102 NEW YORK IN THE OLDEN TIME. tlers, all of whom were occupied in the fur trade -land culture being entirely an after consideration. In 1664, the settlement and fort were surrendered to the English by Governor Stuyvesant, who is immortalized in the veritable "History of New York," by the illustrious Diedrich Knickerbocker. It then received the name of New York; but ten years afterward, the Dutch, in time of war, recaptured it again, and called it New Orange, in compliment to the Prince of Orange, for whom they held it, but at the end of one. year, it was restored by treaty to the British, and again took the name of New York, which it has since held. The city was laid out in streets, (not all of them straight ones, we imagine,) in 1656, at which time it contained one hundred and twenty houses, and one thousand inhabitants. During the twelve months military reign of the Dutch, the Mayor, at the head of the city militia, held daily parades before the City Hall or Stadt Huys, then at Coenties Slip, and every evening at sunset, he received from the keeper of the fort the keys of the city, and proceeded with a guard of six, to lock the gates, and then to place a citizen guard as night watches at different places. The Mayor went also his rounds at sunrise, to open the gates and restore the keys to the officer of the fort. Certainly the office of Chief Magistrate must then have been an irksome one to any Mayor who valued his own ease or comfort. It may be amusing to our readers to learn some of the titles formerly so familiar in New York, but now so little understood. The Bourgomaster, or Mayor, the Schepens, or Councillers, and the Schout, or Sheriff, were the rulers of the city, and were always addressed or spoken of, by the title of" their High Mightinesses." The Hoofd Schout was the High Sheriff, the De Fiscael the Attorney General, and the Groot Burgerrecht, and Klein Burgerrecht, or great and small citizenship, marked the two orders of society. Let no one imagine, however, that the De Fiscael of those days answered to the Attorney General of the present time in all respects. Every man then pleaded his own cause, or more commonly "said little, and let things take their own course." only long speech on record is that of a certain pettifogger, or as the chronicle has it, 'Doddipol Jolterhead,' called Cobus Clapperclip, who, in pleading a cause concerning the right of geese to swim in the pond at the head of New-street, before Alderman Van Schlepevalker, did cause his client to be non-suited, by tiring his worship's patience to such a degree, that he fell into a deep sleep, which lasted the remainder of the term." "The In the year 1729, there were no streets beyond Broadway westward, but the lots west of that street all descended severally to the beach, and the entire tract was called "the King's Farm." The northern limits of the city terminated at Beekman-street, and the delightful promenade now called the Battery, was then a ledge of rocks, having the river close up to the present line of State-street, fronting the Battery. New York was formerly almost a miniature Venice, being intersected by water in various directions, where now the living tide of population is daily poured through crowded streets. An aged female was living in 1832, who well remembered that her brother-in-law, dwelling at the corner of Pearlstreet and Maiden Lane, always kept a ferry-boat tied to his stoop, which was frequently needed, to convey him to his place of business in another street. So late as the year 1787, Greenwichstreet, now the third street from the water, on the north river side, was an excellent fishing ground, and quantities of bass and herring were caught there "on the beach," while on a large rock in the middle of the present street, but then in the water, was erected a rude summer-house, affording the boys who congregated there a favorite scene of fun and frolic. Maiden Lane received its name from the fact that the young women usually went there to bleach the family linen, all of which was made at home. A fine creek or brook ran through it, and the adjacent hills, clothed in verdure, sloped gradually to its level, affording an excellent bleaching ground to which hundreds resorted. But the local alterations made in the city within the last hundred years, great as they may be, are less striking than the changes that have taken place in the manners and customs of the inhabitants. In the "olden time," regularity, industry and sobriety characterized the habits of every household, from their "high mightinesses" the Burgomaster, Schepens and Schout, down to the humblest burgher. The family were all assembled before daylight at the morning meal, after which they went to their various employments until the dinner hour of twelve, at which time the kettle was invariably set on the fire for tea, which was punctually furnished at three o'clock. Then the older members of the household went abroad to visit relatives, making the rounds regularly once a year, through the whole circle. At evening, parents and children took their seat on the "stoopes," the women with their knitting, and the men with their pipes, saluting their passing acquaintance, or talking familiarly across the narrow streets, with their opposite neighbors. This favorite practice was "one of the strongest links of union in the Knickerbocker social compact." It encouraged kindly feeling, and cemented the bonds of mutual friendship. The young thus obtained unceremonious introductions to each other, and the way was prepared for the courtships which so often gave life and variety to the scene. When green tea was brought into the city as a great luxury, loaf sugar came with it, but instead of being put into the cup, according to the modern custom, it was broken into large lumps, and laid before each guest, to be nibbled or bitten at pleasure. Some families have been found here within the present century who still adhered to this practice, steadily resisting the innovation of dissolved sugar. Young women of all ranks spun and wove most of their own apparel, and though they dressed gaily when going out to visit, or to attend church, never failed to change their dress for the home-made short gown and petticoat on their return home. This was always done even on Sunday evenings, when a visit from their beaux was a matter of course, as it was considered their best recommendation to be seen thus frugal, and in readiness for any domestic avocation. The young men and boys did the same thing, and thus a Sunday dress lasted a whole life-time, or descended as an heir-loom from generation to generation, for fashions never altered. Dances were very common among the young, on which occasions the entertainment consisted of a pot of chocolate and bread; but the Rev. Dr. Laidlie, an eminent minister from Holland, preaching against "this luxurious abomination, which sometimes kept families awake till nine o'clock at night," the custom gradually fell into disrepute, and was abandoned. "Before the Revolutionary war," says an ancient writer, "folding doors and marble mantels were unknown, and we enjoyed ourselves well enough without sofas, carpets and girandoles. A white floor sprinkled with clean sand, drawn into a variety of fanciful figures with the broom-large tables, and high-backed chairs of walnut, or mahogany, decorated a parlor genteelly enough for anybody. Pewter plates and dishes were in common use, china on dinner tables being considered a great luxury. Glass tumblers were rarely seen, and punch, the common beverage, was drank from one large bowl of silver, or earthen ware, while beer was served in a tankard of silver." Robert Murray, father of the celebrated grammarian, had a coach, which he called his "leathern conveniency," ," "to avoid the scandal of pride or vain-glory " which the possession of such an article might have brought upon him. The most splendid carriage, however, ever exhibited in the city, was that of General Washington, while President of the United States. It was globular, cream-colored, and ornamented with Cupids holding festoons, and wreaths of flowers on the panel work, the whole covered with coach glass, and drawn by six Virginia bays. Such was New York in the olden time. In the language of another "Those were delightful times. Honesty and piety kept off the demons of pride, avarice and fashion; sterling pleasure banished all desire for display. All were plain citizens alike, and the population resembled a great family of industrials, who labored, not that they were compelled to labor, but to exorcise the evil spirit of idleness. We talk of improvement, and we do truly know more of the arts and sciencies, while our commerce is gigantic. We can criticise paintings, invent machines, cross the Atlantic in a fortnight, copy European styles of dress pretty faithfully, marry while boys and girls, and rejoice in our multitudinous play-houses, but what does it all amount to? Are we any happier? No. We have sacrificed the substantials of life to its follies and deceptions. To seem great, we are content to be very small. The question is not, 'How can we make existence a source of unalloyed enjoyment?' but 'How much money can we make, and how many fashionable amusements can we indulge in?' We live in a perpetual whirl of excitement, and perhaps die rich, with soft white hands; yet nobody mourns or thinks of our departure, for business and fashion occupy the attention of our survivors, to the exclusion of every other reflection." The splendid engraving which we have the pleasure of presenting to our readers, gives a lifelike impression of Wall street as it appears at the present day, though one of the Mynheers, about whom we have been writing, would hardly re. cognize it as the same street which once constituted the northern boundary of the city, deriving its name from a line of palisades which ran through it to the junction of Grace and Lumber streets, where the North River limits then terminated in a redoubt. At the left hand corner of the plate, where now our splendid Custom House proudly towers, formerly stood the City Hall, built in 1700, and destroyed in 1811. There, in April, 1789, George Washington was inaugurated first President of these United States, making his sworn pledge, as President, to Chancellor Livingston, on a superb quarto Bible, still preserved by St. John's Lodge, No. 1. The oath of office was administered in the open gallery in front of the Senate Chamber, in the presence of an immense concourse of citizens collected in Broad street. 104 THE BOLD REMONSTRANCE. Directly in front of the City Hall, where now fruit stands, carts, and elegant equipages throng the street, formerly stood the cage, the whipping post, the pillory and stocks, for in those days justice was summarily administered, and penitentiaries were a thing unknown. On the right hand corner of the engraving, was the first city watchhouse, in which not a few aldermen occasionally spent the night, as, in her great blindness, Dame Justice had not then learned to have a proper "respect for persons." The street was then lighted by the inhabitants, every seventh family being compelled by law to hang out a light on a pole, when the moon did not shine. Such an arrangement at the present day would, we think, ensure the better lighting of some of our streets, where now darkness is only just made visible, by the occasional glimmer which meets the eye. On the spot now occupied by the Bank of New York, the elegant stone building with pillars, on the left of the engraving, stood formerly the house of Benedict Arnold, the arch traitor, who lived almost in solitude, being shunned even by all the British officers, for his unparalleled baseness. In 1795, there were in Wall street but two banks, where now are nearly a hundred; and one broker's office, where now five hundred are found in this one street, and more than one thousand within the lamp and watch districts. Here, too, were the mansions of all the distinguished personages of the city. The ancestors of the "upper ten thousand," whose stately palaces ornament the northern part of the city, then resided in Wall street. The only hosiery store in New York was also to be found here in 1794, kept by a Mr. Winslow, who was a barber as well as vender of stockings, and found it necessary to exercise his trade, as ladies then did their own knitting, and but few pairs of hose were sold in Wall street. In our day, the city proper extends some miles north of Wall street, while long streets, and buildings almost innumerable, now occupy ground then wholly covered with water. The population of the city is over six hundred thousand. The annual revenue is now enormous, and the imports are received by millions. More than a hundred thousand newspapers are received in the Post Office for distribution each day. About fifty thousand letters and circulars pass daily through the office, including those delivered in the city, and those sent to various offices through the United States. This number exceeds, by one half, that under the old law. From these brief statistics, some idea may be formed by our readers who have never seen this great city, of its present magnitude and wealth; though, of the extremes which constantly meet and pain the eye-the extremes of princely magnificence and squalid penury-of reckless extravagance and abject want, nothing but actual observation can give even a faint impression. For ourselves, when we see these things, and contrast them with the comparative equality of condition and solid independence of a country life, we are tempted to exclaim with Cowper "God made the country, and man made the town- LOUISE. Ladies' Wreath. BY H. L. STOUGHTON. SIGHETH my bosom, my lashes are wet, Love of my loved one; his beauty and bride! She hath gone up where the garments are white, THE BOLD REMONSTRANCE. BY REV, W. M. RICHARDS. SPIRIT of Mercy! why was Eden curst? Pison and Hiddekel, Gihon and Phrath! Vain worm! inquiry spare; let silence seal And now though thousands do that grace deny, And turn their backs on Jesus Christ and die, Thou canst be saved. Let this thine answer be, And "wait the teachings of eternity." FALSE EDUCATION. 105 FALSE EDUCATION. BY DR. J. H. HANAFORD. THOUGH the present is an age of boasted progress and of real improvement, much still remains to be done before our institutions of learning will become what they ought to be, in order to develop budding powers in accordance with The idea physical, intellectual, and moral laws. of a triple nature seems too often to have escaped the observation of many educators, to whom are committed the intellectual interests of the young. Pupils, especially in the earlier years of an educational course, almost uniformly are urged forward intellectually with an apparent disregard of the injury sustained by the physical organism. Precocity is often mistaken for a healthful enlargement of mental powers. The fond mother wishes her child to outstrip its classmates; the doting father, from entirely erroneous ideas of harmonious development, speaks flatteringly or encouragingly, and the ambitious teacher aspires to an elevated position in the profession, and the result is, that the child is sacrificed. Such premature and forced processes,— they should not be dignified with the term education-forcibly remind one of hot-house productions, in securing which nature's methods are subverted, producing deformity and monstrosities. These tender germs of intellectual greatness, bursting, as they do, through a delicately-formed physical organization, such, indeed, as should warn us of the imminent danger of overtasking the mind at this critical juncture, are, of all others, most endangered by the more usual customs of mental training. Those of refined temperament, the more susceptible, ordinarily become victims; they die of" school-reom abuses." Stimulated mental activity leaves its impress on its physical organ. The body reels under its fearfully accumulating burden; its functions become deranged, and take on abnormal action; harmony and the functional equilibrium are destroyed. Violent disease and premature death close the scene, or educational farce, more properly called. Another result, equally, nay, more disastrous, is alarmingly on the increase in far too many of our most celebrated institutions of learning. I refer to excessive mental culture, while the spiritual nature is almost entirely neglected. Nay, worse. The young are often contaminated by vile associates, corrupted by vitiating and skeptical principles, carefully and industriously inculcated by those whose great design is to undermine the fundamental principles of the Christian religion. The seed sown in the confiding bosom of the pupil by one whom he has been taught to respect, and whose position and duties secure almost unlimited influence, far too often germinates, and produces the legitimate fruits of unrighteousness. Habits of dissipation and open immorality thus become almost the necessary attendants of a modern educational career. The intellect is goaded on towards its maximum of development, while those powers of the soul, the exercise and expansion of which constitute the great design of mortal life, remain undisciplined, dwarfish and stagnant. Though the more intricate principles of science may be mastered, apparently, without effort, the mind stored with an exhaustless fund of knowledge, yet the relations of man to man, and of the creature to the Creator, may be but very imperfectly understood. The most simple principles of justice, equity, reciprocity, benevolence and piety, are either beyond their just appreciation, or are so at variance with early acquired habits and preconceived opinions, that the obligations which result from them are too seldom acknowledged. It is not strange, therefore, that among the profoundest philosophers, in the estimation of the community, the most brilliant geniuses, there are some of the most boasting infidels, and even the vilest men. Education, "falsely so called," while the moral nature remains undeveloped, very naturally inclines to skepticism. The mind, thus thrown from its equilibrium, is disqualified to appreciate. moral truths. The "eye of reason scans its object through a discolored medium, presenting deformity, or deep obscurity of vision. That education, whose tendency is to develop all of the powers of man, harmoniously and steadily, alone commends itself to an enlightened community. Such, only, secures the highest perfection of body and mind, and the integrity and energy of their functions. By such only, can we avoid the distorted conceptions and vague theorizing so prevalent in this fallen world, By such only, can we hope to avoid the morbid state of the organ of thought, tending, as it does, to insanity and imbecility. So intimate are the relations of the body and mind, that neither can materially suffer without producing corresponding effects on the other. If the body is crushed or jaded by excessive labors, or racked by pain or disease, the mind becomes inactive or irritable, On the contrary, grief, anxiety, long-continued and laborious mental effort, excessive joy or sorrow, if endured for any considerable length of time, must produce disas trous results on the physical organism. A careful observance, therefore, of the conditions and laws of the body, a proper development and training of all its powers, resulting in vigor, 106 HENRY KIRKE WHITE. power, and stamina, cannot be lost in its influence on the mind. "Other things being equal," a vigorous and hardy form, firmness of muscle, expansiveness of the chest, strength of physical endurance, combined with compactness of fibre, will sustain, if not produce, profundity of intellect and acuteness of mental perception. Apparent exceptions, it is admitted, may exist, yet, observation and sound philosophy teach, that a "sound mind exists in a sound body," and vice versa. Physical education, therefore, is indispensable to consistent and harmonious training of the youthful mind. Mental culture may not only be combined with gymnastic sports and ordinary manual labor, but by such aids it may become more rapid, while such a change of laboranother name for rest-will give a zest to scientific pursuits, and relieve many a student from ennui, of which so many complain. Mere labor, such as continued exercise of one kind becomes, cannot perfectly develop the whole man; there must be a due admixture of recreation-something to divert, to lead into new channels of thought. Whatever affords intensity and energy of muscular action, sends the blood coursing along in its accustomed rounds, imparting a corresponding vigor to mental action. Let, therefore, the student breathe the pure air of heaven, mingle with the busy world, become familiar with the wonders of creation, and rejoice in the vigorous exercise of physical powers. Let the young man scale the mountain's rugged height; stand on its lofty brow, and catc h the first rays of the rising sun, range through forests, or along the river's brink, everywhere observing and studying the wonderful works of the Creator, and, through nature, look upward to the great First Cause of all things. Let the physical features of this beautiful world be examined closely, their symmetry and nice adaptations carefully studied, in connection with the invigoration of the "outer man." Let the young lady discard her erroneous ideas of propriety, her false delicacy, pluck the early flowers of Spring, as she roams in freedom and gayety through meadows and woodland. Let her expand her contracted chest, by inhaling the odor-scented breezes, and the invigorating air of the hill-top, give firmness and stamina to her muscles by vigorous exercise, and, inded, call into action all of the powers which a benevolent Creator has conferred upon her. Then shallwe have a far greater number of those who are really intellectual, who can endure continued labor, both of body and of mind. Then our dyspeptics, hypochondriacs, and the hordes of invalids now found in literary circles, would be numbered among the things that were, while their places would be occupied by those who would demonstrate to the world the fact, that a literary career is not necessarily prejudicial to health, vigor, and longevity. TO A YOUNG FRIEND. BY MISS CROSS. SMILE on, smile on, thou art happy now, Yes! love them; for never again will they Thou art happy now, as the promised bride I would not crush one hope of thy heart, HENRY KIRKE WHITE. Of the many young men whose promise the grave has blighted, there is not one whose few years of life guaranteed higher expectations, or whose name is associated with so much that is heroic and virtuous as, HENRY KIRKE WHITE. His admirers are, perhaps, not so numerous as they should be, nor is his influence all that could be wished. Yet, when the time that he lived in is considered, the attention which he gained and secured, is not a little remarkable. The first fifty years of the present century has added more to English literature-to the world's literature-than any previous half century in history. It was prodigal in great men. Not only were they numerous, but the genius of most of them was of the highest order. It was doubtless a bad time for mediocre-or indeed talent of any kind; and many who would have achieved eminence and secured a high reputation, in their own day, at least, passed away unknown, their efforts dimmned to darkness by the achievements of their cotemporaries, or deterred entirely from making any effort where so much was expected and required. An author receiving at such a time any degree of favor, is, of itself, a recommendation, and we would |