mill, and a fall of a few feet, furnishes a site for some little factory, generally for spinning cotton or wool. These situations are often scenes of great picturesque beauty. Sometimes a mountain-rivulet, rushing over a rocky bed, between hills covered with groves of forest-trees, and high rocks which stand out here and there, to mark the stages of its descent, turns the wheel of a little mill, perched upon a steep rock, or the high bank of the stream, accompanied with a little cluster of cottages, and shaded with the oak and maple, and then flows below, after passing under a rustic plankbridge through a fertile valley, enlivened with many a farm-house and orchard. Sometimes it is a substantial stone-mill, seated on a level spot, just at the head of a beautiful valley, with pleasant dwellings, not crowded together, but scattered about it, each in the midst of a little clump of fruit-trees, and high rocky hills, almost covered with trees, in the back-ground, and a broad pond of smooth water stretching away between the opening hills.

The Ponogansett Mill, a cotton-factory of some four or five thousand spindles, is situated in one of the loveliest of these scenes, which presents a considerable amount of varied beauty, though without the wild grandeur of some of those farther back among the hills. It is within a mile of the Narragansett Bay, of which it commands a fine view, between the high banks that rise, now on the right hand and now on the left of the little river, as, growing wider and wider, it winds its way to the sea. The tide flows up to the mill, and at the flood will bear a small sloop through the channel; it is however chiefly used by pleasure-boats, whose sails often enliven its waters between the mill and the bay. The bridge is close by the mill and just below the mill-dam, above which the pond forms a large sheet of water, extending back between steep hills till it is lost among the tall trees which spread out their branches from the banks, and the many little islands lying in that part of the pond. On the one side, the house and gardens of the proprietor overlook the pond and mill, and on the other, under the shade of the trees, crooked little foot-paths are traced along the steep bank, winding up and down among the bushes, and occasionally crossing each other. These are favorite resorts in the warm summer evenings, the mossy banks and large projecting roots forming rustic seats, where little parties of half a dozen may sit and chat in company. There are other favorite spots. 'Bald Hill' is one. This rises, crowned with rocks, a little way back from the pond, and overlooks a large part of Narragansett Bay, with its islands, its steam-boats and its shipping. Here are favorite walks for the Sunday afternoon. 'Happy Hollow' is another. This is a little vale, encircled with smooth turfy hills on all sides save one, where it looks out on the distant bay; it is shaded with the sweet flowering locust and broad-spreading oak trees. It was so named by those who held a meeting here at the time of one of the religious revivals, in commemoration of their own conversion, and the name is so appropriate to the beautiful spot that it remains with it.

The dwelling-houses of the village form the least pleasing part of

these scenes. They are crowded together close to the road on both sides of the bridge. They have no door-yards enclosed. Their front doors open strait into the street, and back of the houses there is an open space, common to them all, flanked by the pig-styes and cow-sheds. Though some of the door-steps are kept as clean and neat as they may be in such a situation, the whole group has a slovenly appearance, and seems unfavorable to habits of tidiness or feelings of home. This bare, exposed appearance of the houses is characteristic of the factory-villages generally. We do not know whether we can account for it satisfactorily; perhaps it is owing to the crowded condition of the inmates, and the little time they have to bestow upon dwellings which they may occupy only a short time. They spend the time and noney which they can spare for such purposes in the adornment of their persons, which produces a more striking effect. Beside all this, the mill is more their place of abode than the houses where they eat and sleep. It is in the mill that their time is spent, from early in the morning till sun-set in summer, and till the middle.of the evening in winter. Those who do not work in the mill for the most part, work harder at home in cooking for the rest and taking care of their children. Most of the girls work in the 'weave-shop.' A few tend the 'warpers,' the spoolers' and the 'speeders,' but these are generally young girls, and a small proportion of the number employed in the mill.

Of the weave-shop' any one can get a good idea by only going into it. It is a large room, filled with looms, placed together in pairs, with just room for the weaver to pass around each pair with ease. The upper part of the room is generally clear of those shafts, drums and belts you see in other parts of the mill, the power being communicated through the floor. The noise of the power. loom is somewhat like that of the hand-loom; but the former beats quicker and sharper; and when one, two or three hundred of them are at work in a room together, they make a tremendous racket, which is more than persons of weak nerves, delicate constitutions, or whatever it may be that renders them very sensitive in regard to any noise, are able to endure. Those accustomed to it, however, are not at all incommoded by it, and experience no bad effect from it, except now and then when it makes one hard of hearing, and injures the voice, as it almost always does if they sing much at their work. Each weaver tends two, three or four, and sometimes more looms, according to her experience and activity. Four looms is the most common number for a girl of ordinary tact and activity, though if the spinning has been well done they will not occupy all her time. The remainder she will spend according to her taste; either in solitary thought, in chatting with her associates, or in sitting down by her looms with a book, or with knitting or needle-work in her hands. They are paid in proportion to the quantity of cloth they weave. The four-loom weavers in the Ponogansett Mill earn on an average five dollars a-week; some making rather more, and some less. In several of the mills the best weavers earn three or four dollars a-week more than they do here. Of their week's wages

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they pay a dollar and a quarter for board. Whatever they earn over their necessary expenses is variously disposed of. Some lay it up, and have considerable sums of money in the bank; some join with their brothers and sisters in paying for a little house and lot; some provide themselves with household furniture. This is a favorite plan with many of the younger part, who are looking forward to a settlement in married life, being, it may be, already engaged.' They pride themselves upon being furnished with silver spoons and all the necessaries and conveniences of house-keeping. Some use it to pay the expenses of their own education during a part of the year; some, whose fathers are idle and dissipated, for the support and schooling of their little brothers and sisters; and some spend it entirely in dress and decoration. These last, though in fact but a small part, have attracted more notice than all the rest, and careless observers have done the injustice of ascribing to the whole the follies and weakness of this class. These are indeed wild and giddy-headed, mostly ignorant, and content to remain so. They have one grand double aim, and that is to make a display and 'catch a beau.' They fancy that after they once 'get married' they shall have but little to do. They will not see, though the examples of it lie all around them, that the toils they are undertaking will make the labors of their former life seem like mere play. Many and many a sigh do they afterward breathe for those careless and happy days. Some of them, after having seen much trouble, and having but small families left to care for, do go back into the mills to work. But how they are changed! The light elastic spirits of youth will never return, and care's indelible impression is left upon their brow. They move to their work with a quiet step, and look with a calm, perchance even cheerful countenance, upon the scene around them. But a faint smile is the warmest response called forth by their lighthearted companions' most joyous mirth. Peace and rest be with them! -for they have passed through many afflictions and some fiery trials.

NOVEMBER winds swept o'er the hills
Where once in childhood's pleasant hours

I sought, along the sunny rills,

To cull fresh wreaths of early flowers;
Two favorite elms, whose giant forms
Have braved for centuries the storms,
Stand in a cool sequestered spot
Beside my childhood's humble cot.

Beneath their shade, in days gone by,
A doting mother sank to rest;

I saw the last tear in her eye,

I saw the sod placed on her breast;
A sister too lies by her side,
A brother, in his youthful pride;
These consecrate that sacred spot,
Beside my childhood's humble cot.

ALL the refinements of philosophy can add nothing to the clearness and certainty with which the mind perceives that an action supposes an agent; that an effect arises from a cause; and that all the appearances of work and design in the universe are unquestionable proofs of the existence of some BEING possessed of skill and intelligence equal to the effect produced.' HARRIS HERMES.

WERE it not for this admirable distribution of design, skill and intelligence throughout the universe, governed by the irresistible laws of Nature, which, like a gravitating power, silently though forcibly impel man to cultivate a knowledge of her infinite productions, so indispensable to his preservation and happiness, and so finely adapted to the organic economy of life, for the gratification of his many wants and the promotion of his enjoyments, the world on which he is cast would become a dreary and hopeless scene of adverse principles; based on the fluctuating elements of good and evil, without any conceivable purpose or ultimate end. But we have a far different result in the amazing resources which the great laboratory of nature administers to every grade of the human species, as a redeeming solace to all the evils that afflict mankind in a perverted state of society.

The laws of nature never appear to operate en masse; and where intelligent Individuality is lost in unimprovable Numbers, public opinion, and all associations in masses, become many-headed monsters. In such startling extremes of knowledge and ignorance, civilization and barbarism inevitably become confounded in one confused mass of splendor and squalor; such as the Czar of Russia