Part 1

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THE

RURAL MAGAZINE,

AND

LITERARY EVENING FIRE-SIDE.

VOL. I. PHILADELPHIA, _Eleventh Month, 1820_. _No. 11._

FOR THE RURAL MAGAZINE.

THE DESULTORY REMARKER.

No. X.

When casting around for topics, to which the attention of my readers may be solicited, they sometimes start up in almost every quarter; and the principal difficulty arises in the task of selection. It is, however, altogether probable, that like the young lady, who after disregarding the pretensions of men of sense and merit, at length gives her hand to some empty-pated coxcomb, my final determination may not always furnish the most conclusive evidence of wisdom or correct taste. Notwithstanding this may be the case, it is possible that here and there, at distant intervals, something may be found from which improvement may be derived by those who are in pursuit of it.

On the present occasion, the attention of my little circle is respectfully invited to a few of the occurrences of the passing year. We are now approaching the confines of winter, that season which has been called with great propriety its old age. Previously to its commencement, and during the continuance of what in this country is called Indian Summer, the face of nature is expressive of pleasing melancholy; the sun divested of his ordinary radiance, courts our gaze--the prevailing stillness is only invaded by the falling leaf--and every phasis in which we behold her, is serene and tranquil. At such a period we are led into a train of sober and rational reflection; and for a moment, feel wisely disposed to appropriate to our advantage, the truths which it reveals. In contemplating the progress of decay, and witnessing the beauties with which we are surrounded, successfully fading before our eyes, we are forcibly reminded of the solemn fact, that human life, with all its sublunary enjoyments, is also rapidly hastening to the tomb. We in some degree become familiar with the image of dissolution; and the departure of those of our friends and acquaintances, who have during the past months joined "the immense majority of the dead," is by the power of association brought to our remembrance. Most of them entered on the present year full of life and hope, and had every prospect of outliving many who are now their survivors; but alas! how vague and uncertain are all human calculations. The past summer and autumn, have in many parts of our otherwise highly favoured country, been accompanied with FEVER in its various appalling forms; and numerous have been the victims to this minister of death. Our own metropolis was for some time the seat of painful apprehension, and no one could doubt the presence of a most malignant visiter, whose footsteps were, however, mercifully arrested by an overruling hand. NEW-ORLEANS and SAVANNAH have experienced more weighty and tremendous affliction from this source; and the sufferings of their inhabitants claim our deep and sincere sympathy. Many of the laws of nature are still concealed from our observation; but it is our duty to collect authentic facts, to reason from what we know, so that in some instances we may ascend from effects to their causes. _It is certainly the part of wisdom, in relation to_ YELLOW FEVER, _to guard with vigilance every supposed avenue of approach, whether domestic or foreign_. The season has been remarkable in many respects. The earth has been unusually fruitful of her productions: the crops of bread-stuffs, and vegetables of every description, have been almost unprecedented.--Apples were never known to be so abundant and cheap. It may not moreover be altogether unworthy of remark, that myriads of musquitoes have for many weeks past been our unwelcome guests. Whether there be any necessary connexion between these circumstances or not, and in what manner it exists, is the proper business of philosophy to inquire, and if possible determine.

Among the events which have recently passed in review before us of Pennsylvania, although we disclaim the character of politicians, the recent general election could not have been entirely a matter of indifference. But whether the election of a GOVERNOR, conducted as it is here with an inordinate excitement of all the angry passions, be promotive of the great moral interests of society, is at least questionable. Peaceable citizens very naturally keep aloof from such a conflict; and from this circumstance alone, the commonwealth sustains great loss. Whether the immense patronage and influence of that important office could not be so lessened, by a partial distribution among other public functionaries, without impairing its essential dignity and usefulness; and in this way the constant recurrence of such disreputable spectacles be obviated as that we have recently witnessed, is certainly a question of great moment to the tranquillity and character of the state.

Belonging as we do to the great family of man, we cannot glance across the Atlantic at the important transactions of that region, without feeling an interest of no ordinary kind. Reference is here particularly made to the bloodless revolutions of Spain, Naples, and Portugal. We are hostile to the spirit of revolution, as such, but the character of these is well fitted to excite our "special wonder." And it is anxiously to be desired, that the welfare of the people of those countries may have been substantially promoted by them; for it ought to be remembered, that governments are instituted for the good of the whole, and not exclusively for the benefit of priests and kings. As Christians and patriots, we may on this subject be permitted to entertain such wishes as these.

With regard to Great Britain, few of us can advert to what is there transpiring at present, in relation to royalty, without blushing for the land of our fathers;--the land of NEWTON and LOCKE, of MILTON, of YOUNG, and of COWPER. The drama referred to, disgraceful as it is, is nevertheless fruitful of salutary lessons. Of these it may be observed, this is not the least striking and important, that however elevated station may be, it is still accessible to the consequences of guilt; and its occupant may be made to tremble at their approach. We may also derive from its incidents, an argument in favour of our own form of government, comparatively simple and unimposing as it is in its structure; but not less efficient with respect to the legitimate objects of government, without which, properly administered, the fabric of society would crumble into ruins, and lawless violence usurp the seat of order and justice. ☞

FOR THE RURAL MAGAZINE.

THE VILLAGE TEACHER.

One morning during the present autumn, I made an early excursion through the fields. The sky was unclouded, and the eastern horizon was in a glow with those saffron hues that usher in the day. The stream before me, unruffled by a breath of air, gave back the shape and colour of the landscape as distinctly as in a mirror. A few chirping insects, and now and then a warble, sometimes half heard from a distant grove, and sometimes bursting full upon the ear, were all that broke the silence.

Captivated and riveted by the scene, I sat down under a favourite beech-tree, to enjoy it at my leisure. In such situations, the mind naturally falls into that train of musing which is most habitual; and I was soon lost in meditations upon the inexhaustible beauty and magnificence of Nature, and those lessons of deep philosophy which are to be learned in its school. From one thought I passed to another, till insensibly I fell into the following revery.

Methought that beside me was a hill, whose rocky sides seemed almost inaccessible. The ascent was somewhat easier near the top, which glowed as if it were on fire. Before the hill was a fertile and beautiful plain, which was terminated by a barren heath, and that, by the waters of a vast lake. A path, the beginning of which I could not discover, seemed to wind round the foot of the hill, till it came to where there was somewhat of an opening in rocks, and divided. One part took the direction of the plain, and was soon lost in innumerable avenues. The other ascended the hill, in nearly a straight direction to the summit.

Where the path divided, there were stationed two beings of a celestial appearance. One of them, who guarded the ascent to the hill, was a youth of severe but manly beauty.

A female stood at the entrance to the plain. She was elegantly though loosely dressed; her head was crowned with a chaplet of flowers, and her whole contour was that of perfect beauty--yet there was a certain boldness and forwardness in her mien, that however it might captivate some, rather checked the advances of those whose self-command was not disarmed by her beauty.

I perceived a crowd of persons advancing along the great road, towards these beings; and when they came to where it forked, they seemed urged forward by an irresistible impulse, yet doubtful which path to pursue. Many attempted to ascend the hill, allured no doubt by the splendour of its summit. Yet I observed that the greater part of these, after toiling a little way up the ascent, turned back, after many a wistful look at the valley which lay behind them. The greater part of the travellers, however, chose the direction of the valley. Some were allured by the sight of verdant banks and shady groves, and by the strains of exquisite melody ever and anon wafted to their ears.

Many were enticed by the Portress of the Plain, who assured them that there was a much easier and pleasanter way to the summit of the hill through her dominions. When they had once entered, it seemed like a region of enchantment. The main path, as I have mentioned, speedily lost itself in innumerable branches.--Many of these seemed to wind along the foot of the hill, so that the travellers easily persuaded themselves that they would soon find the road which the Genius had promised, and pitied the ascetic toil of those who were scaling the mountain.

The inducements to repose, and the pleasures by the wayside, were, however, innumerable. Here a flower of uncommon beauty solicited their admiration, while umbrageous retreats and cooling fountains, presented themselves at every turn. Beings of celestial beauty were loitering in the shade--willing to be caressed, and ever ready to beguile the way with music and song. At one time they would invite the pilgrims to taste the golden fruits, which hung from the branches; or to listen to the melody of some songster of the grove. At another they would join in the wanton dance, "to the warbling of the lascivious lute," and lull their senses into oblivion with music like that of Circe. Every sense was gratified; the sky was serene and brilliant, the landscape in its summer beauty, and the breeze was loaded with fragrance and melody.

By degrees the paths lost their former direction, and all tended towards the end of the plain. I could see that the sirens, who so fatally beguiled the way, kept aloof from this part of the valley, and lingered among the cool and shady retreats at the entrance. Yet the travellers seemed, as before, urged on by an irresistible impulse; although, as they advanced, the way became less pleasant, the groves and the flowers less frequent and luxuriant, and the melody of the birds less enchanting. The sun now shone with intolerable ardour, and the plain ended in a burning sandy desert, trackless and unwatered. The few sirens who still accompanied them, and who were before so irresistibly charming, lost by degrees their youth and beauty. A few withered hags were all that now remained. The lute and the myrtle wreath were exchanged for a whip of snakes and a dagger. With these they chased the band of miserable bloated wretches, urging them farther and farther from the last vestige of delight. I could see a number of winged boys, flying about, and armed with a bow and a quiver of arrows. They discharged their weapons at random, among the deluded travellers on the plain.--Their shafts most frequently fell blunted to the ground. But whomsoever they pierced, seemed roused as from a dream. The flowers, for them, lost their fragrancy, the song of the grove its music, and the banks their verdure. The sun burnt with tenfold rage, and they gazed on themselves and their companions with horror. Many of them turned and fled, and though they were pursued by the taunts and hisses of those around them, seldom stopped until they had gained the foot of the mountain. But the greater number tore the darts wildly from their bosoms, and pressed on more desperately than before. The wound, for a time, would appear to be healed. But whenever they were struck with the lashes of their pursuers, it opened again--a rankling and incurable sore. At every step their torment increased. Frantic and blaspheming, they hurried on towards the end of the desert, where a grove of blasted cedars seemed to promise shade, and the sound of waters, refreshment. But scarcely had they gained the bank, when the billows rolled over them, and closed for ever. The howling of the winds, the dashing of the waves, and the shrieks of the dying, sent horror to my soul.--I turned with pain from the prospect to observe those who were ascending the mountain. They seemed at first to advance with difficulty, for the ascent of the hill was steep and rocky. There was but one path to its summit, and this kept nearly a direct course, and seldom bent itself to the inequalities of the way. The travellers often stumbled over the stones that obstructed the passage, or tore themselves with the briars that trailed along the way. Sometimes they would unexpectedly find themselves at the foot of a rock that hid the prospect before them, and seemed to bar up the passage.--But an attentive observer might discover along its side a steep and hazardous, yet accessible path. Here all their vigour and caution was requisite; and when they had gained the top, it was often only to discover new difficulties. Such were the obstacles, that many became disheartened, and sighed after and sought the voluptuous delights of the plain. The air on the mountain was cool and damp, and often overcast with clouds. Yet the thunder seldom rolled but at a distance, and the lightnings played innoxiously away. The ground was stony and barren, and seemed like a rude and desolate rock. Yet clusters of wild thyme, and chamomile, and rosemary, grew among the crevices of the stones; and shed around their sweet, though wholesome and refreshing perfumes. I observed several beings of a mild and majestic appearance, who went about removing and lessening the obstructions of the way. They raised and strengthened those who had fallen, and encouraged the laggard and the slothful. They cheered their labours with the tale of mighty men of old, or bade them mark the beauties before them, and the dazzling brilliancy of the summit. Whether it was from the invigorating effects of the climate, or the zeal and confidence with which such discourse inspired them, the travellers seemed to gather fresh strength as they proceeded. Their countenances beamed with cheerfulness and hope, and they bounded over the obstacles in the path with alacrity and vigour. A transient gloom would sometimes cloud their features, and they would sometimes complain of the asperities of the way. But a glance at the radiance above, or a smile from the good Genii who accompanied them, would always restore their wonted cheerfulness.

As they approached the summit, the road became more smooth and pleasant; the rude unsightly rock was exchanged for groves and fields of verdure. The air was purer, and more transparent. The landscape around was Nature in her sweetest robe: arrayed not in the unripened beauties of spring, or the gorgeous magnificence of summer, it breathed the tempered lustre, the full maturity, the mild undazzling serenity of autumn. The thrush, the robin, and the turtle-dove, were heard from the recesses of the grove; and the sky-lark sent down his melody from on high. Violets, jessamines, and honey-suckles, were scattered along the green, and wasted their sweets abroad. The radiance from the summit diffused a genial warmth around, and the travellers seemed already to enjoy the fruition of their labours,--But as if conscious that greater felicity was in view, they still pressed forward till I could scarcely distinguish them through the splendour that enveloped the top of the mountain.--As I was attentively gazing on their progress, methought I could discover a magnificent temple amidst the blaze of glory. The dome, the walls, and the pillars, shone like diamond through the mountain crystal. In the midst of the hall I could faintly trace an altar smoking with incense. The porticos and the area of the temple were crowded with beings of celestial beauty. Their robes were purer than the driven snow, and their locks were interwoven with gold and amaranth. Some were watching the rolling incense from the altar, and some were hymning the praises of their heavenly guide, or chanting the deeds of heroes. Others welcomed the travellers as they arrived, and led them rejoicing to the midst of the temple.

My sight, dazzled and overpowered, could behold them no longer.--The shout of welcome, the song of triumph, and the holy anthem, mellowed and softened by the distance, died sweetly away on my ear. "Happy regions!" exclaimed I, "this is indeed the abode of felicity. A thousand deaths, ten thousand years of anxiety and pain, would cheaply buy an admission to your delights." The violence of my emotion broke my slumbers; and I awoke, like Mirza, to behold, not indeed the camels of the long valley of Bagdat, but the awakening life and activity of the country,--the sober herd marching forth to their frugal pasture, the rattling swain, and the busy sounds of labour from the opposite hamlet.

HUSBANDMEN,

AND THE HONOUR PAID TO AGRICULTURE IN CHINA.

From Navarette, Le Comte, Du Halde, &c.

The Husbandmen in China, as to rank, are preferred to Merchants and Mechanics. They are endowed with large privileges, their profession being considered as the most necessary one in a state. Navarette observes, that the Chinese say, that the Emperor ought to take them under his particular care, and to allow them as large privileges as may be; because all the empire subsists by their labour and industry. Nay, it could not subsist without the strongest inclination and application of the country-people that way! China being so vastly populous, that if every inch of arable land was sowed, as in fact it generally is, yet the produce would be scarce sufficient to support the multitudes of inhabitants; and the empire is too extensive to have its wants that way supplied from foreign parts, even if it kept up a correspondence with them. For these reasons it has always been one of the chiefest cares of the government to promote Agriculture, by honouring husbandmen and their profession. With this view a festival is instituted in honour of agriculture; and the Emperor himself, once a year, turns ploughman, in imitation, as it is said, of the early monarchs, whose history seems to be calculated for the same end.

The common opinion, according to the Missioners, is, that husbandry was first taught by _Shin-nong_, who is at this day reverenced as the inventor of so useful an art; which has still gained farther credit from what is related in the books of their ancient philosophers. The Emperor _Yau_, who began to reign four hundred and eighty years after the monarch, it seems, set aside his own children in favour of a young husbandman, whom he chose for his successor. This choice of an emperor out of the country, has inspired the Chinese with a great esteem for agriculture. _Yu_, who succeeded _Shun_, came to the throne after the same manner. It is said, he found out the way, by means of canals, to drain off the water into the sea, which at the beginning of the empire overflowed several low countries, and afterwards made use of them to render the soil fruitful. It is added that he wrote several books concerning the manner of cultivating land, and watering it, which induced _Shun_ to appoint him his successor, and has contributed much to raise the credit of agriculture, as they see it has been thought worthy the care and application of a great Prince.

Several other emperors have expressed their zeal for this art. _Kang Vang_, third monarch of the _Chew_ family, caused land-marks to be fixed, to prevent disputes among the husbandmen. _King-Ving_, the twenty-fourth of the same race, in whose reign _Confusius_ was born, five hundred and thirty-one years before Christ, renewed the laws that had been made for promoting agriculture. In a word, the Emperor _Ven-ti_, who reigned three hundred and fifty-two years after, raised its esteem to a great pitch: for this Prince perceiving, that his country was ruined by the wars, to engage his subjects to cultivate the land, set them an example himself, by ploughing the fields belonging to his palace: which obliged all the ministers and gentlemen of his court to do the same.

It is thought, that this was the original of a great festival that is solemnized every year in all the great cities of China, when the sun enters the fifteenth degree of aquarius; which the Chinese look upon as the beginning of the spring. On this day the Governor comes out of his palace, carried in his chair, preceded by banners, lighted torches, and divers instruments; he is attended with several litters, painted, and adorned with a variety of silk tapestry; exhibiting various figures, and the portraits of illustrious persons who had practised husbandry, with histories relating to the same subject! He is crowned with flowers; and marches in this equipage towards the eastern gate of the city, as it were to meet the spring.

Among the figures, there is a cow of earthenware, so monstrously large that forty men can hardly carry it.--Behind the cow, whose horns are gilt, is a young child with one foot naked and the other shod: him they call the _genius of labour and diligence_; who strikes the earthen cow incessantly with a rod, as though it were to make it advance. All the husbandmen follow with their instruments; after whom proceed companies of Masquers and Comedians, acting plays. In this manner they march to the Governor's palace, where they strip the cow of her ornaments; and drawing out of her belly a prodigious number of small cows made of clay, and distribute them among the multitude, as well as the fragments of the cow, which they break into pieces.--Afterwards the Governor makes a short discourse, recommending the care of husbandry as one of the things most conducive to the good of a state.