صور الصفحة
PDF
النشر الإلكتروني

She has often remarked, even at this distant period, that the recollection of those times will always be among the most agreeable associations of her varied life.

In 1801, Mrs. Adams accompanied her husband to the United States. It was his intention to resume the practice of law in Boston, but he was very soon elected Senator to Congress. Mrs. Adams, always accompanying her husband, passed her summers in Boston and winters in Washington. In 1809, President Madison appointed Mr. Adams the first accredited minister to the Russian court. Mrs. Adams, having three children at this time, was induced to leave the two oldest with their grandparents, and taking the youngest, then an infant about two years old, with her, accompanied her husband to Russia, the first American lady presented at that court. Here also Mrs. Adams succeeded in making a very favorable impression. She was soon so much admired and esteemed as almost to become a subject of envy among the other ladies who formed a part of that distinguished circle.

But her residence at St. Petersburg was far less agreeable than it had been at Berlin. The great distance from America, the rigor of the climate, and the exclusion for so many months of anything like communication with home, caused this high mission to be felt little less than an honorable exile. Although the residence in Russia of Mr. and Mrs. Adams was so disagreeable from the extraordinary events that were daily occurring, their stay was prolonged to nearly six years: not one of the subsequent incumbents has remained half that period. Upon the eve of the departure of Mr. and Mrs. Adams to their long wished for home, orders were received directing Mr. Adams to repair to Ghent, as one of the commissioners appointed to attempt a reconciliation between the United States and Great Britain, the Emperor Alexander having offered himself as a mediator between the two countries.

This took place in April, 1814. The state of Europe being so unsettled, it was considered most prudent to allow Mrs. Adams to remain in Russia. Separation from her husband, and from all other relatives or friends, with the exception of a few faithful domestics she had brought with her, was a trial of no inconsiderable moment.

In the spring of 1815, Mrs. Adams received the joyful news of the conclusion of the treaty, and of peace between her beloved country and Great Britain. Upon the receipt of such cheerful tidings, she concluded to proceed at once by an overland journey to Paris to join her husband. Few females have undergone more extraordinary fatigue than this excellent woman, and very few would have had courage sufficient to take their departure in a carriage alone, at a season much too early for travelling, with a son eight years of age to take care of, and a few servants whose alarm rendered them

useless as protectors. But Mrs. Adams proved that calmness and presence of mind render many things practicable which at first appear insuperable difficulties. She had the happiness of joining her husband in Paris on the 21st of March, 1815; the memorable arrival of Napoleon and the flight of the Bourbons having taken place only a few days previous.

The opportunity of seeing the French metropolis at such an exciting period was ever considered by Mrs. Adams amongst the most fortunate events of her life. Mrs. Adams, however, did not remain long in France; she had ties in England which caused her to leave France without regret. Mr. Adams being appointed minister to England, their children were sent out from America to meet them on their arrival in London; the joy of such a meeting amply compensated for the absence of any scenes however brilliant.

After a residence of two years at a beautiful village in the vicinity of London, Mr. Adams was appointed Secretary of State by Mr. Monroe, who had just been elected president. This, of course, required his immediate return to America; and, in August, 1817, he, with his family, arrived in New York, after an absence of eight years from his native country.

Mrs. Adams now took her leave of Europe, where she had spent the greater portion of her life, and at a period perhaps the most remarkable and exciting that ever occurred in the memory of man. But her mind was too elevated to be contaminated by the habits of a court, and too refined to be awed by either civil or military monarchy. She returned, as she left, the daughter of our simple republic.

The duties of Mr. Adams as Secretary of State necessarily required his residence at Washington, where his house became an agreeable resort to the numerous strangers visiting the capital. After performing the duties of the above exalted station, Mr. Adams was elected President of the United States, and his estimable lady was again, and for the last time, called to preside over the distinguished society that surrounded her. This was accomplished with a grace and refinement of manners still cherished by those who were the happy recipients of her hospitality.

At the close of the presidential term, Mr. Adams retired with his family to the old mansion at Quincy, Massachusetts; but he was not suffered to remain there long before his useful services were again required. He was chosen a representative in Congress from his native State, which necessarily brought his family to Washington at each session, and where his lady, the subject of this sketch, resided until her death.

A relative of Mrs. Adams thus remarks: "To the world, Mrs. Adams presents a fine example of the possibility of retiring from the circles of fashion and

the external fascinations of life, in time still to retain a taste for the more quiet, though less showy attractions of the domestic fireside. In the society of a few beloved friends and near relatives, and in the cultivation of the religious affections, without display, she now draws all the consolation that can in this world be afforded for her privations." Having a strong taste for literature, she has stored her mind with gems from the richest mines, which have often shone forth in composition both in prose and

[blocks in formation]
[blocks in formation]

WE refer again to the "home exercises" introduced in our last number, in the hope that sufficient interest has already been excited in the minds of parents and youthful readers to induce them to accompany us a step or two further in the investigation. A professional gentleman of considerable eminence, writing on this subject, gives it as his opinion, founded upon experience and practice, that by exercises alone can deformities connected with the spine, such as curvatures, high and narrow shoulders, hollow, contracted, or pigeonshaped chests, malformations, etc., be effectually removed. Weak and delicate youths, and others who are allowed to indulge in sedentary and enervating habits; ladies early inured to the fashionable practice of wearing stays tightly laced, all grow up more or less weak and semi-developed in body; and in some who are prone to disease, the muscles shrivel and the bones soften; deformity, as a natural consequence, gradually takes place, first of the spine-the keel of the framework-then of the chest; and, if not arrested in time by judicious EXERCISE and disuse of all impediments to the growth and development of the body, such as stiff or

HOME EXERCISES.

tightly-laced stays, disease will inevitably follow, which will as certainly end in a miserable and premature death.

The most precarious period of life is said to vary from the ages of ten to twenty-one years, when the frame is most prone to deformity; but particularly from ten to fifteen, the pubescent stage, when the

body is in its most active state of growth. The most frequent cause of deformity at this most dangerous period, is the over-exercise of the mind, to the neglect of the body, augmented in the female sex by the baneful use of stays. Many are the children, says the physician referred to, who have been born healthy and robust, the pride and hope

of fond parents, having the rosy hue of health upon the cheek, the sparkling eye and laughing mouth; happiness and enjoyment, the certain attendants upon robust health, plainly marked upon their countenances; the voice-yea, the active romping motion of the body-confirm it; but wait a little while, until the approach of the insidious age, the period when the body is at its highest progress of upward growth, the muscular fibres being still lax, the bones comparatively soft, when the powers of the system are so severely tried, nature requiring to be supported by the most careful watching and utmost aid of science, in supplying and regulating the quality and quantity of air, food, and exercise, so requisite at this period: whereas, instead of such judicious attention, we often find that the too fond parent, ever and wholly absorbed with the mental education of his offspring, to the entire neglect, and even sacrifice of his bodily frame, at this most dangerous stage of his life, often fancies that it is the best age for mental training and activity; consequently, taxes both the mind and body of the youth to the utmost, by forcing him to employ all the hours of the day, by attending class upon class, al

most without remission, to which is added a corresponding number of tasks to be learnt at night; and, as a matter of course, that no time should be lost, a tutor comes in the evening, whose avocation is to urge on the languid brain that has already been worn out and exhausted; whilst the foolish parent flatters himself that he is doing all in his power in order to cause his child to acquire the greatest amount of mental education within the shortest time, and presumes upon the fact that, as he has always enjoyed good health since his infancy, therefore no danger can accrue from a few years' over-exertion. The result of all this oppression the author proceeds to describe, change after change, as they gradually creep over the laughing child, until he has grown into a peevish, morose youth; until the bright, sporting eye has become dull and sombre; the full, ruddy cheek hollow and colorless; the laughing mouth, the rosy lip pale, heavy, and expressionless; his previously ravenous appetite now requiring to be tempted and excited by numberless condiments; and his former robust health exchanged for headaches, dyspepsia, etc., until, finally, death closes his prolonged suffering.

CHAPTER III.

AFTERNOON ON THE GLACIERS.

LE MÉLANGE.

Ar one o'clock in the afternoon, we got back to our old bivouac on the Grands Mulets. We had intended to have remained here some little time, but the hoat on the rock was so stifling, that we could scarcely support it; and Tairraz announced that the glacier was becoming so dangerous to traverse, from the melting of the snow, that even now it would be a matter of some risk to cross it. So we hastily finished our scraps of refreshment, and drank our last bottle of wine-out of a stew-pan, by the way, for we had lost our leathern cups in our evolutions on the ice-and then, making up our packs, bade good by to the Grands Mulets, most probably for ever. In five minutes, we found that, after all, the greatest danger of the undertaking was to come. The whole surface of the Glacier des Bossons had melted into perfect sludge; the icecliffs were dripping in the sun, like the well at Knaresborough; every minute the bridges over the crevice were falling in; and we sank almost to our waists in the thawing snow at every step we took. I could see that the guides were uneasy. All the ropes came out again, and we were tied together in parties of three, about ten feet distant from one another. And now all the work of yesterday had to be gone over again, with much more danger at

tached to it. From the state of the snow, the guides avowed that it was impossible to tell whether we should find firm standing on any arch we arrived at, or go through it at once into some frightful chasm. They sounded every bridge we came to with their poles, and a shake of the head was always the signal for a detour. One or two of the tracks by which we had marched up yesterday had now disappeared altogether, and fresh ones had to be cautiously selected. We had one tolerably narrow escape. Tairraz, who preceded me, had jumped over a crevice, and upon the other side alighted on a mere bracket of snow, which directly gave way beneath him. With the squirrel-like, rapid activity of the Chamouni guides, he whirled his baton round so as to cross the crevice, which was not very broad, but of unknown depth, transversely. This saved him, but the shock pulled me off my legs. Had he fallen, I must have followed him-since we were tied together-and the guide would have been dragged after me. I was more startled by this little accident than by any other occurrence during the journey.-Albert Smith's Ascent of "MONT BLANC." -Blackwood's Magazine.

FLEURS DE LYS.

NEXT to the origin of heraldry itself, perhaps nothing connected with it has given rise to such

controversy as the origin of this celebrated charge. It has been gravely asserted that it was brought down from heaven by an angel, and presented to Clovis, King of the Franks. Upton calls it "flos gladioli ;" and his translator, Dame Juliana Barnes, tells us that the arms of the King of France". were certainli sende by an Aungell from Heaven, that is to say, iij. flouris in manner of swordis in a field of azure, the which certain armys were giuen to the aforesaid Kyng of Fraunce in sygne of euerlasting trowbull, and that he, and his successors always with battle and swords should be punished." It has been also called a toad, and the head of a spear, and Dallaway and Lower incline to the latter belief. I am not going to record all the arguments which have been from time to time brought forward in support of this or that theory. My province is to state facts, and leave you to draw your own deductions. As an ornament, the Fleur de Lys is seen on Roman monuments, and as the top of a sceptre or sword-hilt from the earliest periods of the French monarchy. As a badge or cognizance, it first appears on the seals of Louis VII. of France, called Le Jeune, and also surnamed Fleury, from the Abbey of that name, the favorite retreat of the French kings, and where Philip I. was buried. By Philip II., surnamed Augustus, the contemporary of our Richard I. and John, it was borne both singly and repeated "sans nombre;" and analogy supports the conclusion which one of the most intelligent of French writers on this subject came to long ago-that the Fleur de Lys, or Flower de Luce, was merely a rebus, signifying Fleur de Louis or Flower of Lewis.-J. Planche.

NEW MEDICAL TREATMENT.

A LADY who had formerly been a patient of Dr. C., but whom, in consequence of her removal from Paris, he had not seen for some time, came to him lately to say that her daughter was afflicted with violent rheumatic pains. As she still resided in the country, however, Dr. C. could not do more than give her some general counsel, deferring the actual treatment till she should bring her daughter to Paris. In a few days she returned, telling him that her sufferings were completely removed, in the following singular manner: One night, being seized with an attack, the violence of which was intolerable, the mother, in despair, sent to the only medical practitioner of which the village boasted-a man who, by the help of a little self-taught lore, and a certain knowledge of simples and old-woman's remedies, treated the peasants satisfactorily enough. No sooner did our Galen arrive, than he directed that all the empty bottles that could be collected should be placed on the floor, the mattresses laid over them, and the sufferer extended thereon. The effect was magical; in a few minutes the patient experienced the greatest relief, and finally a complete cessation

of suffering; and though the attacks had afterwards returned, they never failed to yield to this singular remedy. The solution of the mystery (of which the village doctor was quite ignorant) Dr. C. found at once. Electricity, it appears, is the great aggravator of all such maladies; and of this force, glass is a non-conductor. If, then, the electric current is cut off from contact with the patient, immediate relief is the consequence. Profiting by the hint, Dr. C. has since, in all such cases, caused thick glass cylinders to be put under the feet of the malades' bed, and with success the most complete. Another case was a cure where consumption had actually commenced, and had made some progress, by passing five or six hours a day in a butcher's shop. A third, where what was considered a fatal affection of the spinal marrow in a young girl, completely yielded to a process of sun burning, the patient being stripped to the waist, and placed facing a south wall during the hottest part of the day.-Letters from Paris.

WORSTED WORK.

HAVE you seen yet a new material which has just been invented here for tapestry work? It is sure to have an immense success, as it saves all the tedious process of grounding. It is a woollen stuff, made in all colors, with the grain sufficiently marked to enable you to work upon it, and count the stitches as easily as in canvass: and the effect of the pattern, when worked, is even better, as the comparative thickness and closeness of the stuff make it look much richer and more raised. The time and trouble it saves are of course prodigious, and there is no doubt that it will quite supersede the common canvass for most purposes; though whether it will wear as well for chair seats, and such articles of furniture as are exposed to hard usage, yet remains to be proved; it will at least outlast the freshness of the work.--Ibid.

WOMAN'S SPHERE IN MODERN LIFE.

A WOMAN's true sphere is in her family, in her home duties, which furnish the best and most appropriate training for her faculties, pointed out by nature itself.

And for those duties, some of the very highest and noblest that are entrusted to human agency, the fine machinery that is to perform them should be wrought to its last point of perfectness. The wealth of a woman's mind, instead of lying in the rough, should be richly brought out and fashioned for its various ends, while yet those ends are in the future, or it will never meet the demand. And for her own happiness, all the more because her sphere is at home, her home stores should be exhaustless,

the stores she cannot go abroad to seek. I would add to strength beauty, and to beauty grace in the intellectual proportions, so far as possible. It were ungenerous in man to condemn the best half of human intellect to insignificance merely because it is not his own.

The man knows little of his own interest, who would leave that ground waste, or would cultivate it only in the narrow spirit of a utilitarian. He needs an influence in his family not more refreshing than rectifying; and no man will seek that in one greatly his inferior. He is to be pitied who cannot fall back upon his home with the assurance that he has there something better than himself.-Queechy, vol. ii.

PHYSIOPATHY.

MADE in conversation, but cannot recollect sufficiently to write, a vivid and happy display of what may be called physiopathy, a faculty of pervading all Nature with one's own being, so as to have a perception, a life, and an agency in all things. A person of such a mind stands and gazes at a tree, for instance, till the object becomes all wonderful, and is transfigured into something visionary and ideal. He is amazed what a tree is, how it could, from a little stem which a worm might crop, rise up into that majestic size, and how it could ramify into such multitudinous extent of boughs, twigs, and leaves. Fancy climbs up from its root like ivy, and twines round and round it, and extends to its remotest shoots and trembling foliage. But this is not all; the tree soon becomes to your imagination a conscious being, and looks at you, and communes with you; ideas cluster on each branch, meanings

emanate from every twig. Its tallness and size look conscious najesty; roaring in the wind, its movements express tremendous emotion. In sunshine or soft showers it carries a gay, a tender, or a pensive character; it frowns in winter on a gloomy day. If you observe a man of this order, though his body be a small thing, invested completely with a little cloth, he expands his being in a grand circle all around him. He feels as if he grew in the grass, and flowers, and groves; as if he stood on yonder distant mountain top, conversing with clouds, or sublimely sporting among their imaged precipices, caverns, and ruins. He flows in that river, chafes in its cascades, smiles in the aqueous flowers, frisks in the fishes. He is sympathetic with every bird, and seems to feel the sentiment that prompts the song of each. (This, in one sense, is "inheriting all things.")-Life and Letters of John Foster, vol. i. P. 141.

CHILDREN'S BALL.

CHILDREN'S BALL, a detestable vanity. Mamma solicitously busy for several weeks previously, with all the assistance too of milliners and tasteful friends, with lengthened dissertations, for the sole purpose of equipping two or three children to appear in one of these miserable exhibitions. The whole business seems a contrivance, expressly intended to concentrate to a focus of preternatural heat and stimulus every vanity and frivolity of the time, in order to blast for ever the simplicity of the little souls, and kindle their vain propensities into a thousand times the force that mere nature could ever have supplied.—Ibid., p. 123.

[subsumed][ocr errors][merged small][graphic][ocr errors][ocr errors]
« السابقةمتابعة »