| band have been highly favored with invitations so frequent, to breakfast or take tea from home, that we were ofttimes obliged to excuse ourselves. Our

WE are permitted to make some interesting ex-home has been so pleasant that it was no pleasure tracts from a letter written by the wife of Eber Kimble, one of the "Twelve Apostles," to her friends, whom some of our readers will recollect as having formerly been a resident of Mendon in this county. The immense train of some 600 wagons left Council Bluffs the 1st of June, and reached the " promised land" on the 1st of September, making the passage of some 1100 miles in about 100 travelling days.

We passed many tribes of Indians during our journey, and were well treated by all excepting the DEAR SISTER AND FRIENDS :-We are now in Otoes. Many came to our wagons, neatly dressed the Great Salt Lake Valley, which place we en-in garments made of skins of beasts, and trimmed tered two weeks since, and were met by hundreds with wampum, on which great taste and neatness of men, women, and children, whose dress and was displayed. They rode excellent horses, seemed manners would have done honor to your eastern happy, and well pleased with the attention they recities, and so many glad hearts and cheerful coun-ceived from us. They offered ten ponies for some tenances are not to be found in all your domains. of our prettiest girls. An excellent supper was in readiness for us on our arrival, of which we cheerfully partook. Our families were all in good health. As a people we have been remarkably blessed with health on our journey, and but few accidents happened to us. One child was killed by falling from and being run over by a wagon.

Our journey to this place has been long, but not tedious until we came into the mountains, when we found the roads bad, and the weather cold and N. B. We have just received a present of a winstormy. Previous to this, it appeared more like a ter squash, that weighs seventy-four pounds, and a pleasure-party than a moving community. Almost round turnip, which weighs eight pounds and nine daily would be seen groups gathered in parties, and ounces. These are some of the products of our their tables spread with every luxury that a reason-beautiful valley. If you don't believe it, come and able person could ask or desire. Myself and hus- see.

CHILDREN.

BY MRS. HARRIET BEECHER STOWE.

"A little child shall lead them." ONE cold market morning I looked into a milliner's shop, and there I saw a hale, hearty, wellbrowned young fellow from the country, with his long cart-whip, and lion shag-coat, holding up some little matter, and turning it about in his great fist. And what do you suppose it was? A baby's bonnet! A little, soft, blue, satin hood, with a swan's-down border, white as the new-fallen snow, with a frill of rich blonde around the edge.

By his side stood a very pretty woman, holding with no small pride, the baby-for evidently it was a baby. Any one could read that fact in every glance, as they looked at each other, and at the little hood, and then at the large, blue, unconscious eyes, and fat, dimpled cheeks, of the little one. It was evident that neither of them had ever seen a baby like that before!

He does have a child-and his child tears up his papers, tumbles over his things, and pulls his nose, like all other children-and what has the precise man to say for himself? Nothing! He is like everybody else—" a little child shall lead him!”

Poor little children, they bring and teach us human beings more good than they get in return. How often does the infant, with its soft cheek and helpless hand, awaken a mother from worldliness and egotism to a whole world of a new and higher feeling. How often does the mother repay this, by doing her best to wipe off, even before the time, the dew and fresh simplicity of childhood, and make her daughter too soon a woman of the world, as she has been.

The hardened heart of the worldly man is touched by the guileless tones and simple caresses of his son, but he repays it in time, by imparting to his boy all the crooked tricks and hard ways and callous maxims, which have undone himself.

Go to the jail-the penitentiary-and find there

"But really, Mary," said the young man, "is the wretch most sullen, brutal, and hardened. Then not three dollars very high?"

look at your infant son.

Such as he is to you, such to some mother was this man. That hard hand was soft and delicatethat rough voice was tender and lisping; fond eyes followed as he played-and he was rocked and cradled as something holy. There was a time when his heart, soft and unworn, might have opened to questionings of his Maker, and been sealed with

Mary very prudently said nothing, but, taking the hood, tied it on the little head, and held up the baby. The man looked, and grinned, and, without another word, down went the three dollars, (all that the last week's butter came to,) and, as they walked out of the shop, it is hard to say which looked the most delighted with the bargain. "Ah," thought I, "a little child shall lead the seal of heaven. But harsh hands seized itthem!''

Another day, as I passed a carriage-factory, I saw a young mechanic at work on a wheel. The rough body of a carriage stood beside him—and there, wrapped up snugly, all hooded and cloaked, sat a dark-eyed girl, about a year old, playing with a great shaggy dog. As I stopped, the man looked up from his work, and turned admiringly towards his little companion, as much as to say, "See what I have got here!"

Yes," thought I, "and if the little lady ever gets a glance from admiring swains, as sincere as that, she will be lucky."

Ah, these little children!-little witches!-pretty, even in all their thoughts and absurdities!-win'ning, even in their sins and iniquities! See, for example, yonder little fellow in a naughty fit; he has shaken his long curls over his deep blue eyes -the fair brow is bent in a frown-the rose-leaf lip is pushed up in infinite defiance-and the white shoulders thrust naughtily forward. Can any but a child look so pretty even in their naughtiness?

and all is over with him forever.

So of the tender, weeping child-he is made the callous, heartless man; of the all-believing child— the sneering sceptic; of the beautiful and modest the shameless and abandoned; and this is what the world does for the little one.

There was a time when the Divine One stood upon the earth, and little children sought to draw near to him. But harsh human beings stood between him and them, forbidding their approach. Ah, has it not always been so? Do not even we, with our hard and unsubdued feelings-our worldly and unscriptural habits and maxims-stand like a dark screen between our child and its Saviour, and keep, even from the choice bud of our hearts, the radiance which might unfold it for paradise? "Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not," is still the voice of the Son of God—but the cold world still closes round and forbids. When of old, the disciples would question their Lord of the higher mysteries of his kingdom, he took a little child, and set him in the midst, as a sign of him Then comes the instant change-flashing smiles who would be greatest in the kingdom of heaven. and tears as the good comes back all in a rush, That gentle teacher still remains to us. By every and you are overwhelmed with protestations, prom-hearth and fireside, Jesus still sets the little child ises, and kisses. They are irresistible, too, these in the midst of us! little ones. They pull away the scholar's pen- Wouldst thou know, O parent, what is that faith tumble about his papers-make somersets over his which unlocks heaven? Go not to wrangling pobooks-and what can you do? They tear up news-lemics, or creeds and forms of geology; but draw papers-litter the carpets-break, pull, and upset, to thy bosom thy little one, and read in that clear and then jabber unintelligible English in self-defence and trusting eye, the lesson of eternal life. Be -and what can you do for yourself? only to thy God as thy child is to thee, and all is "If I had a child," says the precise man, "you done. Blessed shalt thou be indeed-" a little should see!" I child shall lead thee."

From Chambers' Journal.
FROM THE GRAY TO THE WHITE.

A vast chimney, standing in solitary majesty, and blackening the whole sky with the smoke of its pipe, marks out the position of the great bleaching establishment we visited. The peculiar sound of dashing and tumbling waters, with the deep roll of machinery, and with every now and then the escape of a cumulus of steam up into the air from the roof of one portion of the building, assures the visitor he has not mistaken his des+ tination, and the opening door lets him in to the tumultuous scene of labor. A strong smell of burnt tinder fills the air, and is perceived to proceed from a low-roofed, small building, detached from the rest of the establishment. This is the

water. This process is repeated three times—
twice on the "face" and once on the back of the
calico. By this curious plan all the light downy
matter is actually burnt clean off; yet the fabric
is uninjured, in consequence of the rapidity with
which it is made to pass over the hot metal.
ton of coal, in a good furnace, will by this simple

FIFTY years ago, could we have followed a piece of cotton cloth from the loom, we should have seen it packed in great bales and shipped off to Holland to be whitened. Could we have watched its further progress, we should have seen it consigned to some Dutch bleacher, and under his hands undergo a process of boiling in potash lees, and of subsequent washing and soaking in buttermilk, and then we might have beheld hundreds of acres of green grass covered with the fabric, forming one immense carpet of calico. After an exposure to the summer sky for months," singeing" house. Standing at the door of this autumn would see it all gathered up again, re- place, a rather .alarming scene is brought before packed, reshipped, and in the hands of the Eng- the eye. There is low furnace in the centre of lish manufacturer once more. Indeed, in many in- the room, with a fire beneath glowing at white stances we need not have left England to see this heat. At the upper part of the furnace is a semiprimitive method of bleaching, for many a fair cylinder of copper, heated to a bright red, and a English field was likewise turned into a "bleach-man is seen winding a long piece of calico right ing croft." A period extending over several over this burning metal. Every instant we exmonths was thus necessary to give a snowy lustre pected the fabric to burst into a blaze. But no! to this product of the loom. a cloud of glowing sparks rose up the chimney, Science has now outstripped time and the whit- but the tissue continued to pass smoothly and safeening influence of the solar ray; and by a com-ly over, being wound on to a roller, and wetted as bination of many, but simple and rapid processes, it was wound up by a number of minute jets of has wrought out in a day what was formerly the work of many weeks, even when aided by the most favorable atmospheric influences. We propose, by recounting what was brought under our personal observation at one of the great bleach works of this country, to bring the various interesting steps by which this remarkable process is so swiftly effected under the reader's notice, satis-method smooth about twenty-four miles of calico! fied that it both deserves and will receive his wil- The cylinders used to be of iron, and were burnt ling and attentive consideration. The last of the away in a week; now they are copper, and last textile processes concerned in the production of for two or three months. A more ingenious procalico, power or hand-loom weaving, leaves the cess has been patented, in which the downy parcloth in a condition as to color and surface wholly ticles are burnt away by causing a number of miunfit for the finer purposes of human life. Tech-nute jets of gas to be, as it were, sucked through nically, the cloth is said to be in the "gray;" but the fabric, and thus these light particles are conin reality its hue is that of a pale buff. This is sumed and carried away in an instant. We bedue to the presence of resinous and amylaceous lieve there are actually large sihgeing works in coloring particles in, or united with, the vegetable fibre. As these, in the process of bleaching, are acted upon by chemical reagents, which do not, at least when applied in the same proportionate strength, affect the vegetable fibre, they are partly extracted from the tissue, and partly decomposed. Thus bleaching-so far as principles are concerned -becomes resolved into a very simple process; although, it must be added, certain curious chemistries are concerned in it, the exposition of which is not very easy. The surface also of the cloth The first great object has now been accomis so manifestly rough, downy, and covered with plished. The surface of the fabric is in that conloose fibres, that it is evident it must be sub-dition as to evenness and freedom from down mitted to some smoothing procedure before it can possibly be fitted for apparel or for the process of calico-printing. The last of these processes-the smoothing"-will be very quickly got over; but the first-the extraction and decomposition of the coloring principles of the calico-will occupy the entire remaining portion of our paper.

which this patent is carried out, where only singeing is done; but the process applies to a great number of other goods besides calico-such as bobbin-nets, muslins, &c. To have had such a piece of cloth as this looks now, being of a deepnankeen color, from the effects of the singeing, put into his hands to bleach, would have driven a Dutchman almost to despair half a century ago; and it does in fact look as if we had made a step further back instead of in progress.

which the manufacturer desires, and which the ultimate processes it is to be subjected to imperatively demand. The roll of cloth is therefore removed, and conveyed in trucks to that portion of the works which, though the entire series of processes is now totally different, still retains the old name, the "bleaching croft." It is an apartment

66 sour

The

will be found to be gradually gaining a whiter as-
pect, though still far from white. It has now to
undergo another boiling. Once more the revolving
rollers, which are suspended from the ceiling in a
convenient position near the keir furnaces, are set
in motion, and pour down a swift stream of cloth
into the hot and yawning caldron beneath.
keir is this time filled with a dilute solution of soda-
ash, and the boiling is continued for ten hours.
This time being expired, the end of the immense
length is hauled out, and put in connection with the
hard-worked washing-engine, which fulfils its usual
office, and discharging the washed cloth, it is di-
rected by a man into a square receptacle, and stacked
up there.

of great size, paved with freestone, and abounding | precisely similar principles, only that, in the place in cisterns, drums, and shafts in great numbers; of water, it is made to contain a very dil dilute soluand it would be well for the visitor to be furnished tion of sulphuric acid and water. This is called by with waterproof shoes and upper clothing if he the artisans employed in the the first process would watch minutely the various splashing opera-ing." From the souring-engine it is again taken tions which are conducted here. Some expert to be washed in pure water, to get rid of the superneedlewomen are stationed in one part of it, whose fluous acid; and if the cloth is now examined, it duty it is to sew the ends of the pieces of singed cloth together until a continuous web is formed, containing from 400 to 500 pieces, and being from six to eight statute miles in length. This vast quantity of cloth is disposed in a convenient heap, and one end of it is drawn into the washing-engine. This machine consists of two long horizontal wooden rollers, one of which is suspended above, and the other lies under water in an. appropriate cisterm. The cloth passes over and under these rollers a great number of times in a gentle spiral, and leaves them in the middle, to travel onward, and to be laid in folds on a four-wheeled truck a little in front of the machine. As a large supply of pure water is continually pouring into this engine, the soiled water escapes from it, and carries with it all that "dressing" or paste which the weaver so sedulously introduced in the manufacture of his cloth. It would thus not be difficult to show that many thousands of barrels of flour are actually wasted in giving an appearance to the cloth; and the first machinery which applies the dressing, and the last, whose only intention is to remove it from the same fabric, with their original cost of construction, and the continued outlay of power for their working, being also taken into consideration, it would become manifest that many thousands of pounds are thrown away in the attempt to make an article look better than it really is.

The intention of the next process is the extraction of any resinous or oily matters from the cloth. To effect this, at the farthest side of the croft-house there is a set of curiously-arranged caldrons of castiron, seven or eight in number, and sufficiently capacious to hold each enough of cloth to describe, if laid evenly down, the circumference of the metropolis. These are called technically "keirs." They are of a curious construction; in the centre of each is a perpendicular iron pipe, with a sort of bonnet over its orifice; they have also a perforated false bottom, into which steam is blown; and when the caldron is filled with water and cloth, the injected steam forces up the water in interrupted jets through the pipe, which, by means of the bonnet, disperses it all over the cloth; and this process is continued, the liquor being a strong lye of lime, for eight hours, 1500 pieces being boiled at once. To see one of these great boilers in full work is to have a mimic geyser brought before the eyes, whose roarings and spoutings would not do discredit to the great original. The cloth is hauled out of the keir at the conclusion of this process by revolving rollers, and once more passes, at the rate of four or five miles an hour, through the washing-engine. All the alkaline liquor which it contained is thus washed away; but in order to insure its removal more completely, the cloth travels from the washing-engine into one upon

From this point the other class of bleaching principles come into play. The resinous and oleaginous matters have been fully extracted by the previous alternate alkaline lixiviations and washings in pure water. The coloring principles which remain, and give the cloth now a dirty pale yellow tinge, not being amenable to the powers of alkaline solution, must be dealt with by direct chemical energies. This, in fact, is the commencement of what in strictness should be called the bleaching process. The preparation vulgarly called chloride of lime, more properly chlorinated or chloruretted limefor the first phrase indicates a chemical composition which does not belong to it-is that which effects this remarkable decomposition. It has received the strange-sounding title of "chemick," probably to contrast bleaching by chemical with the old plan of bleaching by solar influence. The "chemicking" process is thus conducted: about twenty-two pounds of" chloride of lime" are mixed together with water, and the solution being brought to a proper strength, is conveyed into a machine of the same construction as the washing-engine. The end of the piece is then directed over certain pulleys, and enters the bleaching-trough, where it is repeatedly immersed in the chlorinated solution; and on leaving the machine, is guided by a boy into a recess, where it lies in great coils for several hours. When it is considered to have lain long enough, it undergoes a second process of immersion in dilute sulphuric acid and water. The effect of this is to produce a chemical decomposition in the chlorinated lime; the lime quits its equivalent of chlorine under impulse of the stronger affinity it entertains for the acid, and the gas thus liberated in every fibre of the cloth, decomposes the coloring principles, leaving the cloth almost in a state of perfect whiteness. The washing-machine again receives it, and cleanses away the acid; it is then soaked in a solution of soda, in order to avoid any free acid entering with it into the further processes; and again it is washed in clean water. It then goes through a second chem

icking, is again allowed to lie, and is again soused, | works connected with this establishment at Mayfield and afterwards washed. The cloth is now perfectly in Manchester. white; its complexion will endure even the favorite comparison-" as white as snow." Every trace of color has been removed, and a spotless purity is left. It is then thoroughly soaked in hot water, is passed between a pair of wooden rollers, which perform that hydro-extractive operation called by the laundresses "wringing," by squeezing the cloth powerfully as it passes between them until it is almost destitute of water, when it takes a final leave of the croft in which it has played so many bustling parts, by disappearing from view through a hole in the ceiling.