Various

PROEM.

CHAPTER I.

CHAPTER II.

CHAPTER III.

CHAPTER IV.

CHAPTER I. (2)

CHAPTER II. (2)

CHAPTER III. (2)

CHAPTER IV. (2)

CHAPTER V.

THE DREAMS FULFILLED.

THE CONSENT.

THE DROP OF GALL.

LIGHT FROM THE PAST.

THE CONFESSION.

THE COLOPHON.

CHAPTER I. (3)

CHAPTER II. (3)

CHAPTER III. (3)

CHAPTER IV. (3)

THE WILLING CAPTIVE.

Engraved by W. E. Tucker

GRAHAM’S MAGAZINE.

Vol. XLI..      July, 1852.      No. 1.

Table of Contents

I’d Offer Thee This Heart

Summer

New York Printing Machine, Press, and Saw Works

Osceola’s Address to His Warriors

The Miseries of Music

Not Dead

The Game of the Month

Sonnet

The Pedant

To Adhemar

My First Sunday in Mexico

Endymion

The Vintage

Light of Nature

The Mother’s Prophecy

“Settling to a Jemima.”

Snow Flakes

A Life of Vicissitudes

My Forefathers

Cleopatra

Reminiscence

To the Picture of My Child

Paqueta

Recollections

The Boy Afar Unto His Sister

Blind Rosa

I Dream of All Things Beautiful

Anecdotes of Ostriches

Impressions of England

The Exile

Review of New Books

Literary Gossip

Graham’s Small-Talk

Transcriber’s Notes can be found at the end of this eBook.

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GRAHAM’S

 

AMERICAN MONTHLY

 

MAGAZINE

 

Of Literature and Art.

 

EMBELLISHED WITH

 

MEZZOTINT AND STEEL ENGRAVINGS, MUSIC, ETC.

 

WILLIAM C. BRYANT, RICHARD H. DANA, JAMES K. PAULDING,

HENRY W. LONGFELLOW, N. P. WILLIS, J. R. LOWELL, HENRY W. HERBERT,

GEO. D. PRENTICE.

 

MRS. LYDIA H. SIGOURNEY, MISS C. M. SEDGWICK, MRS. EMMA C. EMBURY,

MRS. ANN S. STEPHENS, MRS. AMELIA B. WELBY, MRS. A. M. F. ANNAN, ETC.

PRINCIPAL CONTRIBUTORS.

 

GEORGE R. GRAHAM, EDITOR.

 

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VOLUME XLI.

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PHILADELPHIA:

GEORGE R. GRAHAM, 134 CHESTNUT STREET.

1852.

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CONTENTS

 

OF THE

 

FORTY-FIRST VOLUME.

 

JUNE, 1852, TO JANUARY, 1853.

A Life of Vicissitudes. By G. P. R. James,	49
Anecdotes of Ostriches,	89
Astronomy. By T. Milner, M.A.	122
Antony and Cleopatra. By H. W. Herbert,	133
Annie Morton. By Amy Harned,	183
Among the Moors. By C. Dickens,	212
Aztec Children. By Australis,	223
A Night in the Dissecting-Room.
By Mrs. Louise Piatt,	245
A Visit. By Fredrika Bremer,	309
Among the Moors,	492
A Day with a Lion,	534
A History of the Art of Wood-Engraving.
By An Amateur Artist,	564
Blind Rosa. Translated by Mary Howitt,	79
Brevia. By James W. Wall,	330
Blind Sight-Seeing. From Household Words,	653
Chaucer and His Times. By T. B. Shaw,	291
Canadian Life. By Mrs. Moody,	430
Clara Gregory,	477
Distribution of the Human Race.
By Thomas Milner, M.A.	233
Fancies from a Garret. By G. Canning Hill,	370
Father Bromley’s Tale. By W. A. Sutliffe,	641
Graham’s Small-Talk,	111, 224
Ganga. By D. Williams,	271
Glimpses of Western Travel,	378
Grace Bartlett. By Mary J. Windle,	613
Hoe’s Machine Works,	7
Hush! Hush! By Donald Macleod,	180
Impressions of England. By Miss Bremer,	98, 200
Influence of Place on Race. By Bon Gaultier,	360
James Logan of Pennsylvania,	496
Literary Gossip,	109
London Coffee-Houses. By C. Dickens,	495
My First Sunday in Mexico. By W. H. Davis,	25
Miss Harper’s Maid,	140
My First Inkling of a Royal Tiger.
By An Old Indian Officer,	215
Mabel Dacre. By Helen,	406
Machinery, for Machine Making.
By H. W. Herbert,	469
Monde Hedelquiver.
By the Author of “Susy L——’s Diary,”	595
Nelly Nowlan on Bloomers. By S. C. Hall,	206
Nine O’Clock,	435
Nelly Nowlan’s Experience. By S. C. Hall,	540
Nineveh, and Assyrian Art,	586
Paqueta. By H. Didimus,	72
Reminiscence,	70
Review of New Books,	106, 220, 333, 443, 547, 663
Rivers. By Thomas Milner, M.A.	454, 574
Settling to a Jemima. By Alice B. Neal,	44
Sporting Adventures in India,	380
Something New About Byron. By Aeldric,	384
Shawls,	488
The Miseries of Music. By Caleb Crotchet,	13
The Game of the Month. By H. W. Herbert,	16, 399, 464
The Pedant. By Henry Holm,	21, 161, 284
The Vintage. By A. B. Reach,	29
The Useful Arts. By Charles Williams,	145
The Harvest of Gold,	168
The Shark and His Habits,	174
The Ranger’s Chase. By J. L. M‘Connel,	187
The Giant’s Causeway,	229
The Academy of Natural Sciences, Philada.	231
The Opium Eater’s Dream,	253
The Tutor’s Daughter. By Mrs. M. A. Ford,	266
The Three Sisters,	300
The Lucky Penny. By Mrs. S. C. Hall,	312, 418, 531, 657
The Countess of Montfort. By H. W. Herbert,	316
The Mysteries of a Flower. By Prof. R. Hunt,	322
Too Much Blue. By Charles Dickens,	325
The Trial by Battle,	327, 425, 527
The Atmosphere and Its Currents.
By Thos. Milner, M.A.	343
The Minister’s Wife. By Ella Rodman,	374
The Autobiography of a Boarding-House.
By Cornelia Carolla,	390
The Mother’s Prophecy.
By Mrs. Julia C. B. Dorr,	35
The Topmost City of the Earth,	659
Useful Arts Among the Greeks and Romans.
By Charles Williams,	497
Ups and Downs. By Thos. R. Newbold,	628
Wellington. By William Dowe,	607
Widows. By Thompson Westcott,	118
Wreck and Ruin,	403

POETRY.

Adieu. By E. A. L.	186
Ambition. By Rufus Waples,	270
Age. By Wm. Alexander,	290
A French Idea. By Bon Gaultier,	112
A Poet’s Thought. By Wm. A. Sutliffe,	315
A Midnight Fantasy. By Wm. A. Sutliffe,	379
Ariadne. By Mrs. E. J. Eames,	398
Ambition’s Burial-Ground.
By Francis De Haes Janvier,	546
Annie. By D. W. Bartlett,	645
Better Days. By Lydia L. A. Very,	662
Cleopatra. By H. W. Herbert,	69
Cydnus. By Wm. Alexander,	205
Endymion. By T. Buchanan Read,	28
Excerpts. By Erastus W. Ellsworth,	243
Fanny Leigh. By Mrs. Toogood,	342
Fragment. By Wm. Albert Sutliffe,	377
Forgotten By C. E. T.	476
Fragment of a Poem. By Wm. A. Sutliffe,	594
Gather Ripe Fruit, O Death!	311
Hymn to the Sun. By Henry W. Herbert,	132
Hesperius. By Wm. Albert Sutliffe,	159
Hymn. By Rev. Dryden S. Phelps,	230
Hours in August. By Mrs. J. H. Thomas,	645
I Dream of All Things Beautiful.
By Miss M. E. Alilson,	88
I know where the Fairies are. By M. Delamaie,	429
Joy Murmurs in the Ocean. By C. H. Stewart,	308
Light of Nature. By Wm. Alexander,	34
Life’s Battle March. By Mrs. J. H. Thomas,	167
Lines. By Mrs. E. L. Cushing,	173
Lay of the Crusader. By W. H. C. Hosmer,	308
Le Petit Savoyard. By William Dowe,	405
My Forefathers. By J. Hunt, Jr.	68
Midsummer Days,	117
Memory’s Consolation. By W. W. Harney,	283
Meditations on the Last Judgment.
By Erastus W. Ellsworth,	424
Mutability. By Wm. Alexander,	545
Not Dead. By L. L. M.	15
November. By Mrs. Julia C. R. Dorr,	545
Oceola’s Address to His Warriors.
By Wm. H. C. Hosmer,	12
Oh, Would I Were a Child! By M. Delamaie,	244
Peace. By Wm. Alexander,	383
Pale Concluding Winter. By A. B. Street,	563
Recollections. By Miss Mattie Griffiths,	77
Remembered Ones. By J. Hunt, Jr.	463
Summer,	5
Sonnet. By Wm. H. C. Hosmer,	20
Snow Flakes. By Mrs. L. G. Abell,	48
Seminole War-Song. By W. H. C. Hosmer,	172
Stability. By J. Hunt, Jr.	172
Sonnet.—Virtue. By Wm. Alexander,	173
Song. By O. J. Victor,	270
Song. By Wm. H. C. Hosmer,	369
Sonnets. By E. Anna Lewis,	510
Sonnet.—Iron. By Wm. Alexander,	585
Sonnet.—Homer. By Wm. Alexander,	612
Sonnet. By Caroline F. Orne,	627
To Adhemar. By E. Anna Lewis,	24
To the Picture of My Child. By Meta Lander,	71
The Boy Afar Unto His Sister. By Lil. May,	78
The Exile. By Caroline F. Orne,	105
The Two Birds. By Geo. H. Boker,	139
To a Whip-Poor-Will Singing in a Grave-yard.
By E. Anna Lewis,	158
The Fountain of Youth. By A. G. H.	179
The Old Man’s Evening Thoughts. By F. G.	214
The Dead at ThermopylÆ. By H. W. Herbert,	252
The World Conqueror. By Mrs. E. J. Eames,	311
To Mary. By Matthias Ward,	315
To —— ——. By Mrs. J. C. R. Dorr,	326
To the Redbreast,	341
The Comet. By Wm. Alexander,	369
The Last Hour of Sappho. By E. A. Lewis,	433
The Cottage Door,	453
The Song-Stream. By Ellen More,	468
To My Cigar. By Charles Albert Janvier,	526
Virginia Dare. By Mrs. L. H. Sigourney,	442
Whatever He Doeth Shall Prosper.
By Mrs. Mary Arthur,	144
We Laid Her Down to Rest. By C. C. Butler,	283
Wild Roses by the River Grow. By Car. F. Orne,	468
Were I but with Thee. By C. F. Orne,	585
Yesterday—To-day—To-morrow! By C. D. Gardette, M.D.	211
Zulma. By Mrs. Julia C. R. Dorr,	389

REVIEWS.

Lilian, and Other Poems. By W. M. Praed,	106
The Howadji in Syria. By G. W. Curtis,	106
Papers from the Quarterly Review,	220
Ingoldsby Legends. By Rev. R. H. Barhaw,	221
The Blithedale Romance. By N. Hawthorne,	333
The History of the Restoration of Monarchy in
France. By Alphonse de Lamartine,	334
Up the Rhine. By Thomas Hood,	335
A Step from the New World to the Old and Back
Again. By Henry P. Tappan,	335
The Poetical Works of Fitz Greene Halleck,	443
Mysteries. By Charles Wyllys Elliott,	444
The Works of Shakspeare. By H. N. Hudson,	444
The Book of Snobs. By Wm. M. Thackeray,	445
The Upper Ten Thousand. By C. A. Bristed,	547
The Heirs of Randolph Abbey,	549
Anglo-American Literature and Manners.
By PhilarÈte Chasles,	552
Precaution. By J. Fenimore Cooper,	553
The Master Builder. By D. Kellog Lee,	553
Personal Memoirs and Recollections of Editorial Life.
By Joseph T. Buckingham,	554
Reuben Medlicott. By M. W. Savage,	663
The Eclipse of Faith,	663

MUSIC.

I’d Offer Thee This Heart.
Composed by Valentine Dister,	2
Departed Joys. From the Melodies
of Sir H. R. Bishop,	114
Our Way Across the Sea,	226
Derwentwater,	338
The Dreams of Youth. Words by C. Mackay.
Accompaniment by Sir H. R. Bishop,	450

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STORM ON THE SEABOARD.

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I’D OFFER THEE THIS HEART.

I’D OFFER THEE THIS HEART.

COMPOSED BY VALENTINE DISTER.

Presented by LEE & WALKER, 188 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia.

I’d offer thee this heart of mine,

If I could love thee less,

But hearts as warm and pure as thine,

Should never know dis-

tress.

My fortune is too hard for thee,

’Twould chill thy dearest joy .......

I’d rather weep to see thee free,

Than win thee to destroy ..............

Than win thee to destroy.

 

I leave thee to thy happiness,

  As one too near to love—

As one I’ll think of but to bless,

  While wretchedly I rove;

And oh! when sorrow’s cup I drink,

  All bitter though it be;

How sweet to me ’twill be to think

  It holds no drop for thee.

 

Then fare thee well! an exile now,

  Without a friend or home;

With anguish written on my brow

  About the world I roam;

For all my dreams of bliss are o’er—

  Fate bade them all depart—

And I must leave my native shore

  In brokenness of heart.

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THE VINTAGE. (See page 29.)

GRAHAM’S MAGAZINE.

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Vol. XLI.     PHILADELPHIA, JULY, 1852.     No. 1.

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SUMMER.

Summer is here, and her whole world of wealth is spread out before us in prodigal array. “The woods and groves have darkened and thickened into one impervious mass of sober, uniform green; and having, for a while, ceased to exercise the more active functions of the Spring, are resting from their labors in that state of ‘wise passiveness’ which we, in virtue of our infinitely greater wisdom, know so little how to enjoy. In Winter the trees may be supposed to sleep in a state of insensible inactivity, and in Spring to be laboring with the flood of new life that is pressing through their veins, and forcing them to perform the offices attached to their existence. But in Summer, having reached the middle term of their annual life, they pause in their appointed course, and then, if ever, taste the nourishment they take in, and ‘enjoy the air they breathe.’ And he who, sitting in Summer time beneath the shade of a spreading tree, can see its branches fan the soft breeze as it passes, and hear its polished leaves whisper and twitter to each other like birds at love-making, and yet can feel any thing like an assurance that it does not enjoy its existence, knows little of the tenure by which he holds his own.”

The animal creation seem oppressed with languor during this hot season, and either seek the recesses of woods, or resort to pools and streams, to cool their bodies and quench their thirst.

                On the grassy bank

Some ruminating lie; while others stand

Half in the flood, and, often bending, sip

The circling surface. In the middle droops

The strong, laborious ox, of honest front,

Which incomposed he shakes; and from his sides

The troublous insects lashes with his tail,

Returning still. Amid his subjects safe

Slumbers the monarch swain; his careless arm

Thrown round his head on downy moss sustained,

Here laid his scrip, with wholesome viands filled,

There, listening every noise, his watchful dog.

Thomson.

Notwithstanding the heat has parched the songsters of the grove into silence, there is still an audible music in nature—

                           The gnats

Their murmuring small trumpets sounden wide.

Spenser.

And John Keats points to another source of melody—

The poetry of earth is never dead;

When all the birds are faint with the hot sun,

And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run

From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead;

That is the grasshopper’s.

The insect tribe, however, are peculiarly active and vigorous in the hottest weather. These minute creatures are, for the most part, annual, being hatched in the Spring, and dying at the approach of Winter: they have therefore no time to lose in indolence, but must make the most of their short existence; especially as their most perfect state continues only during a part of their lives. How appropriately may Anacreon’s celebrated address to the Cicada be applied to many of the happy creatures which sport in the sunshine—

Now is to be enjoyed in all its luxury the delightful amusement of bathing; and happy is the swimmer, who alone is able to enjoy the full pleasure of this healthful exercise. The power of habit to improve the natural faculties is in nothing more apparent than in the art of swimming. Man, without practice, is utterly unable to support himself in the water. Thomson finely describes this delightful recreation—

Here we find the new improved job printing machine, which is known as the little jobber. This press combines the advantages of speed and durability with convenience, simplicity and cheapness. It is capable of throwing off 2500 impressions per hour with ease, or more, if the feed-boy can supply the sheets, and may even be driven by the foot with a treadle, and works so still, that a person standing a few feet from it, cannot hear it. The manner of running the bed is entirely original and is done by means of a crank and lever, which gives it a slow and uniform motion while the impression is being taken, but a quick retrograde movement, thus combining a slow impression with speed. Another new feature of the press is, that the sheet-flyer is so arranged, that no tapes pass around the impression cylinder, so that whatever sized form is worked, there are neither tapes nor fingers to shift, thus obviating the only objection to that apparatus for a jobbing press. It has an iron feed and fly-board, and all our recent improvements, such as an adjustable knife to the fountain, bearers for the bed, patent feed-guides, etc. etc. The bed is 16×13 inches inside of bearers, and 18×13 inches without bearers. The press occupies 5 feet by 3 feet. Price $600.

We have also the Washington and Smith hand-presses, which are generally used for country newspaper printing, and which have obtained so much celebrity, and are in such exclusive and constant use in almost every printing office in the United States and other countries, during the last twenty years, as to render any remarks upon their superiority unnecessary. They are elegant in appearance, simple, quick and powerful in operation, and combine every facility for the production of superior printing. Each press is tried in the manufactory and warranted for one year.

Here again we have the type-revolving book press, in which, as in the great fast printing type-revolving machine, the forms of type are fastened on a portion of the circumference of a large, horizontal cylinder, the remainder of which, slightly depressed below the types, is used as a distributor to supply the ink which it brings up from the fountain to the inking rollers which revolve against the types, against which again revolve the other cylinders, more or less in number, in an opposite direction to the rotatory action of the type-revolving cylinder, to which the sheets are fed, and from which they are taken up and thrown off in regular piles by self-acting flyers.

Inking machines, card-printing presses, hand-lever printing presses, proof presses, copperplate and lithographic presses, are all turned out from this department in that perfection which has obtained for the Messrs. Hoe a celebrity really world-wide, and caused their names to be known and their improvements adopted in almost every country of the world, and that, too, through no blind accident of fortune, but by dint of real superiority and merit. In proof of this, it will be necessary only to state that hand-presses of this establishment are at this moment in successful operation in Canada, the British Provinces, Cuba, Calcutta, Mexico, Bengal, nay, even in unimproving, stationary China, where they were introduced during the visit to that strange country of Mr. Cutting, as United States Commissioner.

Attached to the hand-press room is a small chamber appropriated to the safe-keeping, sharpening and ordering all the drills and edge tools of the department, under the care of one person, who is answerable for the safeguard and efficiency of the whole.

From thence we proceed to the shops on two stories, which have been thrown together, for the perfecting of the vast and wonderful fast-printing machine, by the removal of the ceiling, in order to make room for the great and complicated mass of moving cylinders, and to give space for the operations of the numerous artisans employed upon it.

The machine now in building, is one of six cylinders, for the use of the New York Herald, which now drives one of four cylinders, and is the same in almost every respect as that of the Tribune, being made with wide cylinders for the printing of double sheets; while that of the Sun, with eight cylinders, is suitable only for the smaller folios of that journal. With regard to this machine, as we shall notice it more fully when we come to speak of it as in operation, we shall say no more in this place except that it is the head and front of all the wonderful inventions and improvements which now enable journals to be furnished to the world at prices merely nominal, their vast and unheard of circulation compensating their moderate prices, and producing in the gross, a highly remunerative profit.

The six cylinder press is calculated to throw off twenty-five hundred copies to each cylinder, fed by one man, or an aggregate of fifteen thousand in the single hour. The four cylinder press now in operation in the light and beautiful vault of the Herald, has done even more than at this ratio, having, when pressed, actually thrown off twelve thousand copies in one hour. These presses were first introduced by the Messrs. Hoe only some five or six years ago; and their utmost calculation, as to the probable number which they should ever be called upon to manufacture, was five and twenty, but so marvelously has the demand exceeded their wildest imaginations that they have already built sixteen, one of which is, as we observed heretofore, in operation for La Patrie, the French government organ; and three more are ordered, and in progress of formation.

About four months is required for the erection of one of these splendid machines, or if extraordinary exertions be used, even a shorter time.

It is a pregnant fact, and one singularly corroborative of the soundness of the writer’s view, as expressed in the early portion of this article relative to the effect of machinery in increasing rather than diminishing the number of hands employed, or likely to be employed, in the business of printing, in consequence of the daily augmenting demand for printed matter arising from its cheapness and perfection—that, since the introduction of the fast-printing machines the call for hand presses has greatly increased. During the past year, the sale of this article alone, by the Messrs. Hoe, rose to so many as five a week during the whole twelve months; in all amounting to two hundred and sixty, besides all the other instruments and appliances of the printers’ and bookbinders’ professions.

After this, completing the press making department, we come to the cylinder press rooms, occupying one entire flat of the building, in which we find the patent improved double cylinder, the single small cylinder, and the single large cylinder printing machines, in every state of progress from their very inception to absolute perfection.

These machines are so excellently and clearly described in the Messrs. Hoe’s illustrated catalogue, beautifully got up for the use of their customers, that we cannot do better than extract their words as more plain and comprehensible than any we could readily substitute for them, we therefore give them as below, without doubt or hesitation:

“The Double Cylinder Printing Machine. In its arrangement this press is similar to the Single Small Cylinder Machine; except that it has two impression cylinders each alternately giving an impression from the same form. The sheets are supplied by two attendants, and, if required to print short editions of various sizes, it will be necessary to have a boy at each end of the press to receive the printed sheets, but where large editions or forms of uniform size are worked, not requiring frequent changes of the tape-wheels, the self-sheet-flying apparatus is very efficient and economical, placing the printed sheets in heaps with precision, and dispensing entirely with the two boys otherwise required for that purpose.

“The large amount of printing ordinarily done on these presses, and the consequent speed required, have rendered necessary greatly increased strength and weight of material in all the parts, together with simplicity in the mechanical arrangements, and the utmost perfection of workmanship. The noise and annoyance occasioned by the concussion of the bed against the springs, which are placed at each end of the machine to overcome the momentum of the bed, has been removed by means of adjustable India rubber buffers placed at the points of contact, which in no way interfere with the lively and certain action of the spiral springs.

“Each Machine is furnished with Roller Moulds, two sets of Roller Stocks, Blankets and Band; also, Fly Wheel and Stand, if to be driven by hand power; or Counter Shaft, two hangers and Pulley, if by steam power.

“The Patent Single Small Cylinder Printing Machine. In this press the form of types is placed upon a flat bed, and the impression taken upon the paper by means of a cylinder, while the form is passing under it. The small size of the cylinder allows the machine to be constructed in a very compact manner, so as to shorten the distance which the bed travels, thereby considerably increasing the number of impressions in a given time, beyond the single large cylinder press.

“The machine is of convenient height for use. One person only is required to feed down the paper, whose position is but a step from the floor. It will give from 2,000 to 3,000 impressions per hour, with perfect safety to the machinery. The printed sheets are thrown out by a fly frame in a uniform pile. Register sufficiently accurate for newspaper and job work is obtained by the patent feed guides, which are attached to each press. When required, a registering or pointing apparatus is furnished, and the press may then be used advantageously for book work.

“This press is made in the same substantial manner as the double cylinder press described above, with buffers similarly arranged to prevent noise.

“When driven by steam power, No. 8 occupies 8 feet by 12 feet. If by man power, requiring fly wheel and stand, it occupies 8 feet by 16 feet.

“Each Machine is furnished with Roller Moulds, two sets of Roller Stocks, Blankets and Band; also, Fly Wheel and Stand, if to be driven by hand power; or Counter Shaft, two Hangers and Pulley if by steam power.

“The patent single large cylinder printing machine. This machine is particularly adapted to book and fine newspaper work. It has a perfect registering apparatus and sheet-flyer; also adjustable iron bearers, so that stereotype may be worked with the same facility and beauty as type forms. One boy is required to lay on the sheets, and the press may be driven by man or steam-power. With the same attendance, it will print twice as fast as any bed and platen machine, and equally as well in every respect; say from 1,000 to 2,000 impressions in an hour, according to the size of the press, and the quality of the work desired. Vulcanized India rubber impression-cloth for these presses is now furnished; and as it is not readily indented by the type, forms of different sizes may be worked without any change of blankets. Overlays are conveniently made on the rubber, and may be removed by a wet sponge. To prevent noise, buffers are applied as in the double cylinder machine.”

An artist’s drawing-room completes this department. And, in a separate building—to which no form of fire is ever admitted, unless it be in the chance visit of the watchman’s lantern to the premises, which, like all the other parts of the establishment, are equally and agreeably tempered by warm air, and which, unlike all the other rooms, are bright, clean, lively-looking apartments, and exhale a delicious fragrance of fresh-cut wood and cedar-shavings, are the carpenter’s-shops, in which every species of wooden work requisite to the printers’, binders’, and booksellers’ trades is prepared, among which are included neatly finished pairs of type-cases, turned out at the rate of fifty pair every week, printer’s desks, and all the other requisites of the printing office.

Here is also the pattern-room, where, by dint of self-acting drills, saws, planes, and the like, wooden patterns are manufactured from the neat and accurate designs of the drafting-rooms, of every portion of the machinery used, in accordance to and close imitation of which the castings, forgings, and finishing of all the work is accomplished to perfection.

With this department, the survey of the Broome street manufactories and saw-works is terminated. The Gold street establishment is principally applied to the storing and exhibition of all the various articles coming under the head of letter-press, compositors’, warehouse, welting, and bookbinders’-tools departments—and here is kept ready, at a moment’s notice, a large assortment of hand-presses, copying-presses, ruling, cutting, and piercing machines, in great variety and equal excellence, of all prices. In this building, moreover, are manufactured the beautiful and excellent vertical steam-engines from five horse-power, 6 inch cylinders, and 10 inch stroke, up to fifteen horse-power, 11 inch cylinders, and 22 inch stroke, the largest of which are in use in the Herald, Tribune, and Sun offices, for putting in motion the large fast printing machines, by which those largely circulated journals are thrown off daily in huge editions with unparalleled rapidity. Here also are built the portable steam-engines from 3 to 4 horse-power, with vertical tubular boilers; and the hydrostatic presses, for the finishing of printed sheets, which have come into so general and wide a field of operation within the last few years.

The following is a correct and beautifully finished representation of the great fast printing eight-cylinder machine in the vault of the Sun office in full operation; without which the end and object of this paper would be incomplete.

This immense printing machine is 33 feet long, 14 feet 8 inches high, and 6 feet wide. It has one large central cylinder, on which the type is secured, and eight smaller cylinders arranged around it, at convenient distances. Eight persons supply the eight small cylinders with the sheets, and at each revolution of the large cylinder eight impressions are given off, the sheets being delivered in neat order by the machine itself. The limit to the speed is in the ability of the eight persons to supply the sheets. At the rate of 2,500 sheets to each, the press would give off the unparalleled number of 20,000 printed impressions per hour. The press is used exclusively for newspapers, or similar printing.

“The large cylinder being put in motion, the form of types thereon, is—in succession—carried to four or more corresponding, horizontal, impression cylinders, arranged at proper distances around it, to give the impression to four or more sheets, introduced one by each impression cylinder. The fly and feed-boards of two of the impression cylinders are similar to those on the well-known double cylinder press; on the other two, the sheet is fed in below and thrown out above. The sheets are taken directly from the feed-board, by iron fingers attached to each impression cylinder. Between each two of the impression cylinders there are two inking rollers, which vibrate on the distributing surface while taking a supply of ink, and—at the proper time—are caused to rise by a cam, so as to pass over the form, when they again fall to the distributing surface. Each page is locked up upon a detached segment of the large cylinder, called by the compositors a “turtle,” and this constitutes the bed and chase. The column rules run parallel with the shafts of the cylinder, and are consequently straight, while the head, advertising, and dash rules, are in the form of segments of a circle. A cross section of the column rules would present the form of a wedge, with the small end pointing to the centre of the cylinder, so as to bind the types near the top; for the types being parallel, instead of radiating from the centre, it is obvious that if the column rules were also parallel, they must stand apart at the top, no matter how tight they were pressed together at the base; but with these wedge-shaped column rules, which are held down to the bed or “turtle,” by tongues, projecting at intervals along their length, and sliding in rebated grooves cut cross-wise in the face of the bed, the space in the grooves between the column rules, being filled with sliding blocks of metal, accurately fitted, the outer surface level with the surface of the bed, the ends next the column rules being cut away underneath to receive a projection on the sides of the tongues, and screws at the end and side of each page to lock them together, the types are as secure on this cylinder as they can be on the old flat bed.

“The cut represents a press with eight impression cylinders, capable of printing from 16,000 to 20,000 impressions per hour. Eight persons are required to feed in the sheets, which are thrown out and laid in heaps by self-acting flyers, as in our ordinary cylinder presses.”

Two of these presses, of completest power and finish, have, we understand, been ordered for the printing of the Public Ledger of Philadelphia, a penny paper of the widest circulation, and of as efficient usefulness as any journal in the United States.

For the past three years the Messrs. Hoe & Co. have maintained, at their own expense, an evening school for the instruction of their apprentices and employees, in Mathematics, the Exact Sciences, Mechanical Drawing, the French and English Languages, etc. Every one of their many apprentices is required to give a punctual attendance at the school, which is also open to such adult members of the establishment as choose to attend. Two teachers, Messrs. O’Gorman and Dick, are regularly employed, and Prof. Hyatt has just closed the winter term with a course of lectures on Experimental Philosophy. They were attended by nearly all the workmen as well as the apprentices. We mention these facts because we consider them worthy of being imitated by other large employers of laboring men.

We have scarcely words in which to convey our respect and admiration for the genius, skill, enterprise, energy and perseverance by which those intelligent and able young men have attained to their present high and enviable position; and by which they have placed the American press—so far as the perfection of time-gaining, and labor-saving machinery, and the attainment of facility, precision, certainty and punctuality are concerned, far ahead of that of any other country in the world.

We regret that the conductors of some of the leading journals do not exert as beneficial a course in the employment of the highest grades of intellectual capacity in the preparation of their leaders, and as earnest a resolution to perfect the tone of their presses, by the suppression of all scandals, libels, falsehoods, and sophistries; by the dissemination of truths, whole truths, and nothing but truths; in the discouragement of all license and licentiousness; in the promotion and propagation of all humane charities, justice, benevolence, morality, and virtue, of art and science, literature and learning, as the Messrs. Hoe have displayed in the perfectionating the material portion of the department.

Then we should have a public press equal to the requirements, moral, intellectual and physical, and worthy of the name of a people, which is ever proud to array itself in the first rank of the human race, as regards general education, intellectual capacity, and the diffusion of knowledge among all classes; and which, beyond a doubt, does actually number more readers, in proportion to the amount of its population, than any other country in the universe.

To conclude: it has been said, that the greatest benefactor of the human race is he who causes two blades of grass to grow where but one grew before: but to our eyes, he seems a greater benefactor—inasmuch as the intellectual are loftier and nobler than the physical wants of man—who causes ten—we might better say ten thousand, good and wise books—ten thousand copies of the Holy Gospel to be circulated among the people, where but one was circulated before.

And, of a truth, we know none to whom the above high praise is more justly applicable than to the inventors and owners of the Fast Printing Power-Press. Fortune and Fame attend them.

OSCEOLA’S ADDRESS TO HIS WARRIORS.

The Summer Duck is the most gayly attired of the whole family; it has, moreover, a form of very unusual elegance, as compared with other ducks; and a facility of flight, and command of itself on the wing, most unlike to the ponderous, angular flapping of the rest of its tribe, wheeling with a rapidity and power of pinion, approaching in some degree to that of the swallow, in and out among the branches of the gnarled and tortuous pin-oaks, whose shelter it especially affects.

From two very fine specimens, male and female, now before me, I take the following description.

Drake, in full summer plumage. Length from tip of bill to tip of tail, 21 inches. Length of wing, 9 inches. Bill, 1-1/5 inch. Tarsus, 1½. Middle toe, 2 inches. Body long, delicately shaped, rounded. Head small, finely crested; neck rather long and slender. Eye large, with golden-yellow irides. Legs and feet orange-yellow, webs dusky, claws black. Plumage soft, compressed, blended. Bill orange-red at the base, yellow on the sides, with a black spot above the nostrils, extending nearly to the tip; nail recurved, black.

The colors are most vivid. The crown of the head, cheeks, side of the upper neck and crest changeable, varying in different lights, from bottle-green, through all hues of dark blue, bright azure, purple, with ruby and amethyst reflections, to jet black. From the upper corner of the upper mandible a narrow snow-white streak above the eye runs back, expanding somewhat, into the upper crest. A broader streak of the same extends backward below the eye, and forms several bright streaks in the lower part of the crest. Chin and fore throat snow-white, with a sort of double gorget, the upper extending upward a little posterior to the eye, and nearly reaching it, the lower almost encircling the neck at its narrowest part. The lower neck and upper breast are of the richest vinous red, interspersed in front with small arrow-headed spots of pure white. Lower breast white, spotted with paler vinous red; belly pure white. Scapulars, and lower hind neck, reddish brown, with green reflections. Back, tail-coverts and tail black, splendidly glossed with metallic lustre of rich blue-green and purple. Wing-coverts and primaries brown, glossed with blue and green, outer webs of the primaries silvery white; secondaries glossy blue-black. A broad crescent-shaped band of pure white in front of the wings, at the edge of the red breast-feathers, and behind this a broader margin of jet black. The sides of the body rich greenish yellow, most delicately penciled with narrow close waved lines of gray. On the flanks six distinct semi-lunated bands of white, anteriorly bordered with broad black origins, and tipped with black. The vent tawny white, the rump and under tail-coverts dark reddish purple.

The duck is smaller and duller in her general coloring, but still bears sufficient resemblance to the splendid drake to cause her at once to be recognized, by any moderately observant eye, as his mate.

Her bill is blackish brown, the irides of her eyes hazel brown, her feet dull dusky green. Crown of her head and hind neck dusky, faintly glossed with green, and with the rudiments of a crest; cheeks dusky brown. A white circle round the eye and longitudinal spot behind it. Chin and throat dingy white. Shoulders, back, scapulars, wing-coverts, rump and tail brown, more or less glossed with green, purple and dark crimson. Primaries black, with reflections of deep cerulean blue and violet; outer webs silvery white. Secondaries violet-blue and deep green, with black edges and a broad white margin, forming the speculum or beauty spot. Upper fore neck, breast, sides and flanks deep chestnut-brown, spotted in irregular lines with oval marks of faint tawny yellow; belly, vent and under tail-coverts white, flanks and thighs dull brown.

The young males of the first season are scarcely distinguishable from the ducks.

The Summer Duck breeds, in New York and New Jersey, according to the season, from early in April until late in May; in July the young birds are not much inferior in size to the parents, though not yet very strong on the wing. I well remember on one occasion, during the second week of that month, in the year 1836, while out woodcock shooting near Warwick, in Orange county, New York, with a steady brace of setters, how some mowers who were at work on the banks of the beautiful Wawayanda, hailed me, and, pointing to a patch of perhaps two acres of coarse, rushy grass, told me that six ducks had just gone down there. I called my dogs to heel, and walked very gingerly through the meadow, with my finger on the trigger, expecting the birds to rise very wild; but to my great surprise reached the end of the grass, on the rivulet’s margin, without moving any thing.

The men still persisted that the birds were there; and so they were, sure enough; for on bidding my setters hold up I soon got six dead points in the grass, and not without some trouble kicked up the birds, so hard did they lay. It was a calm, bright summer’s day, not a duck rose above ten feet from me, and I bagged them all. They proved to be the old duck and five young birds of that season, but in size the latter were quite equal to the mother bird.

I consider the Summer Duck at all times rather a less shy bird than its congeners, though it may be that this is owing to the woody covert which, unlike others of its tribe, it delights to frequent; and which perhaps acts in some degree as a screen to its pursuer; but except on one other occasion I never saw any thing like the tameness of that brood.

The other instance occurred nearly in the same place, and in the same month, I think, of the ensuing year. I was again out summer cock shooting, and was crossing a small, sluggish brook, of some twelve or fourteen feet over, with my gun under my arm, on a pile of old rails, which had been thrown into the channel by the haymakers, to make an extemporaneous bridge for the hay teams; when on a sudden, to my very great wonderment, and I must admit to my very considerable flusteration likewise, almost to the point of tumbling me into the mud, out got a couple of Wood Ducks from the rails, literally under my feet, with a prodigious bustle of wings and quacking. If I had not so nearly tumbled into the stream, ten to one I should have shot too quickly and missed them both; but the little effort to recover my footing gave me time to get cool again, and I bagged them both. One was again the old duck, the other a young drake of that season.

In the spring, the old duck selects her place in some snug, unsuspicious looking hole in some old tree near the water edge, where, if unmolested, she will breed many years in succession, carrying down her young when ready to fly, in her bill, and placing them in the water. The drake is very attentive to the female while she is laying, and yet more so while she is engaged in the duties of incubation; constantly wheeling about on the wing among the branches, near the nest on which she is sitting, and greeting her with a little undertoned murmur of affection, or perching on a bough of the same tree, as if to keep watch over her.

The following account of their habits is so true, and the anecdote illustrating them so pretty and pleasing, that I cannot refrain from quoting it, for the benefit of those of my readers who may not be so fortunate as to have cultivated a familiar friendship with the pages of that eloquent pioneer of the natural history of the woods and wilds and waters of America, the Scottish Wilson, who has done more for that science than any dead or living man, with the sole exception of his immortal successor, the great and good Audubon; and whose works will stand side by side with his, so long as truthfulness of details, correctness of classification, eloquence of style, and a pure taste and love for rural sounds and sights shall command a willing audience. Speaking of this bird he says—

“It is familiarly known in every quarter of the United States, from Florida to Lake Ontario, in the neighborhood of which latter place I have myself met with it in October. It rarely visits the seashore, or salt marshes, its favorite haunts being the solitary, deep, and muddy creeks, ponds and mill-dams of the interior, making its nest frequently in old hollow trees that overhang the water.

“The Summer Duck is equally well known in Mexico and many of the West India islands. During the whole of our winters they are occasionally seen in the states south of the Potomac. On the 10th of January I met with two on a creek near Petersburgh, in Virginia. In the more northern districts, however, they are migratory. In Pennsylvania the female usually begins to lay late in April, or early in May. Instances have been known where the nest was constructed of a few sticks laid in a fork of the branches; usually, however, the inside of a hollow tree is selected for this purpose. On the 18th of May I visited a tree containing the nest of a Summer Duck, on the banks of the Tuckahoe River, New Jersey. It was an old, grotesque white-oak, whose top had been torn off by a storm. It stood on the declivity of the bank, about twenty yards from the water. In this hollow and broken top, and about six feet down, on the soft, decayed wood, lay thirteen eggs, snugly covered with down, doubtless taken from the breast of the bird. These eggs were of an exact oval shape, less than those of a hen, the surface exceedingly fine grained, and of the highest polish, and slightly yellowish, greatly resembling old, polished ivory. The egg measured two inches and an eighth by one inch and a half. On breaking one of them, the young bird was found to be nearly hatched, but dead, as neither of the parents had been observed about the tree during the three or four days preceding, and were conjectured to have been shot.

“This tree had been occupied, probably by the same pair, for four successive years, in breeding time; the person who gave me the information, and whose house was within twenty or thirty yards of the tree, said that he had seen the female, the spring preceding, carry down thirteen young, one by one, in less than ten minutes. She caught them in her bill by the wing or back of the neck, and landed them safely at the foot of the tree, whence she afterward led them to the water. Under this same tree, at the time I visited it, a large sloop lay on the stocks, nearly finished; the deck was not more than twelve feet distant from the nest, yet notwithstanding the presence and noise of the workmen, the ducks would not abandon their old breeding place, but continued to pass out and in, as if no person had been near. The male usually perched on an adjoining limb, and kept watch while the female was laying, and also often while she was sitting. A tame goose had chosen a hollow space at the root of the same tree, to lay and hatch her young in.

“The Summer Duck seldom flies in flocks of more than three or four individuals together, and most commonly in pairs, or singly. The common note of the drake is peet, peet; but when, standing sentinel, he sees danger, he makes a noise not unlike the crowing of a young cock, oe eek! oe eek! Their food consists principally of acorns, seeds of the wild-oats, and insects.”

Mr. Wilson states, as his opinion, that the flesh of this lovely little duck is inferior in excellence to that of the blue-winged teal. But therein I can by no means coincide with him, as I consider it, in the Atlantic states, inferior to no duck except the canvas-back, which is admitted facile princeps of all the duck tribe. The Summer Duck is in these districts probably the most graminivorous and granivorous of the family, not affecting fish, tadpoles, frogs or field-mice, all of which are swallowed with great alacrity and rejoicing by the mallards, pin-tails, and other haunters of fresh water streams and lakes.

On the great lakes of the west and north, where all the duck tribe feed to fattening on the wild-rice and wild-celery, zizania aquatica and balisneria Americana, no one species is better than another, all being admirable; but in the course of an autumn spent on the northern shores of Lake Huron and the rivers debouching into it, and thence north-westward to Lake Superior, I do not remember seeing any specimens of this beautiful bird, though I feel sure that it cannot but exist in those waters, which are in all respects so congenial to its habits.

Another peculiarity of this species, which I have repeatedly noticed, when it has not been disturbed by any sudden noise or the pursuit of dogs, is thus neatly touched upon by Mr. J. P. Giraud, Jr., the enthusiastic and accomplished ornithologist of Long Island, whose unpretending little volume should be the text book of every sportsman in the land who has a taste for any thing beyond mere wanton slaughter.

“Often when following those beautiful and rapid streams that greatly embellish our country, in pursuit of the angler’s beau ideal of sport, have I met with this gayly-attired duck. As if proud of its unrivaled beauty, it would slowly rise and perform a circuit in the air, seemingly to give the admiring beholder an opportunity of witnessing the gem of its tribe.”

The Summer Duck is very easily domesticated, if the eggs be taken from the nest and hatched under a hen, and the young birds become perfectly tame, coming up to the house or the barn-yard to be fed, with even more regularity than the common domestic duck; nay, even the old birds, if taken by the net and wing-tipped, will soon become gentle and lose their natural shyness.

In the summer of 1843 I had the pleasure of seeing a large flock of these lovely wild fowl perfectly gentle, answering the call of their owner by their peculiar murmur of pleasure, and coming, as fast as they could swim or run, to be fed by his hand.

This was at the beautiful place of the Hon. Mahlon Dickinson, formerly a member of General Jackson’s cabinet, not far from Morristown, in New Jersey, which is singularly adapted for the rearing and domesticating these ferÆ naturÂ; since it has, immediately adjoining the trim and regular gardens, a long and large tract of beautiful wild shrubbery, full of rare evergreens, and interspersed with bright, cool springs and streamlets feeding many ponds and reservoirs, where they can feed and sport and breed, as undisturbed as in the actual wilderness; while, the adjacent country being all tame and highly cultivated, they have no inducement to stray from their abode.

Beside Summer Ducks, Mr. Dickinson had, at the period of my visit, Dusky Ducks, better known as Black Ducks, Green-winged Teal, Golden-eyes, and I think Widgeon; but the Summer Ducks were by far the tamest, as the Dusky Ducks were the wildest of the company. I should long ago have attempted to naturalize them on my own place, but that a large river, the Passaic, washing the lower end of my lawn and garden, from which it would not be possible to exclude them, I have felt that it is useless to attempt it, the rather that there is a large patch of wild-rice immediately adjoining me, which would tempt them to the water, whence they would drift away with the current or the tide, and be lost or shot in no time.

The best time for shooting and for eating these fowl is late in October, when the acorns and beechmast, of both of which they are inordinately fond, lie thick and ripe on the woodland banks of the streams and pools they love to frequent. And this reminds me of a little sketch, illustrative of their habits, taken down almost verbatim, from the lips of a right good fellow, and at that time a right good sportsman also; though now, alas! the untimely loss of the inestimable blessing of eyesight has robbed him, among other sources of enjoyment, of that favorite and innocent pastime—the forest chase:

“Are there many Wood Ducks about this season, Tom?” asked Forester, affecting to be perfectly careless and indifferent to all that had passed. “Did you kill these yourself?”

“There was a sight on them a piece back, but they’re gittin’ scase—pretty scase now, I tell you. Yes, I shot these down by Aunt Sally’s big spring-hole a Friday. I’d been a lookin’ round, you see, to find where the quail kept afore you came up here—for I’d a been expectin’ you a week and better—and I’d got in quite late, toward sundown, with an outsidin’ bevy, down by the cedar swamp, and druv them off into the big bog meadows, below Sugarloaf, and I’d killed quite a bunch on them—sixteen, I reckon, Archer; and there wasn’t but eighteen when I lit on ’em—and it was gittin’ pretty well dark when I came to the big spring, and little Dash was worn dead out, and I was tired, and hot, and thunderin’ thirsty, so I sets down aside the outlet where the spring water comes in good and cool, and I was mixin’ up a nice, long drink in the big glass we hid last summer down in the mud-hole, with some great cider sperrits—when what should I hear all at once but whistle, whistlin’ over head, the wings of a whole drove on ’em, so up I buckled the old gun; but they’d plumped down into the crick fifteen rod off or better, down by the big pin oak, and there they sot, seven ducks and two big purple-headed drakes—beauties, I tell you. Well, boys, I upped gun and tuck sight stret away, but just as I was drawin’, I kind o’ thought I’d got two little charges of number eight, and that to shoot at ducks at fifteen rod wasn’t nauthen. Well, then, I fell a thinkin’, and then I sairched my pockets, and arter a piece found two green cartridges of number three, as Archer gave me in the spring, so I drawed out the small shot, and inned with these, and put fresh caps on to be sarten. But jest when I’d got ready, the ducks had floated down with the stream, and dropped behind the pint—so I downed on my knees, and crawled, and Dash alongside on me, for all the world as if the darned dog knowed; well, I crawled quite a piece, till I’d got under a bit of alder bush, and then I seen them—all in a lump like, except two—six ducks and a big drake—feedin’, and stickin’ down their heads into the weeds, and flutterin’ up their hinder eends, and chatterin’ and jokin’—I could have covered them all with a handkercher, exceptin’ two, as I said afore, one duck and the little drake, and they was off a rod or better from the rest, at the two different sides of the stream—the big bunch warn’t over ten rods off me, nor so far; so I tuck sight right at the big drake’s neck. The water was quite clear and still, and seemed to have caught all the little light as was left by the sun, for the skies had got pretty dark, I tell you; and I could see his head quite clear agin the water—well, I draw’d trigger, and the hull charge ripped into ’em—and there was a scrabblin’ and a squatterin’ in the water now, I tell you—but not one on ’em riz—not the fust one of the hull bunch; but up jumped both the others, and I drawed on the drake—more by the whistlin’ of his wings, than that I seen him—but I drawed stret, Archer, any ways; and arter I’d pulled half a moment I hard him plump down into the crick with a splash, and the water sparkled up like a fountain where he fell. So then I didn’t wait to load, but ran along the bank as hard as I could strick it, and when I’d got down to the spot, I tell you, little Dash had got two on ’em out afore I came, and was in with a third. Well, sich a cuttin’ and a splashin’ as there was you niver did see, none on you—I guess, for sartin—leastwise I niver did. I’d killed, you see, the drake and two ducks, dead at the first fire, but three was only wounded, wing-tipped, and leg-broken, and I can’t tell you what all. It was all of nine o’clock at night, and dark as all out doors, afore I gathered them three ducks, but I did gather ’em; Lord, boys, why I’d stayed till mornin’, but I’d a got them, sarten. Well, the drake I killed flyin’ I couldn’t find him that night, no how, for the stream swept him down, and I hadn’t got no guide to go by, so I let him go then, but I was up next mornin’ bright and airly, and started up the stream clean from the bridge here, up through Garry’s back-side, and my bog-hole, and so on along the meadows to Aunt Sally’s run—and looked in every willow bush that dammed the waters back, like, and every bunch of weeds and brier-brake, all the way, and sure enough I found him, he’d been killed dead, and floated down the crick, and then the stream had washed him up into a heap of broken sticks and briers, and when the waters fell, for there had been a little freshet, they left him there breast uppermost—and I was glad to find him—for I think, Archer, as that shot was the nicest, prettiest, etarnal, darndest, long, good shot, I iver did make, anyhow; and it was so dark I couldn’t see him.”

Many of his friends and mine will recognize the character, to whom I allude, as he figures largely in the pages of “The Warwick Woodlands,” from which the above extract is taken, of “My Shooting-box,” and the other sporting scenes of Frank Forester, wherein nothing good or generous or kind is related of Tom Draw, that does not fall far short of the reality.

Before closing this article, I will correct an error into which I perceive I have inadvertently fallen in the first page of it, wherein I said that this duck, alone of the family, has the habit of perching, roosting, and nesting on trees.

I should have said alone of the American family; for I find a note by Mr. Brewer, the last editor of Wilson, annexed to his article on our bird, which I prefer to subjoin instead of merely making a verbal alteration, since I doubt not many others are in the same error, who will be glad to be corrected in detail. It appears, as will be seen below, that, although there are no European tree-ducks, nor any other American, there is a family of Asiatic and African congeners of our Summer Duck, for which an especial name has been proposed, though not as yet generally adopted. I might add that the present Latin name of our bird, anas sponsa, signifies, being interpreted, the bride duck, from the rare elegance of its form and beauty of its plumage—a pretty name for a pretty creature.

“These lovely ducks may be said to represent an incessorial form among the anatidÆ; they build and perch on trees, and spend as much time on land as upon the waters; Dr. Richardson has given this group, containing few members, the title of dendronessa from their arboreal habits. Our present species is the only one belonging to America, where it ranges rather to the south than north; the others, I believe, are all confined to India. They are remarkable for the beauty and splendor of their plumage, its glossy, silky texture, and for the singular form of the scapulars, which, instead of an extreme development in length, receive it in the contrary proportion of breadth; and instead of lying flat, in some stand perpendicular to the back. They are all adorned with an ample crest, pendulous, and running down the back of the neck. They are easily domesticated, but I do not know that they have been yet of much utility in this state, being more kept on account of their beauty, and few have been introduced except to our menageries; with a little trouble at first, they might form a much more common ornament about our artificial pieces of water. It is the only form of a Tree Duck common to this continent; in other countries there are, however, two or three others of very great importance in the natural system, whose structure and habits have yet been almost entirely overlooked or lost sight of. These seem to range principally over India, and more sparingly in Africa; and the Summer Duck is the solitary instance, the United States the nearly extreme limit, of its own peculiarities in this division of the world.”

With this note I close this paper, expressing only the hope that the bird will become more largely domesticated; as no more beautiful adornment can be conceived to the parks and shrubberies of gentlemen, such more especially as possess the advantages of small inland rivulets, or pieces of ornamental water, whether natural or artificial.

SONNET.