CONTENTS

[THE DESULTORY REMARKER.]
[THE VILLAGE TEACHER.]
[SEEDS.]
["IS IT PEACE, JEHU?"]
[LETTERS OF A CITIZEN TO HIS FRIENDS IN THE COUNTRY.]
[TREATISE ON AGRICULTURE.]
[MR. NICHOLSON'S PRIZE ESSAY.]
[AGRICULTURAL EDUCATION.]
[ON THE GRAPE VINE, WITH ITS WINES, BRANDIES, SALT, AND DRIED FRUITS.]
[OFFICERS OF THE PHILADELPHIA SOCIETY FOR PROMOTING AGRICULTURE, ELECTED JANUARY 18, 1820.]
[LAW CASE.]
[MISCELLANY.]
[DIED.]
[POEMS.]
[TO CORRESPONDENTS.]
[TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES.]

[FOR THE RURAL MAGAZINE.]
THE DESULTORY REMARKER.
No. II.

Virtue is a good,
No foe can spoil, and lasting to the grave.
Glover.

To that branch of the harmonious family of Literature, of which the Essayist is a legitimate member, one peculiar immunity has uniformly been accorded. He has permission, at all times, to commune with his readers, unrestrained by drawing-room etiquette, and without being required to appear in full dress. He can, in this respect, plead immemorial usage, or literary common law, as a privileged personage. But, as neatness of costume and decorous deportment are never disregarded, by the well-bred man, in any circumstances; so, the well-bred writer will not fail in his observance of neatness of style, and, what is of infinitely more importance, correctness of sentiment. Familiarity, inordinately indulged, is another name for rudeness. Motives of the most imperious character, calculated to prompt him to such a course of conduct, may be found, in contemplating the splendid union of talent and virtue, by which many of those were distinguished, who have trodden the same path before him. They were, alternately engaged, in culling, from its borders, flowers variegated with every tint of beauty, or in gathering the ripest, most salutary, and most delightful fruit. Although, on the authority of Bacon and Roscommon, the author of the "English Dictionary" has defined an Essay to be "an irregular, indigested piece," yet there are other eminent scholars, who, it would appear, did not consider such a definition as perfectly correct. John Locke, one of the greatest men, of whom Great Britain can boast, and the late Dr. Smith, of Princeton, have imparted a degree of dignity to the term, not in exact accordance with the generally received acceptation of its import. These may, however, be viewed in the light of exceptions to a general rule. While furnished with the opportunity, permit me to dwell for a moment, with some emphasis, on the meritorious Essays of these celebrated writers. The philosophy of Locke has no affinity, whatever, with the infidel philosophy of more recent times. He was a firm believer in the sublime, and inexpressibly important, truths of Revelation; and consequently, a serious and devout Christian. His analysis of mind, and the index he has given by which to ascertain where its strength may be profitably exerted, and where the depths of profundity present themselves, which its limited line cannot fathom, are calculated to teach its true nature and powers. The perusal of such a work, will necessarily widen the mental horizon of every intelligent reader, and, at the same time, impart a taste for that practical mode of inquiry which is characterized by closeness of research. He advances step by step in his investigations; you are never solicited to adopt his conclusions, but they are made manifest, in the broad and clear light of truth. Dr. Smith, a countryman of our own, was a man of profound learning, possessing a genius of the highest order. One reason, for entertaining a high opinion of his Essay on the causes of the difference of complexion, &c. in the human species, shall be stated. We all have our prejudices; some of which, viewed through the deceptive medium of education and habit, are probably concealed from ourselves.—Amongst these prejudices, there are none, perhaps, stronger or more inveterate, even in Pennsylvania, than those which exist against the unfortunate and injured African. Oh, my country! thou art madly provoking the tremendous indignation of Heaven, by a perilous perseverance in wrong and injustice!

And hast thou then no law besides thy will,
No just criterion fix'd to good and ill?

Futurity is wisely concealed from our view; but of this solemn truth there can be no question,—VICE and OPPRESSION will not always go unpunished. Almost unconscious of it, the unjust bias, above alluded to, had in some degree taken possession of my mind; but was, it is hoped, almost entirely removed, by an attentive and thorough examination of his doctrines. He, as well as Locke, contemplates true philosophy in the elevated character of a hand-maid to Revelation. One of his leading objects is, to establish, by a course of fair and manly reasoning, the veracity of the Mosaic account of the creation.

When I sat down at my desk, I had intended to consult a few of the pages of our early history, for the purpose of finding some profitable lessons for the instruction of the present generation; but, by indulging a desultory propensity, the original purpose has almost been lost sight of. The salutary effect, which results from frequently ascending to first principles, has been long known and acknowledged. There is many a prodigal spendthrift among us, who would do well, in various respects, to imitate the example of his industrious and unostentatious ancestor, from whom he has inherited the means of indulging his extravagant desires. He should remember, that the highest privilege of wealth is to aid the meritorious who stand in need of assistance; and that industry, properly directed, does, even to the man whose necessities do not require such exertion, always bring with it an ample reward. "Health and length of days are in her right hand, and in her left riches and honour!"

The corner stone of this Commonwealth was laid in immutable justice; and the hands of her founders were never stained by the blood of an Indian. Our primitive annals, therefore, solicit, and will endure, the closest and most rigid scrutiny. The first settlers were plain in their habits, and simple in their manners. They laboured indefatigably with their own hands, and their lives were distinguished by pure morals, and unaffected piety. The blessing of Providence followed them; and their descendants have become a great people. But how long will this prosperity last, should their maxims of economy, simplicity, and temperance, continue to be utterly disregarded? Necessity, it is believed, is at the present time, teaching some of them with effect. William Penn, whose amiable and great qualities furnish an opulent subject, on which, if the narrowness of my page did not forbid, I should delight to dwell, was one of those bright luminaries which, at distant intervals, have cheered and irradiated a benighted world.

Thus lovely halcyons dive into the main,
Then show far off their shining plumes again.

In conclusion, permit me to relate an anecdote of the great lawgiver, which is traditional, it is true, but, at the same time, direct and authentic. Being on a visit at the house of one of his friends, who resided at Gwynedd, a Welch settlement, twenty miles from Philadelphia, he remained there during the night. When shown into his chamber, in which there was a considerable quantity of grain, apologies were made to him, and regrets expressed, that no better accommodations could be furnished, on such an occasion. With that urbanity and goodness of heart, for which he was so remarkable, he immediately put to rest every anxiety, which had previously existed, by a single observation: "I do not wish to see more appropriate furniture in a new settlement; nothing could give me more pleasure." It should not be forgotten, that Penn could number among his intimate friends, many of the English nobility and gentry; and had stood, with no infrequency, in the presence of princes, but still his humility and unassuming manners were unimpaired.

[FOR THE RURAL MAGAZINE.]
THE VILLAGE TEACHER.

How little can be known!
This is the wise man's sigh;—how far we err!
This is the good man's not unfrequent pang!
Wordsworth.

There is no faculty of the mind, of which man is more proud, than of REASON. It is this which most strikingly distinguishes him from the brute creation, to which he owes his empire over the elements, and by which he dares ever to explore the councils of the Deity. The triumphs of reason, however, have chiefly been in the fields of philosophy, and amidst the stillness of solitude, "in regions mild of calm and serene air." In the ordinary pursuits of life, her voice is drowned amidst the clamour of contending passions; and every successive generation of mankind, has to travel over the same course of inexperience and presumption, of error and misconduct, of remorse and repentance. The triumphs of reason in philosophy endure from age to age, and are not only glorious in themselves, but the means of acquiring new conquests. Those victories, which she obtains over the passions, are confined to the lives, and written in the experience, of individuals. The truths, which it required the utmost capacity of the human intellect to develope, are now familiar to the apprehension of every school-boy: but human nature continues to be as prone to evil, as selfish and untoward, as if the divine Author of our religion had never walked on earth. There is, in this view of the subject, much that may humble the most aspiring intellect. It shows, that the greatest genius affords no exemption from the ordinary weaknesses and vices of our nature, and that the mere force of reason cannot destroy the propensities which for ever drag us down to earth.

Even in those pursuits which are purely abstract, the different degrees of intellect approximate more nearly to each other than we commonly imagine. There are certain brilliant talents which we are apt to regard with a kind of superstitious feeling, and which we suppose to be gifted with an almost intuitive knowledge. Yet, the truth is, that those qualities which most easily attract the vulgar gaze, are fallacious and superficial. The highest and most lasting rewards of fame, have been earned by slow and patient labour; while the more dazzling career of genius has often terminated in disappointment and obscurity. He who trusts to the mere force and splendour of his talents, will find that they cannot sustain his flight, and that the most brilliant inventions of the human mind fade before the realities of nature; that there is no real glory in philosophy, separate from that of truth, and no key which will unlock her treasures, save that of patient investigation. There can be no discipline, better fitted to humble the pride and silence the vanity of man, than that of the inductive philosophy; for it teaches him that the only disposition of mind, in which he can acquire substantial knowledge, is that of docility to the voice of experience; and that patience and humility are far more valuable and efficient in a philosopher, than the brightest genius. When Newton commenced the researches that conducted him to an eminence, which no other mortal has attained, it was by careful and unprejudiced observation. He suffered no previous opinion to mislead his judgment, no weak ambition to disturb his mind; but watched, with untiring patience, for the illuminations of truth. It was, probably, to this careful exclusion of prejudice and vanity, as much as to any other cause, that he owed his wonderful achievements; for they must have been attained by regular advances, by steps which the meanest understanding is capable of following.

If these remarks are correct as regards philosophical, they are more strikingly so in relation to moral truth. The fabric of philosophy is the work of ages, and its dimensions are as capacious as those of nature; but the edifice of moral truth can be perfected in the sphere of action, and during the life of every individual. Its foundation is laid by the hand of the Creator in the heart of every intelligent being, and is spoken of in Scripture, as the rock on which the wise man built, and under the type of a light which has enlightened every man, of a word which is nigh us in our heart and in our mouth. This light may be darkened by superstition, distorted by prejudice, or buried beneath the cumbrous systems of a false philosophy; but can never be totally extinguished. He who would follow its illuminations, and become the votary of truth, must separate himself from these troubled elements of life. He must listen in quiet seclusion to her voice, and acquire, by humble and patient watchfulness, that habitual mastery over his mind, which is the groundwork, and the only foundation, of permanent excellence; and thus will he gradually come to know the truth as it is.

He who thinks to hear her still and small voice amidst the agitations of contending passions, will find himself deaf to its monitions. In our intercourse with the world, and our chase of its glittering phantoms, our interests and desires continually mislead us. We follow their guidance, rather than that of truth; we hurry down the stream of pleasure and business, and make our reason itself the slave of our appetites. There is something in the alternations of hope and fear, in the longings of ambition, and the first flushes of success, that engrosses and fills the mind. But when the zeal, with which we followed some object of unworthy ambition, is spent; when the violence of passion is exhausted, and satiety has succeeded to enjoyment, we sink down into the bitterness of self-reproach and remorse. We then perceive how fatally we have wandered from the path of reason, and determine, while our passions are spent and asleep, to chain them at her feet. Alas! they will awake, like the tiger from his lair, with the scent of blood in his nostrils, more furious and more powerful from every success.

These loose and general remarks may serve to illustrate the admirable economy of Providence. The truths, which it is important for us to know, are easily comprehended. Those qualities, by the possession of which the great end of our being is to be answered, are within the attainment of every rational creature. By a wonderful law of equality, the difference which appears to exist between different orders of intellect, is scarcely sensible in its effects upon the happiness and virtue of individuals. Brilliant talents, and rare accomplishments, do but expose their owner to more dangerous and subtle temptations, and too often furnish the weapon which destroys the peace of their possessor; while humbler virtues pass along, unconscious of these self-inflicted tortures. The latter pursue, from instinct and choice, that path of humble and quiet action, which the former will find, after all his wanderings, to be the only one that leads to peace, and is lighted by the pure and unwavering radiance of truth.

[FOR THE RURAL MAGAZINE.]
SEEDS.
From the Plough-Boy's Cottage.

This morning, as I awoke from my slumbers, these words came before me, "Take care what you sow!" The reflections they have awakened, amidst the wonderings such a salutation of the morning beam has excited; may not prove idle or merely speculative.

The husbandman, when he commits his seed to the earth, conscious of having done all within his power, rests in the goodness of Him who rules these lower elements, for the completion of the work. The white mantle of Nature is thrown over the germs of future sustenance, by the genial breath of Spring; "the early and the latter rains," and the vivifying heat of the sun, awaken those germs into beauty, clothe them with luxuriance, and ripen them for the sickle. But the husbandman well knows, that unless he be careful to select seed of the proper kind, and weight and purity, the product, he will reap, will deteriorate in its nature. However good the soil may be, his granary will receive a value proportioned only to his attention to the maxim—Take care what you sow.

But there are SEEDS, whose value is infinitely greater than wheat, or rye, or barley. Give me your ears, ye honest hearts of our rich farms, ye independent men of our beautiful vallies, and let me caution you to take care how you sow!

It is recorded, with great truth, that "books, men and things are lying constantly in wait to deceive souls, and bring them to perdition:" and books are here very correctly placed first on the list of deceivers. They are more dangerous, because less suspected; and the seeds, which are sown, by pernicious volumes, in the minds of the young and inexperienced, in the silence of solitude, take very deep root, and bring forth fruits of vice and corruption. O! how the spirit of genuine sensibility laments the widely spreading evils, which cast desolation over fields of beauty! Beware! ye noble-minded yeomen, how you admit into your little libraries, these insidious seducers, these tares, which grow amidst the tender plants which the Lord of the heritage has deposited in the soil he loves, and committed to your charge. It is in your power to aid the growth of the germs of goodness and piety, which may flourish under your fostering care, by the blessing of the great Husbandman, and make your children the glory of our country! Aim, therefore, at a judicious selection, that the seeds you sow may not want either weight or purity; and then "the early and the latter rain," which descend from above, will mature them into strength and loveliness.

This caution is also peculiarly applicable to those who have the direction of the numerous village libraries, that have latterly arisen in our favoured land. On these men, an awful responsibility rests. They have, in their hands, the future characters of the people, who may live in their respective neighbourhoods. They have, under their care, the destinies of an unborn race! The seeds, which are now sown in the hearts of the young, will, when they shall become parents, be transmitted to other soils. What an incalculable magnitude and importance invest this subject! Let them beware, therefore, as they shall answer at a high tribunal. "Take care,"—said a monitor to the celebrated statuary, Bacon, as he tapped him on the shoulder,—"remember, you are working for posterity!"—and the caution was reciprocated to the divine. Take care, says the Plough-Boy, to the directors of village libraries, what you sow!

Many a lovely damsel, whose rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes once indicated the sweetness and the purity of innocence, has had her heart tarnished, corrupted, ruined, by the insidious poison of books,—books read in secret, remote from the vigilant eye of a tender parent or kind friend. Into the recesses of the solitude of these; yes, even at the hour when the remainder of the family is reposing in peace, and when the rays of the midnight lamp are thrown on the idle, the romantic, or vicious page, let the warning voice of the Plough-Boy enter. May his accents thunder in their ears, Take care how you sow!

The vast increase of taverns, in our country and villages, calls us to beware of men, as well as of books. There is a great difference, my father tells me, between the simplicity of manners, which characterized the times when he was a boy, and the idleness and dissipation which have now spread over the country. Then it was considered a disgrace, to a young farmer, to be seen at a tavern, excepting when absolute necessity called him thither. Now, visit one of these seductive inns, in an afternoon, and we can see a band of hardy striplings, smoking their segars, drinking their cans of beer, or tossing off their glasses of "real Holland," and permitting their minds to be agitated by the evanescent politics of the day, while their families are either ignorant of their habits, or mourning over the tares, which the enemy is sowing in a fruitful field. Alas! even in his time, the Plough-Boy has witnessed the robust young husbandman, graced with an athletic form, adorned with vivid health and manly beauty, and blessed with a lovely wife and innocent prattlers, sink into an early grave, opened by Infamy and closed by Despair, solely in consequence,—first, of suffering his mind to be led aside from his business by the solicitations of idle men, and losing his precious time at the tavern; and then, of "just taking a social glass," which they have told him it would be unmanly to refuse.

Beware, my youthful companions, of these first, and apparently insignificant steps in idleness. No man suddenly becomes wicked. The power of habit is enlisted on the side of virtue, until its barrier be broken down by repeated small attacks; and he, who in former times could indignantly exclaim, "Is thy servant a dog, that he would do this thing?" yet committed the very evils at which an exalted spirit had shuddered with terror. Take care, ye young noblemen of Nature! how you sow.

Various other incitements are widely spread through our country, to lead men to sow seeds of vice and ignominy in their fields. It becomes not the Plough-Boy to enter too much into detail. The evils are abroad, and walking their desolating course; and he who can, in the hour of solitude, yield his mind to the dominion of reflection, will be at no loss to discover the peculiar inducements to idleness or dissoluteness, in his own vicinity. To all, therefore, who value the seeds of immortal beauty, let the warning voice of the Plough-Boy of the valley, reach with effect; and the gentle salutation of the morning ray, which visited his own spirit, may not have been sent without an instructive purpose. To all, this lesson is deeply interesting; for the happiness of the long, long ages of eternity, depends upon it. "Whatsoever a man shall sow, that will he reap. If ye sow to the flesh, ye shall reap corruption; but if to the spirit, the life which is eternal."

Downington, January 29, 1820.

[FOR THE RURAL MAGAZINE.]
"IS IT PEACE, JEHU?"

The evanescent sorrows of infancy have faded from the recollection, the flowery scenes of childhood are passed, the thraldom of pupilage is over, the fetters of minority are dissevered, and Youth steps boldly on the threshold of life, proud of the superiority, and conscious of the attributes of MAN.

"The world is all before him where to choose."

Society courts him to the enjoyment of rational and of sensual pleasure. The anticipation of evil finds no place in his imagination. All of friendship is faithful, and love pure as attractive. A short career in the busy round of existence, while it proves the fallacy of some of his crude conceptions, only affords a confirmation of others. If trusted friendship discover its instability, or cherished love its inconstancy, still Fancy promises, in other fountains, the unadulterated source of happiness. He looks not to the mind to supply the vacuum they have left. Youth is not the season for reflection. Fame has not yet animated the daring spirit of enterprise, and the social circle and the midnight revel display all their attractions. Lost in the whirl of inebriating delights, Reason maintains but a divided empire. But let her "still small voice" be heard in the intervals of passion, and will it not whisper to his heart, Is it peace?

The bowl has ceased to exhilarate; this species of excitement is happily relinquished, and, in the active scenes of business, he finds a stimulant to exertion and enjoyment. The acquisition of wealth will enable him to astonish the world with his magnificence; or, if a more worthy motive prevail, will furnish the means to relieve indigence, extricate virtuous misfortune from the fetters that chain it to the earth, and wipe the tear of want from the eye of the widow and the orphan. Glorious reward for days of toilsome industry. How soon may he find some more sordid spirit grasping the object that eludes his pursuit, and the anguish of disappointment displace the glowing visions of his fancy. While the strife of hopes and fears drive repose from his pillow, when the howling of the wind reminds him of the instability of that element on which he has adventured many a rich argosie, it would be mockery for him to ask of Care, Is it peace?

Fortune, however, while she laughed to scorn his dreams of princely splendour, has deigned to crown his days of anxiety with competence, and Philosophy bids him be content. He chooses a partner of his joys and sorrows, and sees a hopeful progeny around him. Once more Fancy spreads the glowing landscape of the future to his eye. Through those dear ones, whose infantine pleasures now amuse his paternal mind, he will attain the object of his hopes. His daughters shall wed with the first families that now tower above him; his sons—

"Visions of glory spare his aking sight;"—

he eagerly anticipates the moment of their matured existence, when he shall exultingly exclaim, in the fulness of his heart, after the detail of their unrivalled achievements, I AM THEIR FATHER. A few years roll away; the fiat of Omniscience is gone forth, and all, but one, of those that but now cheered his domestic board, are gathered into the garner of eternity. That one, the first—the last—remains his only comfort. On that loved one, he, and the beloved partner of his afflictions, bowed down with sorrow rather than with years, now place their only hopes. He will support their tottering footsteps; he sooth the sorrows and smooth the pillow of their waning age. Alas! the haunts of dissipation receive him; premature infirmities, racking pains, palsied limbs, hasten him, with rapid and unerring steps, to the grave—and all beyond it. It were in vain to ask of his agonized bosom,—agonized by the conviction of his fatal paternal indulgence,—Is it peace!

Is not the quiver of affliction exhausted? One shaft is left. That dear mourner, that has partaken so largely of the cup of his sorrows, cannot sustain the recollection

"That such things were, and were most dear to her."

Silent and uncomplaining, she bows before the storm. Her ashes rest with those of her children. Where is now that eager spirit, grasping at phantoms, and soaring into the regions of uncreated imagination. Hope is extinguished in his bosom; his soul is black with the very midnight of despair. Frail man! Didst thou ever ask, Of whom did I receive these precious gifts? Bow before the throne of Omnipotence; bless that Power who gave and who took away; pray to him for resignation; and, when the spirit of vital religion pours its holy influence into thy heart, thou needest not ask of thyself or the world, Is it peace?

[FOR THE RURAL MAGAZINE.]
Letters of a Citizen to his Friends in the Country.
No. III.

If the form of government with which we are blessed, is to be durable, it will depend upon the virtue and intelligence of the people. Ignorance and vice cannot sustain a republican system. It becomes, therefore, a duty of the highest order, to spread practical learning over every mind, and cultivate piety in every heart. To do this, the establishment of good schools, on the plan suggested in my last letter, is of great importance. But other means are also to be employed. Parents, guardians, and masters, should discharge their duty toward those who are entrusted to their care, by judicious advice and good example, for the conduct of life. The domestic circle ought to be regarded as a moral garden, under the especial care of the head of every family. Here he may plant good seed, and this he is bound to protect from all pernicious weeds. Let him therefore frequently examine the premises; he cannot be too assiduous, and vigilant. In this particular department, more is to be accomplished, than many are disposed to admit. And if ever our condition as a people is improved, in the degree to which it is susceptible, it will owe much to judicious family discipline. In the city, as well as in the country, we have been too relax in the performance of these manifest obligations. Private happiness and the public welfare are intimately connected with the minute government, and careful training, of the minds of youth.

Among other auxiliaries, I would take the liberty to recommend the establishment of libraries, to be composed of useful books. These might be located in the school-houses of each neighbourhood, and the teacher should be appointed to the care of the establishment. In the country, it is customary to assemble but once, in the day assigned, for social worship; in the afternoon of that day, the library might be opened for the delivery and reception of books. How much better would it be, to witness the people passing, in an orderly manner, to, and from the library of the vicinage, than assembling at taverns, or employed in idle and pernicious sports, on the evening of a day, set apart by Christian professors, for the worship, which is publicly due to the Sovereign of the world!

You may suppose, fellow citizens, that these suggestions are the offspring of a visionary brain; but the period is coming, with no tardy step, when sound morals and undefiled religion will be found to be the best estate. Men and governments prosper solely in proportion as they are regulated by principles which God approves. It is idle, in the last degree, to expect prosperity from any other source. All history, sacred and civil, teaches but one lesson; VICE AND IGNORANCE CONDUCT NATIONS TO THE TOMB!

This epistle is shorter than I had designed it to be; various avocations have claimed my attention. I have only to solicit your attention to the subjects submitted in it to your notice, and to assure you of my good will.

Civis.

[Treatise on Agriculture.]
SECT. II.
Of the actual state of Agriculture in Europe.

8. Holland, though essentially commercial has, from causes rarely occurring, become also highly agricultural. To the descendants of Dutchmen, the following description of her industry, in this respect, cannot but be acceptable. It is from the pen of an excellent judge and faithful narrator.[1]

[1] M. Yoarst, professor of agriculture at Elfort. See his introductory address to his class, in 1806.

"Their rotation of crops, always begins with the culture either of some leguminous plant or profitable root, and generally with the potato, as the best preparative of the ground. Whatever may be the grain which follows, whether wheat, rye, &c. &c. it is generally sown with red clover; and where it is not, the stubble is ploughed in immediately after harvest, and a crop of turnips taken and either consumed on the ground or housed for the winter. A single department (that of Zealand) obtains by the culture of madder alone, an annual profit of six millions of florins; while that of Brabant boasts its twenty thousand bee-hives; in a word, this commendable nation, upon an extent of surface not exceeding seventeen hundred square leagues, (the greater part of which has been redeemed from the ocean) counts two hundred and forty-three thousand horses, seven hundred and sixty thousand horn cattle, about a million of sheep, from ten to twelve thousand goats, four hundred and eighty-nine thousand hogs, and about three millions of poultry, of every species. Their stock of manure is necessarily great, and is both well understood and well managed."

9. The same causes, physical and moral, operate against the existence of a productive agriculture in Denmark and Sweden—severity of climate, poverty of soil, and vassalage of tenants.[2]—Their resources are also alike, and exist principally in manufactures and commerce, and in mines, forests and fisheries. The former boasts fine pasturage and cattle, in Holstein.

[2] To give to despotism the air of freedom, the serfs of the crown were liberated at the revolution—but the example was neither approved nor followed.

10. Under the common name of Germany, we include Prussia, Saxony, Austria, Wurtemburg, and Bavaria, and shall say a few words of each, calculated to give a general idea of their husbandry. It was not to be expected that the great Frederick of Prussia (so devoted to national glory and strength) would disregard the interest of agriculture; and the less so, as in theory he considered it "Les mamelles de l'elat." We accordingly find him employed in draining marshes of great extent,[3] in filling them with industrious colonists, and in converting barren sands into fertile fields, by placing his capital in the midst of them. But amongst these good works, he forgot that the hands of the labourer, to be efficient, must be free; he found the peasants slaves, and left them such.

[3] In the Dollart what was lost by the sea was regained, and the marshes on the Netz and the Warth at Friedburg and in Pomerania were drained, and the country rendered habitable.

The Saxon peasant, on the other hand is free and protected by the law; he holds his farm on lease, which he sells or transmits to his children at will: and this is the principal cause of the flourishing state of Saxon agriculture. In Lusatia, a different legislation produces different effects; but for some years past, the government and great proprietors have concurred in changing the vassalage of the peasants into a mild and salutary dependence. Saxony is remarkable for its grain products, and Lusatia for its stock—the latter counts four hundred thousand head of sheep of the merino race.

Geographers give to Austria and her dependencies 1965 leagues in circumference. In a surface like this, there is necessarily a great variety, as well of climate as of soil; but in general, both are favourable to agriculture. "In the districts of the Inn, of Lower Stira, of Istria, and of Carniola, the land is of good quality, well cultivated and very productive. In the last, they have two crops in the year; sowing buck-wheat on wheat or rye stubble, and millet on that of hemp and flax.—They every where cultivate Indian corn, and in Styria (as in Virginia) it forms the ordinary bread of the country." In Bohemia, Moravia, and Galitia,[4] the soil is uncommonly rich, and under proper management would be very productive. Austrian Silesia is less fitted for the production of grain, but excels in forage and cattle. Hungary, Transylvania and Croatia, abound in every species of agricultural produce. Their flocks and pasturage are not inferior to those of the Ukraine; and wheat, buck-wheat, Indian corn, millet, rice, hemp, flax and tobacco, yield immense harvests to very small degrees of labour. Yet is agriculture far from being in a flourishing condition!—Writers on political economy ascribe this fact principally to two causes—

[4] Geographic Math.

1st. The degradation and oppression of the labouring part of the community; and

2d. The want of convenient commercial outlets for the produce of the soil.

We shall find in Hungary a striking illustration of the correctness of this opinion. "The Populus Hungaricus," is divided into four estates, the magnates, the nobles, and the clergy, who possess all the lands, and the "misera contribuens plebs," who (besides tithes, rents and corvees) pay all the taxes. This wretched populace is composed of the burghers and the peasantry, of which there are three kinds—slaves for life, temporary slaves, and a third sort called liberæ emigrationis, who, as their name indicates, have loco motive powers and rights. Of the condition of this people, since the year 1764, (and before that period it was much worse) we may form an idea from the edict of Maria Theresa, called the urbarium, or law of contracts between landlord and tenant, by which it is declared, that corporal punishment (inflicted by the master for insolent words or conduct) shall not exceed twenty-four strokes with a cane for a man, and the same number with a switch for a woman. Nor is the commercial condition of this people better than the civil; they are not only obliged to take from Austria many things which they could have had in other places of a better quality and at a lower price, but they are also compelled to carry to Vienna the products of their own soil and labour, where their sale is embarrassed and their value lessened by heavy and oppressive taxes. The same remark applies to Galitia, whose natural outlet is the Vistula, or the Nieper; but of these she is not permitted to avail herself, and, like her sister kingdoms, is compelled to seek the markets furnished by the Danube and Trieste. "The consequences are obvious—the tenant works only to satisfy hunger, and the landlord is satisfied with little more than 'victum et vestitum.'"[5]

[5] Geog. Math. vol. 4. art. Hungary.

The amount of lands annually cultivated in Bavaria, is one million one hundred and sixty-five thousand acres, which produce about six millions of bushels of grain, of which two millions are surplus. The Palatinate, (one of the dependencies of Bavaria) is also very productive. The route between Heidelberg and D'Armstadt, called the Bergstrass, traverses one of the finest districts of Germany, and perhaps of Europe; where are seen extensive vineyards, vast meadows and fertile fields, producing wheat, barley, tobacco, madder, rhubarb, turnips, &c. &c. In the year 1799, all the electorial possessions within the circle of Bavaria, contained 199,000 horses, 160,000 oxen, 465,000 cows, 961,000 sheep, 320,000 hogs, and 378,000 goats. Yet are the Bavarians, compared with the inhabitants of the north of Germany, half a century in the rear. The people are, extremely ignorant and fantastical: like the people of Rome and Lisbon, they sacrifice much time to processions and fetes, and like them also are slaves of the vilest appetites. Debauchery is no where more flagrant than in Munich.[6]

[6] Geog. Math. &c. art. Bavaria. Compare the productiveness of Bavaria with England—the comparison is in favour of the former.

Wurtemburg is ranked among the most fertile and well cultivated countries of Germany. The mountainous parts produce potatoes, oats, hemp and flax; the less hilly abound in wheat, spelts, rye, buck-wheat, Indian corn and barley; and in the vallies we find tobacco, madder and vineyards, in which the grapes of France, Cyprus, and Persia succeed perfectly. Apples, pears, &c. are of common product and excellent quality.[7]

[7] Idem.

11. It has been justly remarked, that to know the state of husbandry in any country, you have but to examine the instruments employed, the succession of crops, and the condition of labourers.—Tried by these tests, the agriculture of Russia will be found to be in a state of great degradation.—The plough (called soka) which is commonly used, is very light, of simple construction, and but calculated to enter the ground one inch and a half; the harrow consists of one or more young pine trees (whose branches are cut off about eight inches from the stem) steeped in water to add to their weight, and tied together. With such miserable instruments, each drawn by a single horse, the farmer scratches the ground, and without always covering the seed, which is no doubt the reason that in dry seasons their harvests are very bad.[8] In the best soil their succession of crops is of eight years—two in barley, two in oats, two in winter rye, and two in spring rye. Lands of less fertility are sown two years out of three, and mountainous tracts one year in three, when they are abandoned to weeds, until rest shall have reinstated them. "To manure them would, in the opinion of a Russian peasant, make them poorer;[9] and therefore he suffers his dunghill to accumulate into a nuisance, while he goes on to clear and exhaust new fields." "The grains raised are rye, spelts, barley, millet and oats, which, from want of sufficient roads and markets, are often low priced; as are horned cattle and horses: an ox selling for a ruble and a half, a cow for one ruble, and a horse for three rubles."[10] To this wretchedness we must add, (what perhaps occasions much of it) that throughout the civilized part of Russia, the labours of agriculture are performed by slaves confounded with the soil, and bought and sold with it. In a great portion of the northern section of this vast empire, agriculture is unknown; and the chase, the fisheries, cattle and rein-deer, furnish the only means of subsistence.

[8] Pallas, pages 3 and 4. vol. 1.

[9] Pallas, vol. 5. page 60.

[10] A ruble is equal to 5 livres, or 1 dollar Spanish.

(To be continued.)

[Mr. Nicholson's Prize Essay.]
On a Rotation of Crops, and the most profitable mode of collecting, preserving and applying Manures.

(Communicated to the Albany County Agricultural Society.)

[CONCLUDED.]

Of manures which may be termed fossils we will mention the various kinds of calcareous substances, the stony matter called pyrites, coal, salt, peaty substances, silicious and aluminous earths. Limestone, gypsum, chalk and marle, are the calcareous substances we shall notice, and each in their order.

Limestone, (carbonate of lime,) has always more or less aluminous or silicious earth in its composition. Frequently also it contains magnesia. Limestone of this latter description, when calcined, makes what the English farmers call hot lime, which is more powerful in its effects, and therefore less of it should be applied at once to the soil. That without any mixture of magnesia is considered more durable in its operation, but less powerful. Magnesian limestone is known by its effervescing but little when plunged in nitric or other acid, while limestone that is not magnesian, when thus immersed produces a strong effervescence. The magnesian, also, when immersed in diluted nitric acid, or aqua fortis, renders the liquid of a milky appearance. It is usually of a brownish or pale yellow colour. Being more caustic when calcined, than common limestone, it is more efficacious in decomposing peaty earths, and is best adapted for soils which have too much either of peaty or vegetable matter in them.——Where lands have been injured by too plentiful an application of this lime, peaty earth should be applied to them to correct the evil.

The trials of lime in this country have been quite limited, and confined mostly to the middle states, particularly Pennsylvania. It has usually been applied there at the rate of about forty bushels to the acre; but whether the lime used there is magnesian, we have never understood. Lime may be applied as a top dressing or mixed with the soil. Its application has been found most successful when the first succeeding crop was Indian corn; afterwards wheat is grown to advantage. Instances are mentioned in the memoirs of the agricultural society of Philadelphia, where gypsum had no effect on worn out lands till they were first manured with lime.

British writers say that lime may be applied with equal advantage either when newly slaked or afterwards, that its effects are not always the same particularly where soils are different, but that usually it is a very durable manure. A much larger quantity is, however, applied in Great Britain than has been usual here; but perhaps the coolness of the summers there renders more requisite. We pretend to advise to no particular rules in the application of lime in this country, farther than that about forty bushels to the acre be first tried; but less for sandy soils, and perhaps more for those which are stiff clays would be advisable. In clays of this description, lime is particularly useful in destroying the adhesive quality of such soils, and thereby rendering them a more friable loam. Such has been its effects on the clay lands which abound so much in England. Where the lime is magnesian, let trials be made of about twenty bushels to the acre.

That country abounds much in the calcareous matter denominated chalk, which is also converted into lime by calcination, and used as a manure. It forms a weaker sort of lime. As this substance, however, is hardly to be found in this country, it will be unnecessary further to speak of this manure.

Gypsum, (sulphate of lime) is a most powerful stimulant to the growth of many crops in all dry soils in this country, but with the following exceptions: it has no sensible effect on lands newly cleared, on those in the vicinity of the ocean, nor on those which have been completely exhausted by severe cropping. In soils of this latter description, some pabulous matter must be given them for the gypsum to digest or act upon; and this may be a previous manuring with lime, marl, bog-earth, barn dung, or perhaps any substance that is calculated to improve the condition of the soil. It should also be observed that the application of gypsum frequently fails entirely of producing its effects if followed by uncommon drought, or unusually wet weather. It is generally most powerful when applied to growths of leguminous plants, to those extending in vines, such as the various species of the gourd tribe, the strawberry, &c. and to several sorts of the green crops, particularly potatoes, clover-grasses, lucern, &c. On fibrous rooted grasses, and those grain plants most nearly related to them, such as wheat, rye, oats, barley, &c. it has no sensible effect when applied as a top dressing to the growing plants. On Buckwheat it is very powerful, and for Indian corn it is also valuable. Judge Peters, (of Penn.) whose experience of its uses has been long and extensive, says that although he has found this manure of little use to many sorts of plants, when applied to them as a top dressing, yet he has invariably found that all plants derive benefit from their seeds being rolled in gypsum, after being soaked in some liquid, before sowing or planting. As a manure, however, for wheat or grain crops of similar kinds, immense benefit may be derived from it by applying it to the sward, as a top dressing, a suitable length of time before the ground is broken up. In this way two bushels of gypsum may be made to give an additional increase of eight or ten bushels of wheat to the acre. Take, for instance, land which in its natural state, and with the usual culture, will only yield ten bushels of wheat to the acre; in the fall or early in the spring, give it a top dressing of two bushels of gypsum to the acre; by the middle of June following, the land will exhibit a fresh green sward, principally of white clover; and when land is thus clothed in verdure, it is a sure indication of a great addition to its fertility, and that a good crop may then be expected. When, therefore, the green sward is thus formed, turn it under, and then, with the usual culture, twenty bushels of wheat to the acre may be expected, where only ten would have been had without this previous enriching of the ground by the application of gypsum. Yet the same quantity of this manure, applied as a top dressing to the growing crop of wheat, would have had no sensible effect. It should therefore be understood, that for all growths which derive little or no benefit from gypsum, when applied as a top dressing to the growing plants, the ground should be previously enriched by applying this manure to the sward, a suitable length of time before it is to be broken up, which length of time will usually be from two to three months. At all events as soon as the sward fully exhibits the effects of the gypsum it may then be turned under. Wherever a sward is to be turned under, this practice should be invariably pursued in order that the ground be rendered more fruitful for the crop that is to follow.

In this country gypsum is a great source of wealth, wherever soils are sensible to its effects. It has tended much to equalize the value of lands, by imparting an artificial fertility to those naturally more sterile, and that at a small expense.—But gypsum alone is by no means a sufficient source of dependence as a manure for keeping lands in the improved condition that is necessary for raising the best crops, and of course deriving the greatest profits. The farmer should attend also to making the most of such other manures as come conveniently within his reach. We are, however, no advocate for obtaining manures at any price; they may cost too much; but almost every farmer whose lands are of suitable quality, and who stocks them with as many cattle as he can keep in good order, and then makes the best use of the manure they afford, may usually, with this supply, and with the judicious use of gypsum, added to good culture, keep his lands in an improving condition.

But some soils are so constituted as to be of diminished value without a suitable mixture of other earths than those of which they are composed, and in such case are permanently benefited by such additions of earthy substances. If lands, for instance, are too sandy, or gravelly, the addition of clay to them, or what is better, of upland marle, will permanently improve the soil; and where these earths can be found within reasonable distance it will usually be labour well expended in making such applications. We will state a case in point. In the rear of the city of Albany lies an immense body of calcarious earth, which may properly be called a schistic marle. It is commonly called blue clay. This, when mixed with a due proportion of sand, forms a very fertile and durable soil. Farther west of the city lie large tracts of sandy lands, which require suitable proportions of this marle to render them fit for good culture, and with such additions much of them would be found very valuable. Where they lie sufficiently level, and are not too sandy, it will probably be found that from half a ton to a ton for every rod square would be sufficient to render them very fertile, and fitted for the most profitable rotations of crops.

This sort of marle, which may be found in various parts of the country, and very frequently under tracts of sandy lands, is a very valuable and permanent manure in all dry soils which are deficient of calcarious matter, and have not already too great a proportion of clay in their composition. This manure should be laid on the land as a top dressing, in order that it may be completely pulverized before it is mixed with the soil.

Upland marle is sometimes found of silicious texture, in which case it is good for stiff soils, as well as for others. It is also found of different colours, when combined with argillaceous matter, and of different qualities; that containing most lime or calcarious matter being always the best. Marles of this description are often very valuable in forming a principal ingredient in composts, of which we shall presently speak, and the same may be observed of the superior sorts of this manure found in bog swamps, of which something shall now be said.

This sort of marle is found, at greater or less depths, beneath the surface of many bog swamps, and is of a whitish, a greyish, or a brownish colour. The whitish is the most powerful, having most lime in its composition; the greyish is next in quality. The super stratum is either a bog earth, to wit, vegetable matter totally decomposed; or it is a peaty substance, or vegetable matter in a partial state of decomposition. The bog earth is good manure of itself, and may be used separately, or mixed with the marle; the peaty substance must undergo a further decomposition before it is rendered valuable as a manure, it being then rendered similar to bog earth. These manures when applied to growing crops are somewhat similar in their effects to those of gypsum. They are valuable as top dressings, or for mixing with the soil. Their effects are very powerful on Indian corn, and they are more or less valuable when applied to almost every sort of upland crop, with the exception of wheat, rye, barley, &c. For these they are to be applied to the sward, a suitable time before breaking it up, as has been mentioned in regard to gypsum. It should, however, be observed, that neither decomposed peat, nor bog earth, should be applied to soils which already contain too great a proportion of decomposed vegetable matter.

The condition of clay soils is also permanently improved by mixing a due proportion of sand in them. The most durable and perfect soil is chiefly composed of certain proportions of sand, clay, lime, and vegetable matter in a state of decomposition, and, whenever any soil is destitute of a due proportion of any of these, the addition of such earthy substance can never fail to serve as a manure.

The stony earth called Pyrites, when pulverised by the aid of a proper degree of calcination, is much used; and highly esteemed in Flanders as a top dressing for grass lands, as is mentioned in a communication of the late Chancellor Livingston to the Society for the promotion of the useful arts in this state. We will refer the reader to the 2d vol. published by that Society for the manner of preparing this manure, and the quantity to be used, &c.

Of coal, we shall merely state that, from the results of experiments made by the late Mr. Muhlenburg, (of Penn.) about 40 bushels to the acre of this substance, pulverised in the manner of gypsum, was found a good manure, when applied as a top dressing.

Common salt, pulverised, and applied as a top dressing, at the rate of from two to four bushels to the acre, has, in many instances, powerful effects as a manure. Sea-water is peculiarly adapted for this purpose. Mr. Deane, in his Farmer's Dictionary, mentions an instance where a crop of potatoes, and another of flax, were greatly increased in product by an application of sea-water to them while growing. About a pint of the water was applied to each hill of potatoes, and for the flax crop the water was sprinkled over the ground.

Some trials have been made in this country of using burnt clay as a manure, and its use is recommended, particularly for all dry arable lands, not inclining to clay. The first step in preparation for burning clay, is to have a considerable quantity of this earth dug up in spits, and laid to dry in the sun: when pretty well dried you prepare for burning by raising a little pile of dry wood in the shape of a pyramid, say 4 or 5 feet high;—round this you build up the dried spits of clay, leaving a hole at the bottom, for the entrance of the air, and another at the top for it to pass off. Such, at least, was the method formerly practised in Great Britain, but the modern improvement of retaining the smoke within the mass, agreeably to the plan spoken of by Mr. Cobbett, for burning earth, ought also to be pursued in burning clay. After the fire has been set to the wood you continue digging up fresh clay and piling it around and over the heap, as fast as the fire penetrates the mass, taking care, however, not to pile on so much at once as to extinguish the fire. If there be danger of its becoming extinguished, it may be advisable to make one or more holes in the sides of the heap by running a hole into it. The fresh earth is to be added during pleasure or until a sufficient quantity is burned. After the heap has cooled it is fit for use, either by mixing with the soil as directed by Mr. Cobbett, for applying burnt earth, of which we will next speak.

By a late improvement, earths, other than those of clay, are successfully converted into good manure, by the process of burning. It is effected by retaining the smoke within the mass of earth while in a state of ignition. Mr. Cobbett says he has tried this manure for the ruta-baga crop, and found it as efficacious as barn dung. His manner of preparing it, and which we believe would also be the best method of preparing burnt clay, is as follows:

"I make a circle," says Mr. C. "or an oblong square. I cut sods and build a wall all round three feet thick, and four feet high. I then light a fire in the middle with straw, dry sticks, boughs, or such like matter. I go on making this fire larger and larger, till it extend over the whole bottom of the pit or kiln. I put on roots of trees or any rubbish wood, till there be a good thickness of strong coals. I then put on the driest of the clods that I have ploughed up round about, so as to cover all the fire over. The earth thus put in will burn. You will see the smoke coming out at little places here and there. Put more clods wherever the smoke appears. Keep on thus for a day or two. By this time a great mass of fire will be in the inside. And now you may dig out the clay, or earth, any where round the kiln, and fling it on without ceremony, always taking care to keep in the smoke; for, if you suffer that to continue coming out at any one place, a hole will soon be made; the main force of the fire will draw to that hole; a blaze like that of a volcano, will come out, and the fire will be extinguished.

"A very good way is to put your finger into the top of the heap here and there; and if you find the fire very near, throw on more earth.—Not too much at a time, for that weighs too heavily on the fire, and keeps it back; and, at first will put it partially out. You keep on thus augmenting the kiln, till you get to the top of the walls, and then you may, if you like, raise the walls and still go on. No rain will affect the fire, when once it is become strong.

"The principle is to keep out air, whether at the top or the sides, and this you are sure to do, if you keep in the smoke. I burnt, this last summer, about thirty wagon loads in one round kiln, and never saw the smoke at all after the first four days. I put in my finger to try whether the fire was near the top; and when I found it approaching, I put on more earth. Never was a kiln more completely burnt.

"Now, this may be done on the skirt of any wood where the matters are all at hand. This mode is far preferable to the above ground burning in heaps. Because in the next place, the smoke escapes there, which is the finest part of the burnt matter. Soot, we know well, is more powerful than ashes, and, soot is composed of the grossest parts of the smoke. That which flies out of the chimney is the best part of all.

"In case of a want of wood wherewith to begin the fire, the fire may be lighted precisely as in the case of paring and burning. If the kiln be large, the oblong square is the best figure.—About ten feet wide, because then a man can fling the earth easily over every part. The mode they pursue in England when there is no wood, is to make a sort of building in the kiln with turfs and leave air holes at the corners of the walls, till the fire be well begun. But this is tedious work; and is in this country wholly unnecessary. Care must, however, be taken, that the fire be well lighted. The matter put in at first should be such as is of the lightest description; so that a body of earth on fire may be obtained, before it be too heavily loaded.

"The burning being completed, having got the quantity you want, let the kiln remain. The fire will continue to work, until all is ashes. If you want use the ashes sooner, open the kiln. They will be cold enough to remove in a week."

A practice has long prevailed in Europe of paring and burning soils for the purpose of improving their texture and increasing their fertility. On clay lands, and such as contain too much vegetable matter, we conceive the process might be advisable if not too expensive. Its effect on clays is to destroy the adhesive quality of the soil, as the earth burned becomes rather of a silicious texture; and at the same time the surface is much enriched by the operation. In the other case it is calculated to reduce the redundancy of vegetable matter, as well as to enrich the soil. The operation is performed in the following manner:

When the ground is in a good sward of grass let it be carefully turned over with the plough, the irons of which should be well sharpened. Let the plough run about three inches deep.—Then cross plough with a very sharp coulter, and the sward will all be cut into squares of about 10 or 12 inches. You then proceed to set these square chunks up edgeways, by leaning two together, in which situation they will soon dry.—When well dried build a part of them tip in the form of little ovens, and let this be done at the distance of about every 18 feet each way. These are all to have a little opening or door, at a common windward side, for the air to enter, and another opening above for the smoke to pass off. On some dry day when the wind is fair for blowing into the holes below place some straw or other dry rubbish into the holes and set fire to it. As soon as the fires have got fully going in each of the heaps, let the holes in the tops be stopped up, for the purpose of retaining the smoke, and keep gradually building up the heaps as the fire penetrates them, until all the chunks of earth are piled up round them; and when the heaps have fully burned and sufficiently cooled, they are to be evenly spread over the ground, and ploughed in.

In some parts of Great Britain it has been the practice to burn peat earth, in a manner very similar to that before described for burning clay, and the ashes thus obtained from the mass were used for top dressings; but we believe this practice has mostly given way to that of rotting or decomposing peat in compost, the method of which is as follows: you form the compost heap of about one half of peat, a fourth of lime, and a fourth of barn dung, and these substances are to be separately laid along in a manner most convenient to be afterwards thrown into the compost heap in their proper proportions. You commence at one end with spreading a layer of peat on the ground, say, ten feet square and four inches in depth; then a layer of lime on this and another of barn dung, each two inches thick; then another layer of peat, as before, and then the lime and barn dung, as before, until in this way the heap is raised about four feet high, and let the last layer be of peat: then commence another ten feet square along side of this, and raise it as before, till you raise it to the same height; then with another ten feet square, at the end of this mass, and so on, till the heap is completed. After the heap has stood a while, it will heat, and when the heat begins to subside, you commence again at one end of the heap and cut the whole down to the bottom, with the spade, and form a new heap, throwing the exterior parts of the heap, thus cut down, into the middle of the other. A second heating of the mass will then commence, and when that subsides, the peat will be found sufficiently decomposed, and the whole an excellent mass of manure.

In this country peaty substances are usually to be found in morasses; as the superstratum of marle, as before-mentioned; as the principal ingredient of the salt marshes contiguous to the ocean, and as the superstratum of tracts of cold lands which are covered with growths of evergreen trees.

In making composts with upland marle, before-mentioned, the proportions of the marle, with that of the lime and dung, may be similar to those just mentioned for the peat composts, or perhaps the marle may be in greater proportion. The layers of each may be as before described, but the heap only raised to such height that it may be cleft down to the bottom with the plough, then thrown together in a ridge again with this implement; and let these operations be repeated, at intervals, till the whole becomes well mixed, pulverised, and in a state of fermentation, when it is fit for use, and should be immediately applied to the soil in the manner before-mentioned.

The use of wood ashes as a manure, is well known. It is good for almost all crops, and is to be used as a top dressing. It is much more efficacious as a manure in some parts of the country than others, particularly on Long Island. It is most valuable on light dry soils, particularly those which are sandy. Soot, as a top dressing, is much more valuable than ashes, and is proper for almost all arable lands. It is most efficacious when well pulverised before its application.

The dung of fowls of every sort has much calcareous matter in it, and is very efficacious, applied as top dressings. Malt dust is good in the same way—40 bushels of it is a proper allowance to the acre.

Night shade should be mixed with earth, say, two thirds of the latter to one of the former, and in the course of a few months it forms an excellent manure. In most European cities this excrement is carefully collected, for manure, while in this country its use has been neglected.

Many liquids are furnished from every domicile, and particularly the kitchen, which, mixed with earths, and other substances, would form valuable masses of manure. The liquids to which we principally refer, are the soap-suds, dish-water, brine of meat, urine, &c.; these should all be preserved, by being absorbed in rich earthy substances, together with the contents of the hog-sty; and in this way a large heap of good manure may be made that is commonly lost for want of attention in saving these ingredients.

[FROM THE RECORD.]
Agricultural Education.

No cause has more retarded the progress of education in the agricultural part of the community than a mistaken opinion, in regard to the use that can be made of it.—That the advantages of learning, in every state of society, should not be appreciated by the grossly ignorant, is not to be wondered at; but that men well informed on many subjects, should fall into the vulgar error of denying the advantages arising from extensive knowledge is really surprising.

We hear it frequently observed by farmers, who have sons to educate, that they intend such a one to follow his own occupation; and it will be necessary that he should be taught to read, write, and cypher to the "Rule of Three." Now it is believed with these extensive acquirements, a farmer will be able to keep his accounts tolerably decent; to estimate the amount of any number of bushels of grain, at a given sum per bushel: but I shall forbear to mention all the advantages which this kind of knowledge may confer. The intelligent farmer well knows it has a boundary, and a very limited one too. To endeavour by force of reason to induce this class of farmers to abandon their errors, would be time spent to little purpose; their minds are not recipient for truths which lie beyond the narrow boundary of their learning.

It is to the enlightened and public spirited yeomanry of our country, that we are to look for a change in the education of our youth.—Change, did I say? Rather an entire new system of education. I ask this class of farmers if they have any such a thing as an agricultural education among them. I mean an elementary, a systematic one: we train our youth (at school) for the counting-house, and not for the farm. We teach them the mysteries of the cent per cent; all the dark intricacies of annuities, all the crooks and turns, and all the advantages of barter, discount and fellowship. While of Natural Philosophy, Chemistry, Botany, Mineralogy, Geology and other sciences, directly or indirectly connected with agriculture, they remain as ignorant as if they never were to apply any of the principles to practice. Can it then be wondered that agriculture has advanced so little? Ought we not rather to wonder that it has advanced so much as it has, since so little pains are taken to qualify our youth to make improvement in it? As an art it is perhaps more capable of improvement than any other, because the sciences on which it is founded, are more numerous and more extensive in their nature.

By whom are improvements to be made? by men whose knowledge of the art has never deviated from the beaten track which their forefathers had trodden, and this knowledge was bequeathed to them with this condition, "thus far shalt thou go and no farther?" Common sense answers in the negative. Do we expect important improvements in our present systems of agriculture, from men who have been educated merchants or schoolmasters? Their minds cannot be sufficiently interested in such subjects to pursue them either with ardour or with profit. They have never acquired a taste for those studies which would render the different operations of farming a series of philosophical experiments.

In too many instances, farmers' sons, who have been educated as above described, lose all relish for their occupation, and engage in some mercantile business. In many instances they contrive to worry through life without deserting their calling, though they receive little pleasure from any part of it, except counting the money which it yields. The source from which we have received our new systems of farming lay in quite a different quarter. Inhabitants of cities, or men who have been educated for some learned profession, are our teachers in the rules of husbandry. We will suppose these men to be well versed in the sciences above alluded to. But have they ever learned their application to agriculture? If not, as well might they adduce principles on that subject, as a person to attempt solving an abstruse problem in surveying, who has only learned the elements of geometry. When I spoke of an agricultural education, I did not confine my views to the sciences above specified. Practice is an indispensable part of this education. The chemist may sit in his laboratory and give us a system of agriculture, stolen from European treatises, and may occasionally sprinkle it with some hard words of his own; but it is only the practical and scientific farmer that can draw from this heterogenous mass, all that is valuable and applicable to his own purpose, and nothing more. The principles he receives from books must be tested by experiment. To make important deductions from these experiments, unwearied patience must be exercised, in order to sift real conclusions from those which are only plausible. Let him not sit down supinely, after having ascertained a rule, for general rules in this science as in most others have their exceptions, and an accurate knowledge of these exceptions will require much time for discernment, and investigation. If agriculture, then, is an art of calling forth all the faculties of the mind, why is it not taught like other arts by a regular and systematic education?

Agricola.

[FROM THE NATIONAL INTELLIGENCER.]
On the Grape Vine, with its wines, brandies, salt, and dried fruits.
No. II.

The object of these papers is to excite to objects of agriculture, manufacture, commerce, and consumption of the utmost importance to the prosperity of our country. The forms and niceties of literary composition will yield their claim to attention to the more solid substance of the pertinent information and suggestions.

In the course of the consideration of this subject, several letters from living friends to our prosperity have been brought together. The remainder of this paper will be appropriated to the publication of one of those letters, of very recent date, from a native of the United States, of the best opportunities, in Bordeaux, the emporium of that part of the kingdom of France which gives to us the largest quantities of the most esteemed wines and brandies which enter into our regular consumption. It here follows, in its own clear and instructive terms.

"I have been favoured by your letter of the 24th. Chaptal, sur la Culture de Vine, l'Abbe Rozier's memoire sur le mellieure maniere de faire et gouverner les Vins, and Jullien's Topographie de tout les Vignobles, are the authors the most in repute in France on the vine and on wine. The first and last can be had in Philadelphia; and if Rozier's memoir is not to be found, as it is an old book, you can doubtless find at your French book stores, his Dictionary of Agriculture, 5 vols. in 4to. which, under the head of Vine, will give you all the information you desire.

"The district which produces the best wine, about Bordeaux, is Medoc. That county is divided into upper and lower Medoc, lying between the Gironde and Garonne and the Bay of Biscay. It is much such a country, as to hill and dale, or general surface, as that between Philadelphia and Trenton, of a sandy, sandy-loam, and gravelly soil, with some few exceptions of small patches. About seven leagues from north to south, and three from east to west, of this district, is occupied with vineyards, which produce the best wine, whose expositions are from east to south.

"In this district, Lafitte, Chateau Margaux, Latour, Leoville, La Rose, Braune Mouton, and St. Julien, with various other qualities of Claret, are produced, which bring from $60 dollars the ton, of 4 hogsheads, (or 252 gallons,) to $600, according to the estimation they are held in. The vines in this district are not suffered to grow above three feet from the ground.

"Hautbriant is produced on a single estate of that name, lying in La Grave, about a league south of Bordeaux. The soil is sandy and gravelly; so much so that you would hardly suppose it capable of vegetation.

"The districts which produce Sauterne, Barsac, and Grave wines, lie from the skirts of the city south about four leagues, presenting much the same swell of surface as that part of New Jersey through which the mail runs between Trenton and Brunswick. The name of this district, (or, more properly speaking, the northern part of it,) Grave, denotes its soil Gravier—Gravel. I have seen hundreds of acres of vines in Grave, growing in pebbles, from the size of a bean and nutmeg to that of an egg, without the least vestige of earth, cracking under foot, and filling one's shoes. Of the white wines of Bordeaux, Sauterne, Barsac, and Corbonnieux are of the first quality; but there are many other growths which vie with them, and the ordinary qualities of these white wines are various. I have purchased good pleasant white wine at six dollars the cask of sixty-three gallons. The quantities sent to this country cost from $12 the cask to $40. Of the other wines you mention, I have no knowledge.

"It has been stated that two millions of acres are taken up in the cultivation of the vine, in France, producing, one year with another, five hogsheads of sixty-three gallons to the acre; which, at the moderate price of fifty francs, or ten dollars, the hogshead, gives one hundred millions of dollars. This produce is immense; and, what renders it still more valuable is, that it does not lessen the quantity of other necessary productions, such as wheat, &c.; for where the vine generally grows in France, nothing else will grow: such is the poverty of the soil generally employed for vines.

"They have the wild vine in France. I have seen large quantities of it near Bayonne, and round the foot of the Pyrenees, up to Pau: the inhabitants make beautiful hedges of it, and I have been assured by a distinguished naturalist, Mr. Pennieres, who is now in the Alabama territory, that some of the excellent grapes of France have been produced from the wild vine, after some years of careful cultivation. He is now engaged in inoculating our wild vines with those of France, from which he expects the most favourable results.

"I shall conclude these hasty observations by an extract from Rozier:

"'The vine is a plant whose transpiration and suction is abundant and vehement, which sufficiently indicates the soil and exposition natural to it. For this reason, grounds, composed of sand, gravel stones, and rotten rocks, are excellent for its cultivation.

"'A sandy soil produces a fine pure wine. The gravelly and stony a delicate wine. Rotten and broken rocks a fumy generous wine, of a superior quality.

"'A rich, strong, compact, cold or humid soil, which is pressed down by the rains, and which the sun hardens or bakes, is essentially prejudicial to the quality of the wine.

"'The most advantageous exposition for the vine is that of a gentle slope, or side of a hill, facing east and south, on which the rays of the sun continue the longest time.

"'Hills, in the neighbourhood of the ocean and rivers, ought to be preferred to all others.' The lower parts of these hills are not so favourable to the vine as the upper, and neither are equal to the middle region, the soil being the same.

"'All trees are unfriendly to the vine, as much from their roots as their shade. All who cultivate the vine, should remember this precept of Virgil: Apertos Bacchus amat colles.—The vine flourishes in the open unshaded hills.

"'In a word, the vine ought never to be planted in soils that can produce grain, &c. because it wants nothing but heat, and thrives best in the poorest ground. This will appear ridiculous to those who look for quantity: but as to the quality of the wine, it is in strict conformity with the laws of vegetation and with experience. I must be understood to speak here of countries only whose temperatures are favourable to the success of vineyards. We must except those in more northern latitudes. These general precepts admit of no exceptions: They will be acknowledged by all those who, with good faith, and free of prejudices, have studied the cultivation of the vine. If other modes and precepts are followed, we cannot answer for the age of the vine, or the quality of the wine.'"

These views of the locality, soils, and exposures of the fine Bordeaux wines, such as the white, or Sauterne, and vin de Grave, and the red or clarets, such as La Fitte, Chateau Margaux, &c. will be left, for the present, on the public mind, with a firm confidence in their due impression, accompanied by the remarks that the difference between our temperatures, in our present wooded condition, and that of the south west of France, may be safely taken at eleven or twelve degrees; and that the progress of clearing lands and draining swamps will reduce that difference, in a few years, below ten degrees. Thus, St. Mary's, in Georgia, will ultimately prove about as warm, for vegetation, as Oporto in Portugal, and the productions of Europe, in any given latitude, may be found in, or, as we drain and clear, introduced into the United States, in latitudes nine or ten degrees farther south. The pride of all Europe is certainly the wines of the following places:

Champagne, in latitude49°N.in Europe equal to 39° to 40° in U. S.
Burgundy,4838to39
Old Hock wine.4939to40
Bordeaux, Claret, & Sauterne.4535to36
Best brandy of the wine grape: Bordeaux and Cogniac,4535to36
The wine districts of Europe for the finest wines from Malaga and Xeres to Epernay, in Champagne36¾ to4927¾ to39or40
_A Friend to the National Industry._
PHILADELPHIA, Nov. 5, 1819.

[Officers of the Philadelphia Society for Promoting Agriculture, elected January 18, 1820.]

President. Richard Peters.

Vice Presidents. William Tilghman, George Logan, James Mease, Robert Coleman.

Treasurer. Edward Burd.

Secretary. Roberts Vaux.

Assistant Secretary. Richard Wistar, Jun.

Committee of Correspondence. Richard Peters, James Mease, Zaccheus Collins, William Tilghman, John Vaughan.

Curators. Isaac C. Jones, James M. Broome, Stephen Duncan, Joseph R. Paxson, Reuben Haines.

At the annual meeting of the Philadelphia Society for Promoting Agriculture, held first month 18th, 1820, it was Resolved unanimously, That the thanks of the Society be presented, and they are hereby presented to William Tilghman, for his able and highly valuable Address delivered this day by the appointment of the Society; and that he be requested to furnish a copy for publication.

By order,

Roberts Vaux, Secretary.

An Address delivered before the Philadelphia Society for Promoting Agriculture; at its Anniversary Meeting, January 18th, 1820. By William Tilghman, L. L. D.; chief justice of the State of Pennsylvania, and one of the Vice Presidents of the Society.