Page images
PDF
EPUB

ARABIAN SYMPATHY.

"Weary and faint from the fatigue of our journey," says Lieutenant Wellsted, in his Travels in Arabia, "in order to enjoy the freshness of the evening breeze, I had spread my carpet beneath a tree. An Arab, passing by, paused to gaze upon me, and touched by my condition and the melancholy which was depicted in my countenance, he proffered the salutation of peace, pointed to the crystal stream which, sparkling, held its course at my feet, and said, Look, friend; for running water maketh the heart glad.' With his hands folded over his breast, that mute but most graceful of Eastern salutations, he bowed and passed on. I was in a situation to estimate sympathy; and so much of that feeling was exhibited in the manner of this son of the desert, that I have never since recurred to the incident, trifling as it is, without emotion."

[ocr errors]

SPEECH.

"Speech is morning to the mind; it spreads the beauteous images abroad, which else lie furled and clouded in the soul."-Nat. Lee.

CARRION CROWS AND YOUNG DUCKLINGS.

POETIC DESCRIPTION OF THE DEVONSHIRE CLIMATE.
The west wind always brings wet weather,

The east wind wet and cold together;
The south wind surely brings us rain,
The north wind blows it back again;

If the sun in red should set,

The next day surely will be wet;
If the sun should set in gray,
The next will be a rainy day.

THE DUMB MADE TO SPEAK.

"In the time of Huzrut Moossa, (the prophet Moses,) there was an old woman, a widow, whose years exceeded a hundred, and she had been long dumb from very age; but she still insisted on guiding her family, and kept all her children, who amounted to forty or fifty, locked up in cages in her house, so that they could not go out and enjoy themselves. Weary, at length, of their confinement, they applied to Moses, and besought him to pray to God to have their old mother removed, that they might have their turn of enjoyment. That can be done,' replied Moses; but say, shall I not rather offer her the choice of another husband?' The children scoffed at this idea; but the old woman, in whose presence this passed, got into a furious passion, and her tongue, which had been still for years, got into play at the very mention of another husband. You wretched wretches!' she exclaimed, would you interfere with the favour of the prophet of God towards me, and prevent me from enjoying the good he offers?'"-J. B. Fraser.

In 1815, I fully satisfied myself of the inordinate partiality of the carrion crow for young aquatic poultry. The cook had in her custody a brood of ten ducklings, which had been hatched about a fortnight. Unobserved by anybody, I put the old duck and her young ones into a pond, nearly three hundred yards from a high fir-tree in which a carrion crow had built its nest: it contained five young ones almost fledged. I took my station on the bridge, about one hundred yards from the tree. Nine times the parent crows flew to the pond, and brought back a duckling each time to their young. I saved a tenth victim by timely interference. When a young brood is attacked by an enemy, the old duck does nothing to defend it. In lieu of putting herself betwixt it and danger, as the dunghill fowl would do, she opens her mouth, and shoots obliquely through the water, beating it with her wings. During these useless movements, the invader secures his prey with impunity.-going."" Waterton.

[blocks in formation]

A tree in a complete state of carbonization has been found at Guadaloupe, buried in the midst of volcanic substances. There was no vestige of leaves; it was broken seven feet below the first branches, and the fracture resembled that of trees destroyed by a hurricane; it was at intervals surrounded by a parchment-like, cylindrical substance, the colour of a dead leaf, which was the remainder of a vegetable, called in that country the "burning liana," which is as succulent as the cactus, and which, being suddenly exposed to a violent heat, lost its aqueous particles without the entire destruction of its bark. The whole was found in a stratum of red puzzolanum mixed with pumice. The charcoal to which it was reduced, was the same as that used for domestic purposes, except that a slight smell of coal was exhaled from it during combustion. Six different strata lay above this tree; the uppermost, of vegetable earth, proved the antiquity of the whole, and this, combined with the distance from the present active volcano, makes it probable that the eruption which covered it proceeded from the Huelmont group, of which the Caraibe forms the principal summit.-Athenæum.

AN INCONVENIENT LIKENESS.

A respectable young man was tried for a highway robbery committed at Bethnal Green, in which neighbourhood both he and the prosecutor resided. The prosecutor swore positively that the prisoner was the man who robbed him of his watch. The counsel for the prisoner called a genteel young woman, to whom the prisoner paid his addresses, who gave evidence which proved a complete alibi. The prosecutor was then ordered out of court, and in the interval another young man, of the name of Greenwood, who awaited his trial on a capital charge of felony, was introduced and placed by the side of the prisoner. The prosecutor was again put up into the witness-box, and addressed thus: Remember, sir, the life of this young man depends upon your reply to the question I am about to put, Will you swear again that the young man at the bar is the person who assaulted and robbed you?' The witness turned his head towards the dock, when, beholding two men so nearly alike, he became petrified with astonishment, dropped his hat, and was speechless for a time, but at length declined swearing to either. The young man was of course acquitted. Greenwood was tried for another offence, and executed; and a few hours before his death acknowledged that he had committed the robbery with which the other was charged.— Wills, on Circumstantial Evidence.

HUMAN HAPPINESS.

"I have lived," says the indefatigable Dr. Clarke, “to know that the great secret of human happiness is this-never suffer your energies to stagnate. The old adage of Too many irons in the fire' conveys an abominable false hood: you cannot have too many: poker, tongs, and all-keep them all

OLD FABLE.

Mr. Paravey writes, that a rabbinical fable is preserved in the work of Basnage, in which mention is made of the samir worm, used for polishing the stones of the Temple of Jerusalem without noise, when Solomon caused the construction of this edifice. All this, says M. Paravey, seems to be explained by the fact observed by M. Ehrenberg, that certain tripolis are almost entirely composed of the siliceous coverings of infusoria.

CLOCK AT VERSAILLES.

Preparations have been made at Versailles to replace the clock of the king's death, in the court called the Cour de Marbre. This clock has no mechan ism, and has only one hand, which is placed at the precise moment of the death of the last king of France, and which does not move during the whole of his successor's reign. This custom dates from the time of Louis XIILNewspaper paragraph.

VAN DIEMEN'S LAND.

Some years since, the prisoner population, compared with the free, was as thirty to one; but at present in Van Diemen's Land it is as six to one. This is easily accounted for: there are very few marriages between prisoners, whereas it is otherwise with those who enjoy freedom; and it is also well known that marriages in these colonies are for the most part very prolific, so that every year the disproportion between the two classes becomes greater. -Hobart Town Courier.

DREAMS.

For the most part our speeches in the day time cause our phantasy to work upon the like in our sleep: as a dog dreams of a hare, so do men on such subjects they thought on fast. For that cause when Ptolemy, king of Egypt, had posed the seventy interpreters in order, and asked the nineteenth man, what would make one sleep quietly in the night; he told him, the best way was to have divine and celestial meditations, and to use honest actions in the day time.-Burton's Anat, of Mel.

PREVENTION OF FIRE.

M. Letellier proposes, in a memoir presented to the French Academy of Sciences, to steep vegetable substances, such as paper, linen, &c., in a concentrated solution of glass formed of four parts of potash and one of silex,

in order to render them less liable to take fire.

A SHOWMAN'S PROCLAMATION.

The following proclamation of a showman was taken verbatim as he cried it through the streets :-"Will be shown at the Town Hall, Tavistock, at the hours of seven, eight, and nine, to the nobility and gentry, what is called in the French language phantasmagory, in the English, magic lantern. All sorts of birds, beasts, reptiles, and pantomimes, 'specially the forked lightning seen in many parts of England, but chiefly in the East and West Ingies; also what we are, and what we is to be-namely, death as large as any living being, six foot high, with an hour-glass in his hand; and everything instruct ing and amusing to all ages and societies, both the old and the juvenile. I hope you will all come. If you cannot all come as many as can come; and nobody can say it a'nt worth seeing, except he says it agin' his conscience. Boys and girls for the sum of one penny. Their honest working parents for the sum of twopence. Gentlemen and ladies, sixpence each. God save us all."-Mrs. Bray's Letters.

[blocks in formation]

THE

No. XI.

PUBLISHED BY WILLIAM SMITH, 113, FLEET STREET.

CHEERFULNESS.

SATURDAY, MARCH 16, 1839.

AN Italian monk, having been once asked how it happened that he at all times, in the cold of winter as well as in the heat of summer, looked so cheerful, while most of his brethren of the same monastery appeared addicted to a temperament quite the reverse, answered, that whenever he found himself at all disposed to be gloomy, he looked out of his little window towards the sky, or upon the earth, and his heart was at once filled with emotions of the most unqualified happiness. If it were morning, he beheld the sun, round which myriads of nations-not only those dwelling upon our planet, but those placed also upon the other spheres belonging to our system,—were moving in the enjoyment of the one great central source of light. Nor were they the nations of men merely in whose felicity he rejoiced. He felt that there was not a bird in the air, nor a gnat in the sunbeams,—not a quadruped in the forest, nor a lily in the field, nor a fish in the deep,—that did not more or less exult in the return of the day. Why should he not share in their joy?

If it were night, and sadness knocked at the door of his solitary cell, again he looked to the heavens, and in vain attempted to count the new suns and worlds through which he was journeying with the planet upon which it was his destiny to be fixed for a while. He thought of the hosts of intelligent creatures for whose benefit those glorious lights were created. He felt that, however humble he was, however limited the sphere of his duties, he was one of those to whom the care of the Great Parent of all extended. His bosom swelled with the hymn of praise which those multitudinous legions were raising towards the fountain of life and light. His feelings bounded beyond the thresholds of time; his soul passed for the moment into those regions of space where years, or days, or hours were unknown; his mind overflowed with love, that absorbing, seraphic, ever increasing love, which no temporal object can ever excite. He then turned to the traveller who had interrogated him, and said, "You may think me a visionary, perhaps; but, after all, I would not give these my dreams-if dreams they be for all the realities of that which is usually called life. These are the sources of my cheerfulness. They help me in the performance of my various duties. They enable me to look upon the necessary evils of human existence as so many trifling occurrences not worthy of notice, at least, not worthy of a tear; and, if I feel happy in my heart, I cannot help showing it in my counte

nance."

The stranger acknowledged that he had never heard more wisdom accumulated in a few words than in those which had just reached his ear from the smiling lips of the Italian monk, whose cheek, though bronzed by many a summer sun, still glowed with the vigour of a healthy constitution. In truth, the cultivation of cheerfulness is the secret of health of the highest and the most uniform order. It is, moreover, in itself a virtue well entitled to a place amongst those which are called the cardinal. It fits the mind for study, for conflict, for command or obedience; it enables the body to sustain fatigue; and the person in whose bosom it usually resides has more power to make those around him happy,

VOL I.

[PRICE TWOPEnce.

than the king whose forehead frowns beneath the weight of the most splendid crown.

I have a pet phrase, which I use so often that my friends turn it into a subject of ridicule. An event happens, (not a very pleasant one, perhaps,) and, though it concerns my own welfare, I am very little disposed to grieve about it. My wife wonders at my imperturbability, and asks why I do not lament it? I ask in my turn, "cui bono ?" This is my great resource, my talismanic temple of refuge. Can grief mend the matter? Can dull, downcast looks,-can a failing heart,—can an impatient temper, fit me for bearing up against a misfortune which has really occurred? If it has occurred, it is already passing away. If it only be approaching, who knows but it may by other events be turned aside altogether? and then my fears (if fears I entertain) are so much of merry existence absolutely and most unnecessarily spoiled. If the calamity has come and gone, cui bono to recall it, and to turn it around on all sides for the critical examination of a gloomy habit of mind? My cui bono may be laughed at, but nevertheless there is more of philosophy ir the phrase, and if I may presume to add of sound religion, too, than in many ponderous volumes of sermons which I could name.

"Ever against eating cares

Lap me in soft Lydian airs,
Married to immortal verse,

Such as the meeting soul may pierce,

In notes, with many a winding bout

Of linked sweetness long drawn out,
With wanton heed and giddy cunning;
The melting voice through mazes running,
Untwisting all the chains that tio
The hidden soul of harmony."

I cannot, however, claim originality for my cui bono. I borrowed it of an old man, who deserved to be a brother of the Italian monk already mentioned. He had, however, seen more of the world than the anchorite, and he was never unprepared to find a subject of consolation for persons in every station. "You are unmarried," he would say "well, you are freed from the cares of children-the perplexities of household affairs—the peril of having drawn something else than a prize from the lottery of matrimony. It will cost you but a little industry to make a competency; enjoy by sharing it with your friends. Keep a clear conscience, and all will be well with you." "You are poor-be it so, does wealth produce happiness? I know a man who possesses more money than he can ever spend, unless he chooses absolutely to throw it into the sea. He has a splendid mansion in town-a beautiful villa in the country—an elegant woman for his wife, and a numerous and lovely family. Yet he is not happy, though he beasts of having no want. But you have, I said to him, the greatest of wants-you want a want. This was literally the fact. He had nothing to desire, so far as temporal affairs were concerned. He had retired from business, and was without any regular occupation adequate to engage the energies of his mind. We were walking through his grounds on a fine spring morning. I stopped him to observe a company of gnats who were divided into sets of tens or twelves, and dancing in regular figures. They seemed, short as

Pradbury and Evans, Printers, Whitefriars

M

was the time they were doomed to live, in the enjoyment of perfect bliss. These creatures, said I, have each of them a want, they are full of a love that seeks reciprocity; and while they are in pursuit of the favourite object, what can equal their activity, their happiness? The moment that want is satisfied, they perish. "One man," continued my aged friend, "is less prosperous in his profession than his neighbour. But look at his children, you see none more blessed with talent. They learn with such a surprising facility that it is delightful to teach them. They form for the fire-side a source of unmixed gratitude, a consolation for all the ills of life. Another had amassed great wealth for his children, but they have all gone from his side, carried away by some contagion or an hereditary disease. Well-they have gone to prepare his way to a better world-to alienate him betimes from an excessive love for this life; and it is in his power to remove the despair of the unprovided widow-to dry the tear of the orphan. The peasant, who is below the reach of care, is often the gayest of the gay for that very reason. In short, let us but act upon the impression that there is scarcely a position in life without its means of cheerfulness, and if we only take the trouble to adopt them, we shall be amply rewarded

for our labour."

A PARAGRAPH FOR DRUNKARDS.-HOW TO FACE AN ENEMY.

HENRY PARKER, at the age of seventeen, was, by the death of his master, left alone in the world to gain a livelihood as a shoemaker. He shouldered his kit, and went from house to house making up the farmers' leather, and mending the children's shoes. At length a good old man, pleased with Henry's industry and steady habits, offered him a small building as a shop. Here Henry applied himself to work with persevering industry and untiring ardour. Early in the morning he was whistling over his work, and his hammer was often heard till the "noon of night." He thus obtained a good reputation, and some of this world's goods. He soon married a virtuous female, whose kind disposition added new joys to his existence, and whose busy neatness rendered pleasant and comfortable their little tenement. Time passed smoothly on; they were blessed with the smiling pledges of their affection, and in a few years Henry was the possessor of a neat little cottage and a piece of land. This they improved, and it soon became the abode of plenty and joy. But Henry began to relax in his conduct, and would occasionally walk down to an alehouse in the neighbourhood. This soon became a habit, and the habit imperceptibly grew upon him, until (to the grief of all who knew him) he became a constant lounger about the alehouse and skittle-ground, and, going on from bad to worse, he became an habitual drunkard. The inevitable consequences soon followed: he got into debt, and his creditors soon took possession of all he had. His poor wife used all the arts of persuasion to reclaim him, and she could not think of using him harshly: she loved him even in his degradation, for he had always been kind to her. Many an earnest petition did she prefer to Heaven for his reformation, and often did she endeavour to work upon his paternal feelings. Over and over again he promised to reform, and at last was as good as his word, for he was induced to stay away from the alehouse for three days together. His anxious wife began to cherish a hope of returning happiness; but a sudden cloud one day for a moment damped her joy, 'Betsey," said he, as he rose from his work, "give me that bottle." These words pierced her very heart, and seemed to sound the knell of all her cherished hopes; but she could not disobey him. He went out with his bottle, had it filled at the alehouse, and, on returning home, placed it in the window immediately before him. "Now," said he, "I can face an enemy." With a resolution fixed upon overcoming his pernicious habits, he went earnestly to work, always having the bottle before him, but never again touched it. Again he began to thrive, and in a few years he was once more the owner of his former delightful residence; his children grew up, and are now respectable members of society. Old age came upon Henry, and he always kept the bottle in the window where he had first put it; and often, when his head was silvered over with age, he would refer to his bottle, and thank God that he had been able to overcome the vice of drunkenness. He never permitted it to be removed from that window while he lived, and there it remained until after he had been consigned to his narrow home. Chest. Gaz.

THE LUMBERERS OF AMERICA.

THE following interesting description of the "processes of the lumber business," as carried on in Maine, is from the North American Review. Maine, as our readers are aware, is the most easterly of the United States, adjoining the British province of New Brunswick-the great timber district of America. The business of procuring the timber for exportation, is called lumbering or logging.

"When a lumberer has concluded to log on a particular tract, the first step is to go with a part of his hands, and select suitable situations for building his camps. In making this selection, his object is to be as near as possible to the best clumps of timber he intends to haul, and to the streams into which he intends to haul it. He then proceeds to build his camps, and to cut out and clear out his principal roads. The camps are built of logs, being a kind of log houses. They are made about three feet high on one side, and eight or nine on the other, with a roof slanting one way. The roof The door is made of such boards as can be manufactured out of a is made of shingles, split out of green wood, and laid upon rafters. log with an axe. Against the tallest side of the camp is built the chimney; the back being formed by the wall of the camp, and the sides made by green logs, piled up for jams, about eight feet apart. The chimney seldom rises above the roof of the camp; though some, who are nice in their architectural notions, sometimes carry it up two or three feet higher. It is obvious, from the construction, that nothing but the greenness of the timber prevents the camp from being burnt up immediately. Yet the great fires that are kept up, make but little impression, in the course of the winter, upon the back or sides of the chimney. A case, however, happened within a year or two, where a camp took fire in the night, and was consumed, and the lumberers in it were burnt to death. Probably the shingle roof had become dry, in which case a spark would kindle it, and the flames would spread over it in a moment.

"Parallel to the lower side of the building, and about six feet from it, a stick of timber runs on the ground across the camp. The space between this and the lower wall is appropriated to the bedding; the stick of timber serving to confine it in its place. The bedding consists of a layer of hemlock boughs spread upon the ground, and covered with such old quilts and blankets as the tenants can bring away from their homes. The men camp down together, with their heads to the lower wall and their feet towards the fire. Before going to bed, they replenish their fire; some two or more of them being employed in putting on such logs, as with their handspikes they can manage to pile into the chimney. the walls of the building are not very tight, the cool air plays freely round the head of the sleeper, making a difference of temperature between the head and the feet not altogether agreeable to one unused to sleep in camps. A rough bench and table complete the furniture of the establishment. A camp very similar, though not so large in its dimensions, is built near for the oxen. On the top of this the hay is piled up, giving it some warmth, while it is conve nient for feeding.

As

"A large logging concern will require a number of camps, which will be distributed over the tract, so as best to accommodate the timber. One camp serves generally for one or two teams. A team, in ordinary logging parlance, expresses, not only the set of four or six oxen that draw the logs, but likewise a gang of men employed to tend them. It takes from three or four to seven or eight men, to keep one team employed; one man being employed in driving the cattle, and the others in cutting down the trees, cutting them into logs, barking them, and cutting and clearing the way to each tree. The number of hands required, depends upon the distance to be hauled inversely. That is, most hands are required when the distance is shortest; because the oxen, returning more frequently, require their loads to be prepared more expeditiously. Having built their camps, or while building them, the main roads are to be cut out. These run from the camps to the landing places, or some stream of sufficient size to float down the logs on the spring freshet. Other roads are cut to other clumps of timber. They are made by cutting and clearing away the underbrush, and such trees and old logs as may be in the way, to a sufficient width for the team of oxen, with the bob sled and timber on it, to pass conveniently. The bob sled is made to carry one end of the timber only, the other drags upon the ground; and the bark is chipped off, that the log may slip along more easily.

46

"The teams proceed to the woods when the first snows come, with the hands who are not already there, and the supplies. The

supplies consist principally of pork and flour for the men, and Indian meal for the oxen. Some beans, tea, and molasses, are added. Formerly hogsheads of rum were considered indispensable, and I have before me a bill of supplies for a logging concern of three teams in 1827-28, in which I find one hundred and eighty gallons of rum charged. But of late, very few respectable lumberers take any spirits with them. And the logging business is consequently carried on with much more method, economy, and profit. The pork and flour must be of the best quality. Lumberers are seldom content to take any of an inferior sort; and even now, when flour is twelve dollars a barrel, they are not to be satisfied with the coarser bread stuffs.

"Hay is procured as near to the camps as possible. But as most of the timber lands are remote from settlements, it is generally necessary to haul it a considerable distance. And as it must be purchased of the nearest settlers, they are enabled to obtain very high prices. From twelve to twenty dollars per ton is usually paid. When the expense of hauling it to the camp is added, the whole cost is frequently as high as thirty dollars a ton, and sometimes much higher. Owners of timber lands at a distance from settlements, may make a great saving, by clearing up a piece of their land, and raising their own hay. "Some one of the hands, who has not so much efficiency in getting timber, as skill in kneading bread and frying pork, is appointed to the office of cook. Salt pork, flour, bread, and tea, constitute the regular routine of the meals, varied sometimes with salt fish or salt beef. Potatoes are used when they can be had. Now and then, perhaps, when the snow is deep, they catch a deer, and live on venison.

"The men are employed, through the day, in cutting the timber and driving the teams. In the evening some take care of the oxen; some cut wood for the fire; then they amuse themselves with stories and singing, or in other ways, until they feel inclined to turn in upon the universal bed. On Sundays the employer claims no control over their time, beyond the taking care of the cattle, the fire, and the cooking. On this day, they do their washing and mending; some employ themselves besides, in seeking timber, and some in hunting partridges; whilst some remain in the camp and read the Bible.

established, extending across the river, for the purpose of stopping all the logs that come down. It is made by a floating chain of logs connected by iron links, and supported at suitable distances by solid piers built in the river; without this it would be impossible to stop a large part of the logs, and they would be carried on the freshet down the river, and out to sea. The boom is owned by an individual who derives a large profit from the boomage, which is thirty-five cents per thousand on all logs coming into it. The boom cost the present owner about 40,000 dollars. He has offered it for sale for 45,000 dollars. It is said the net income from it last year, was 15,000 dollars.

"Here all the logs that come down the Penobscot, are collected in one immense mass, covering many acres, where is intermingled the property of all the owners of timber lands, in all the broad region that is watered by the Penobscot and its branches, from the east line of Canada above Moosehead Lake, on the one side, to the west line of New Brunswick, on the other. Here the timber remains, till the logs can be sorted out for each owner, and rafted together to be floated to the mills or other places below. Rafting is the connecting the logs together by cordage, which is secured by pins driven into each log, forming them into bands, like the ranks of a regiment. This operation is performed by the owner of the boom. The ownership of the timber is ascertained by the marks which have been chopped into each log before it left the woods; each owner having a mark, or combination of marks, of his own. When the boom is full, only the logs lowest down can be got at, and the proprietors of other logs must wait weeks, sometimes months, before they can get them out, to their great inconvenience and damage.

"After the logs are raited, and out of the boom, a great part of them are lodged for convenience, in a place called Pen Cove, which is a large and secure basin in the river, about two miles below the boom. From this cove they can be taken out as they are wanted for the mills below. While in the boom, and at other places on the river, they are liable to great loss from plun derers. The owners or drivers of logs will frequently smuggle all that come in their way, without regard to marks. The owners or conductors of some of the mills on the river are said to be not above encouraging and practising this species of piracy. Indeed timber, in all its stages, seems to be considered a fair object for plunderers, from the petty pilferer who steals into the woods, fells a tree, cuts it into shingles and carries it out on his back, to the comparatively rich owner of thousands of dollars.

"They remain in the woods from the commencement of sledding, some time in December, until some time in March; in the course of which month, their labours are usually brought to a close, either by the snow's getting too shallow or too deep. If there are heavy thaws, the snow runs off, not leaving enough to make good "When the logs have been sawn at the mills, there is another hauling. If, on the other hand, it gets to be four or five feet deep, rafting of the boards, which are floated down the river to Bangor, the oxen cannot break through it, to make the path which it is to be embarked on board the coasters for Boston. In this pro necessary to form, in order to get at each individual tree. The cess they are subject to much injury, first by the mode of catchmen and teams then leave the woods. Sometimes one or two ing them as they come from the mill sluices, the rafters making remain, to be at hand when the streams open. I know one, who use of a picaroon, or pole with a spike in the end of it, which is last winter stayed by himself in the woods, fifteen or twenty miles repeatedly and unmercifully driven into the boards, taking out from the nearest habitation, for the space of twenty-eight days; perhaps a piece at each time; secondly, by the holes made by during which time he earned 203 dollars by getting in timber with the pins driven into the boards in rafting; and thirdly, by the his axe alone, being allowed for it at the same rate per thousand rocks and rapids and shallows in the river, breaking the rafts to that the lumberers were, in getting it in with their teams. He pieces, and splitting up the boards as they descend. These infound some berths in the banks of the stream, where all that was conveniences will be partly remedied by the railroad now in necessary was to fell the tree so that it should fall directly upon operation, unless other inconveniences in the use of it should be the water, and there cut it into logs to be ready for running. found to overbalance them.

"When the streams are opened, and there is a sufficient freshet to float the timber, another gang, called 'river drivers,' take charge of it. It is their business to start it from the banks, and follow it down the river, clearing off what lodges against rocks, pursuing and bringing back the sticks that run wild among the bushes and trees, that cover the low lands adjoining the river, and breaking up jams that form in narrow and shallow places. A jam is caused by obstacles in the river catching some of the sticks, which in their turn catch others coming down, and so the mass increases until a solid dam is formed, which entirely stops up the river, and prevents the further passage of any logs. These dams are most frequently formed at the top of some fall. And it is often a service that requires much skill and boldness, and is attended with much danger, to break them up. The persons who undertake it must go on to the mass of logs, work some out with their pickpoles, cut some to pieces, attach ropes to others to be hauled out by the hands on shore, and they must be on the alert to watch the moment of the starting of the timber, and exercise all their activity to get clear of it, before they are carried off in its tumultuous rush.

"Some weeks, more or less, according to the distance, spent in this way, brings the timber to the neighbourhood of the saw mills. A short distance above Oldtown, on the Penobscot, there is a boom

*

"The kinds of timber brought down our rivers are pine, spruce, hemlock, ash, birch, maple, cedar, and hackmatack. Far the greater part of it is pine. The lumberers make about six kinds of pine; though they do not agree exactly in the classification, or in the use of some of the names. The most common division is into pumpkin pine, timber pine, sapling, bull sapling, Norway, and yellow or pitch pine. The pumpkin pine stands pre-eminent in the affections of the lumberers, because it is the largest tree, and makes fine large clear boards. They are soft and of a yellowish cast. The timber pine and saplings are the most common. The former is generally preferred, as being larger and more likely to be sound. Yet the saplings are said to make the harder and more durable boards. The common sapling grows in low lands, generally very thick, but is apt to be much of it rotten. The bull sappling is larger and sounder, grows on higher land, and mixed with hard wood. The Norway pine † is a much harder kind of timber than the others. It is seldom sawed into But it is geneboards, though it makes excellent floor boards. rally hewed into square timber. In the provinces it bears a All the kinds here named, with the exception of the two last, are varieties of white pine.

†This pine is called also red pine, from the colour of its bark.

higher price than the others. There is not much of it brought to market, and it is not very abundant in the woods. The yellow pine is very scarce, if to be found at all in that region.

"We will conclude with some remarks upon the different modes of operating, made use of by owners of timber. These are three. One is, for the owner to hire his men by the month, procure teams, and furnish them with equipments and supplies. A second is, to agree with some one or more individuals to cut and haul the timber, or cut, haul, and run it, at a certain price per thousand feet. The third way is to sell the stumpage outright; that is, to sell the timber standing.

"The first mode is seldom adopted, unless the owner of the timber is likewise a lumberer, and intends to superintend the business himself. The second mode is very common. It is considered the most saving to the owners, because the lumberer | has no inducement to select the best timber, and leave all that is not of the first quality; to cut down trees and take a log, and leave others to rot that are not quite so good, but which may be well worth hauling. Its inconveniences are, that as the object of the lumberer is to get as large a quantity as possible, he will take trees that are not worth as much as the cost of getting them to market, and which, besides being of little value them selves, render the whole lot less saleable by the bad appearance they give it. The owner too is subject to all the losses that may happen, in running the logs down the river. Very frequently he is obliged to make one contract to have the timber cut and hauled to the landing places, and another to have it run down; for the river drivers are a distinct class from the lumberers. Most of them are indeed lumberers, but it is but a small part of the lumberers that are river drivers. A great part of the lumberers are farmers who must be on their farms at the season of driving, and therefore cannot undertake anything but the cutting and hauling. They are paid for the number of thousand feet they deposit at the landing places; and the logs being surveyed, or sealed, as they are hauled, their object is to get as many thousand as possible on the landing places; while the river drivers may be very careless about getting them all down, and the owner may never receive nearly the quantity he has paid for cutting and hauling. In operating in this mode, the owner usually furnishes the supplies, provisions, &c.; and the lumberer procures the teams and hires the men. The owner commonly does not bind himself to pay, before the logs get to market; and he frequently makes a contract for his supplies on the same condition, in which case he has to pay from twenty-five to thirty-three per cent. more for his goods, than he would dealing on cash or common credit. Sometimes, when there is no freshet, the logs do not get down until the second year; and then the trader and lumberer both suffer for want of their pay.

"The third mode is the simplest and easiest for the owner. He avoids all trouble of furnishing supplies, of watching the timber on the river, and of looking out for a market. But he must have a man of some capital to deal with, as he furnishes his own teams and supplies, and pays his men, receiving very heavy advances. The purchaser of it has no interest to cut the timber savingly, and he sometimes makes dreadful havock among the trees, leaving a great deal of valuable stuff on the ground to rot. And if he selects only the best trees in a berth, much of the timber left standing may be lost, because no one will afterwards want to go into that berth, from which all the best trees have been culled. It is common now, in all large concerns, for the owner to employ a man to pass the winter in the camps, living alternately at one or another, for the purpose of sealing the logs, keeping a correct account of them, and seeing that the timber is cut according to the contract. But, after all, there is always found to be a considerable ference between timber cut by the thousand, and that which is cut on stumpage.

"Each mode has its troubles. But we think that owners at a distance will manage their concerns with least vexation by selling the stumpage, provided that they have honest men to deal with."

MECHANICS AND MECHANICS' INSTITUTIONS.* MR. CLAXTON is what we may term a mechanic of the right sort, —a self-taught man, who, having helped himself through life, wishes all his brother mechanics to do the same. He accordingly sets great value on self-instruction, and certainly we have no wish to depreciate it; for whatever may be the defects incident to the education of a self-taught man, he usually exhibits a force of cha• Hints to Mechanics, on Self-Education and Mutual Instruction. By TIMOTHY CLAXTON, London: Taylor and Walton, 1839.

racter, which enables him frequently to outstrip his competitors. Working men, too, must usually be self-taught: for, obliged as they are to commence earning a subsistence early in life, much that they acquire must be obtained in time taken from their brief moments of relaxation, when the tired body and mind naturally shrink from anything in the nature of mental exertion. This must still continue to be the case to a large extent, even though the present generation, to use Mr. Claxton's phrase, "lives in clover," as compared with the past.

Mr. Claxton tells us that he was "born in the year 1790, about a hundred miles from London, and one mile from a small market town." His father was a day-labourer; and he himself took care of a flock of sheep, and afterwards worked in a garden for sup plying the market, till I was near thirteen, when I was apprenticed. My father gave me the choice of being a carpenter or a whitesmith. I chose the latter; and have continued in that business, or kindred branches, now over thirty years. I was to serve seven years for certain weekly wages, and ten pounds were to be added at the end of the term, if I was thought to deserve it." He passed his apprenticeship creditably, picking up information as he could; and, having a strong partiality for mechanical pursuits, by trying his hand in making ingenious toys and gimcracks. When he had served out his time, his master gave him ten pounds, and inquired what he should do with himself. "Go to London, sir,' answered I, for 1 had made up my mind. Well, Tim,' said he, keep your right hand forward, and you will do well enough;' and he gave me a hearty farewell.”

"I reached this great city in April, 1810. From the circumstance of having lived in a rural district, I had then never seen so much as a steam-engine, or heard a lecture on anything, or read a book connected with the arts and sciences, save what I have mentioned, and a poor Geography borrowed for a short time. The reader will bear these things in mind. He must make allowances for the generation of mechanics of that day, which are not to be taken for those of this. A man, or a boy, then, might possibly talk with some plausibility of the lack of opportunities. Nothing had then been done to cheapen, and circulate, and simplify useful knowledge for the mass of the people. There were no Mechanics' Institutions-no popular libraries or reading rooms-no lectures which we operatives could get at, or understand if we did." "I was,' "" continues Mr. Claxton, "just twenty-five years of age, when I saw for the first time a course of lectures announced. It was on Natural Philosophy and Chemistry. The talk about pneumatics, hydrodynamics, &c., was of course all Greek to me; but looking farther down, I found notices of experiments to be made on engines, and so on, and so I bought a ticket, and attended the first lecture. This pleased me so much that I took notes, and also drew sketches of the apparatus. Going home, I sat up very late to write out all I could remember of the lecture; and here my juvenile practice helped me again, even the tiresome copying I used to do for my father. So I went on, from October 1815 till the next April. Then I got a book on Natural Philosophy, and followed the subject up, for there's nothing, I found, like striking while the iron is hot.' Then I made various ar ticles to try experiments with, which my mechanical practice rendered easy work. I went to a second course, and then to others given by other persons. Finally, I applied for admission to a Philosophical Society; but, alas! one wanted friends at court in those days. Never discouraged, however, what should I do in such a case? Let any mechanic of this generation imagine himself living twenty years ago, and consider. Why,' thought I, I am a mechanic, and though that is the very reason why I wish to be admitted, and why I should be, it is the very reason also, why I am not.' It is clear, then, the mechanics must look to themselves, and to each other. Well, a number of us having talked it over, I wrote a circular, dated June 24th, 1817, (it was well I could write one,) got it printed, and sent it round town." This was six years before the London Mechanics' Institution was

ormed.

[ocr errors]

The result was, that a small society was formed, called the Mechanical Institution, which existed about three years, from 1817 to 1820. Mr. Claxton acted as secretary. In the last-mentioned in a large building, used for the transaction of the military business year he went to St. Petersburg, being employed to erect gas-works of the Russian government. Here he remained three years. In 1823 he left Russia for Boston, United States, and engaged to work in a machine-shop at a cotton factory, situated something less than thirty miles from Boston, where he was engaged till 1826, and took a leading part in a society for reading and mutual instruction, which was in existence before he arrived. On his

« PreviousContinue »