost all 

 those who are, or have been noted for their 

 wealth, began with little or nothing, and however 

 different iii other respects, have agreed in that 

 of strict economy. 



L\F!.UENCE OF WoMAN. — In the ordinary course 

 of the world, in that intercourse of flattery and 

 falsehood where every one deceives and is de 

 ceived, where all appear under a borrowed liirm, 

 profess friendship they do not feel, and bestow 

 praises only to be jiraised in return, men bow 

 the lowest to those they despise most. But he 

 who lives retired from this scene of delusion 

 exfiects no compliments from others, and be- 

 stows them only where they are deserved. All 

 the insidious grimaces of iinhlic life arc nothing 

 compared with the insjiiiing smiles of ii-iendsliip, 

 which smooth the rngL,cd road, and soften all our 

 toils. 



Of what value are all the babblings and vain 

 boastings of society, to that domestic felicity 

 which we experience in the company of an ami- 

 able woman, wliii,-c> eiiarms awaken tin- dormant 



enei'iiies; \x im^e m.hI-s pnenpl our ,-nle|-prizes, 

 and w hnsi' iisslstaiie,- iii-mes siieeess; who in- 

 spires ns with cuiiLeniil greainess and sublimity; 

 whii, with jndieioiis penetralion, weighs and ex- 

 amines our thoughts, our aelions, our whole 

 chaiaeter; w lio observes all our (l)ibles, warns US 

 with sincerity of their ennsecpieiiees, and reforms 

 us with gentleness and affiction ; who by a ten- 

 der commmiiratMMi of her thoughts and observa- 

 tions con\e\s ii"W insinieiiiins to our minds; 

 and by pourim,' the waiiii ami generous feelings 

 of her heart into our bosoms, animates us inces- 

 santly to the exercise of every yirtue, and com- 

 pletes the polished perfection of our character 

 l)y tin; soit allurements of love, and the delighted 

 concord of her sentiments. In such an inter- 

 course, all that is virtuous and noble in human 

 nnnire, is preserved within the breast, and every 

 evil propensity dies away. — Zimmerman. 



The following quiet piece of satire is aa good as a 

 volume of serious reflection on the evils and absurdity 

 of war :— 



The Battle of lileiiheim. 



nV SOCTHEV. 



It W.1S a summer's evening, 

 Old Kaspar's work was done, 



,*.iid lie before the cottage door 

 Was silting in the sun, 



And by him sported on the green 



His little grandchild Wilhelmiue. 



She saw her brother Peterkin, 

 Roll Boiiietliing large and round, 



Which he beside Ihe rivulet 

 In playing there had (bund ; 



He came to ask what he had found 



That was so large and smootli and round. 



Old Kaspar took it from the boy, 



Who stood expectant by ; 

 And then the old man shook his head, 



And with a natural sigh, 

 «' 'Tia some poor fellow's scull," said he, 

 " Who fell in the great victory 1" 



*'I find Ihenl in the garden, 

 For there's many hereabout; 



And oflen when I go to plough. 

 The ploughshare turns them out ; 



For many thousand men," said he, 



" Were slain in the great victory !" 



'• Now tell us what 'twas all about," 



Young f*cterkin he cries, 

 And little Wilhelmiue looks up 



With wonder-waiting eyes; 

 '• Now tell us all about the war, 

 And what they killed each other for." 



•• It wns the Knglish," Kaspar cried, 

 •' Who put the French to rout; 



fjiit what they killed each other for, 

 1 could not well make out ; 



But every body said," quoth he, 



" That 'twas a famous victory ! 



•' My father lived at Blenheim then, 



Yon little stream hard by ; 

 They burned his dwelling to the ground, 



And he was forc'd to tiy ; 

 So with his wife and child lie fled, 

 JNur had he where to rest his head. 



" With fire and sword the country round 



Was wasted far and wide ; 

 And many a childing mother then, 



And new-born baby died ! 

 But things like that you know must be 

 At every famous victory ! 



hocking sight 



" They say it wa 



After the field was won ; 

 For m.iiiy tliuusand bodies hero 



Lay niltiii:; iii liie sun !— 

 But things like that, ynu know, must 

 Alter a famous victory! 



" Great praise the duke of Marlbro' ' 

 And our good prince Eugene :" 



" Why, 'twas a very wicked thing," 

 Said little Wilheliaine ; 



"Nay, nay, my little gid," quoth he, 



•' It was a famous victory ! 



And every body praised the duke 

 Who this L'reat tight did win." 



" But what good e;iir,e of it at last?" 

 Quoth little Petcriiin, 



J^^S 



