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* * * * *
THE
RURAL MAGAZINE,
AND
LITERARY EVENING FIRE-SIDE.
VOL. I. PHILADELPHIA, _Fifth Month, 1820. No. 5_.
FOR THE RURAL MAGAZINE.
THE DESULTORY REMARKER.
No. IV.
Spring, that delightful visiter, to whom beauty and melody, Zephyrus
and Flora, pay their opulent but willing tribute, has once more
arrived. Let us welcome the enchanting stranger with joyful hearts,
and let feelings of gratitude ascend to the bountiful source of all
our enjoyments. Nature is now
All beauty to the eye, and all music to the ear.
It is said by an eminent historian, in his memoirs of his own
life, that the disposition to "see the favourable rather than the
unfavourable side of things, is a turn of mind which it is more
happy to possess, than to be born to an estate of ten thousand a
year." Such a temper is not only a prolific source of complacency
to the individual who cherishes it, but by all who move within the
circle of its influence, its amiable and excellent effect is felt
and acknowledged. What a fortunate circumstance would it be for the
luckless wight, denominated by that pure and fascinating writer Dr.
GOLDSMITH, a _Magaziner_, as well as for his correspondents, should
none but critics, under the influence of this temper, undertake to
adjust their humble claims to merit. They are frequently selected,
by those who have not even read what they undertake to condemn,
as the objects of illiberal and unmeaning censure. The right to
criticise, is unquestionably perfectly valid; but, like other
rights, it is liable to abuse. By accustoming himself to indulge a
querulous, fault-finding propensity, on all occasions, even the most
distinguished orator may descend from the high station claimed for
him by his friends, to that of an inconsistent, petulant declaimer.
And notwithstanding the alternate epigrammatic point of his wit, and
the brilliant coruscations of his fancy, his speeches may at length
scarcely be heard with patience.
Courteous reader! if thou desirest to make the most of human life,
and to realize its positive blessings which are placed within thy
reach, listen to the counsels of experience, and pursue an opposite
course of conduct. Sedulously avoid the indulgence of a splenetic
humour, consult thy own gratification, and the happiness of those by
whom thou art surrounded, in contemplating
The gayest, happiest attitude of things.
If thou art now scanning our present number, with no other
object than to detect errors and expose omissions; if thou
art pre-determined to censure, be pleased to defer a further
examination, until thou art more disposed to view the "_favourable
side of things_:" when this is the case, the editors will be
delighted to pay the most respectful attention to any judicious
suggestions, promotive of improvement, either in the plan or conduct
of this Miscellany.
If thou art placed in the truly responsible situation of head of
a family, thy children and domestics, if thy deportment convey to
them the beautiful moral lesson, afforded by a uniform contemplation
of the "_favourable side of things_," will derive from it the most
substantial advantages. Domestic happiness is of such an exquisite
and sensitive organization, that it cannot endure, no not for a
moment, the scowling visage of harshness or discord.
In the ordinary daily intercourse of life, nothing conduces more
to smooth the rugged path of existence, than urbanity and mutual
indulgence. We are so constituted, that the influence of our
conduct, whether exemplary or otherwise, is powerful on that of
those with whom we associate. It should, therefore, be our object
to cultivate the habit of viewing, on all occasions, the most
"_favourable side of things_."
Opinion is so much the child of education, of association, and of
other adventitious causes, that it is next to impossible to find
two individuals, whose sentiments on all subjects are perfectly
coincident. In politics, and on a subject which is infinitely more
important, religion itself, different sentiments as to minor points
are no doubt _honestly_ entertained. Let us, therefore, avoid
impugning the motives of those from whom we differ, particularly
where no conclusive evidence appears as to the absence of integrity
of intention, with an eye of charity. Let us in this instance, also,
contemplate the most "_favourable side of things_."
When overtaken by adverse circumstances, we are too prone, without
hesitation, to assume the privilege of complaint and to infer that
we are indeed peculiarly unfortunate. But how frequently have
incidents of this character been subsequently ascertained to be
blessings, although disguised in the most repulsive form.--When they
occur, instead of being overwhelmed with despondency, it is wise to
dwell on the more "_favourable side of things_."
When public measures receive the sanction of the civil government,
which are deemed destructive to the best interests of the nation,
and in utter hostility to every principle of morality and
religion,--disheartening as the fact may be, this consolation still
remains to the humble and sincere believer in the superintendence
of an overruling Providence, that truth and virtue will eventually
be signally triumphant. This cheering conviction, where there is a
consciousness of duty faithfully performed, will gild with radiance
the most gloomy prospect. The present is emphatically the season
of genial feelings, and nothing imparts a livelier relish for its
beauties, than that amiable temper of mind which on all occasions
delights to dwell on the most "_favourable side of things_."
FOR THE RURAL MAGAZINE.
THE VILLAGE TEACHER.
The three great periods of life have each their natural and
appropriate characteristic. The eager expectation, the buoyant
hope and elastic energy, which lend their own joyous brilliancy to
every object around them, and build in the unknown future so fair
and beautiful a fabric of happiness, last not beyond the period of
youth. The anxious brow, the cold and untrusting prudence, which
succeed, but too surely indicate how many of our fairy visions have
become dim in the reality; while the steady industry and calculating
foresight with which manhood pursues more practical and perhaps
grovelling objects, stamp upon it a peculiar character of strength,
and seriousness, and sternness. As this relaxes in the course of
years, our ability and inclination for active pursuits give way;
and as the termination of our journey is approached, the hope of
future distinction ceases, and we naturally fill up the void which
is thus left in the mind, by a retrospect of our past actions.--Thus
it is that the seasons of life, like those of the year, are each
most beautiful in its own proper adornings, and that there is none
more delightful or endearing than reverend age. The long experience
which has tried the worthlessness of so many empty and vanishing
hopes, and which can pronounce with certainty respecting that which
remaineth; the knowledge of those past events, that form the link
as it were between us and history, and which not only aids us in
deciphering the past, but is endued with a prophetic gift; the
attempered zeal, the tranquil repose of the passions, so finely
and happily compared to the decline of day--impart their pure and
elevated feelings to the mind of the beholder.
It is in such society that youth may best learn to prune the
luxuriance of its hopes, and manhood to elevate its views beyond the
narrow scene of action where they now expatiate. It is in age that
the noble instinct of immortality is most conspicuous, that we feel
most surely that the horizon of this life cannot bound our mental
vision. The consolations of youth and manhood may have no higher
source than in surrounding objects--in love, or friendship, or
ambition; but age is dead to these impulses, and must be reanimated
and warmed by the influences of the life which is to come.
Such an old age is that of my friend Parmenio. He has survived
nearly all the companions of his childhood, and seen successive
generations swept away before him. After a life of useful and
honourable enterprise, he has retired to end his days in our little
hamlet amidst the scenes of his earliest youth. He has dandled on
his knee the fathers of many who now look up to him for counsel and
friendship, yet is there no supercilious air of dignity or reserve
about him. His placid eye bespeaks the serenity of his soul, and the
hope which abideth there; and though you see in his sprightliness
and activity the energy of his earlier life, it is most happily
blended with the meekness and tranquillity of age. He wears away his
remaining years in the social converse of his children and their
friends, and looks forward to his close without fear or anxiety.
I often meet him in my solitary evening walks, and we usually finish
them together. We were loitering one evening on the brow of the
hill which overlooks the course of a beautiful stream that flows
at a small distance from the village, and marking the glories of
an autumnal sunset.--"The sands," said he, "are fast ebbing in my
glass, and I feel that my allotted days are but few. I have past a
life of bustling activity, and seen a thousand forms of hope and
happiness rise and vanish before me. They have all vanished--all,
but that which is centered in heaven. I am not a votary of that vain
philosophy which would pronounce all things to be vanity; yet could
my voice be heard by the myriads of human beings who are wasting
the sinews of life in the pursuit of wealth and power, I would warn
them, from my own experience, that happiness is not in these things.
Were I to guide the course of a young person, I would bid him extend
this view, from the first, beyond the horizon of this world. I would
tell him of the utter emptiness of all human distinctions. I would
bid him pursue his avocations as a means only of health and support,
and of invigorating his mind. I would turn his feet from the paths
of fame and wealth, to those of retirement and privacy, and would
there feed his soul with immortal contemplations. Thus would I fit
him to ennoble his youth, to preserve his manhood unspotted, and to
enjoy his age. How many events are there in the course of my own
life, which I would now give the world to have prevented--duties
undone, labour misapplied, talents wasted, feelings perverted; and
all from sharing in the delusions to which the world around me is a
victim. In how many events which I once thought were accidents or
misfortunes, do I now trace an invisible hand, guiding me against my
will, and pointing to that path of unostentatious virtue which He
delights to bless. These things, however, cannot be recalled; and
as yonder sun, after a cold and cloudy career, is setting at last
in serene and tranquil beauty, and throwing his own glorious hues
upon the clouds which darkened his mid-day splendour; so do I feel
that my latter days are peaceful, and that the lights of experience
and wisdom, though late, are yet illuminating my past errors, and
enabling me to point them out as beacons and waymarks to those that
surround me."
_Extract of a Letter from William Coxe, Esq. on the Cultivation of
the Sugar Maple._
BURLINGTON, March 7th, 1820.
DEAR SIR--I understand that you have been directing your attention
to the Sugar Maple, in the belief that it will be found an
advantageous substitute for the several varieties of poplars, as
a useful as well as ornamental tree; and that you are desirous of
obtaining any information respecting its culture, or properties,
that I may be able to communicate.
I have for some time been convinced that none of the poplars would
prove a beneficial kind of timber to our farmers, from their
disposition to extend their roots, and propagate suckers at a great
distance, and from the offensive cotton which is produced by the
Athenian and Georgia varieties--and I have made many experiments
in the hope of discovering a tree, valuable for its timber, and
clean and ornamental in its foliage, which could be propagated by
seedlings. Among others, I planted the Sugar Maple and am happy to
find it one of the hardiest and handsomest trees, even on the light
sandy soil around my house; capable of withstanding the severity of
the drought of the last and preceding summers, the most intense that
are recollected in our country. Of eighteen trees I lost but two,
while the native chesnuts, raised from the nut, all perished; and
little better success was experienced in a variety of trees planted
on the same ground, such as the pine, sycamore, larch, spruce, &c.
The American elm is thought to be a hardy tree, but with me it
proved less so than the sugar maple. It is generally believed that
all the varieties of the maple require a damp soil: this is the case
with several of them, but the _acer saccharum_ flourishes in a loamy
wheat soil, in many districts of our western and northern country.
The facility by which it may be propagated from the seed, renders
its diffusion through our country, to any extent, very easy and
cheap.
Few of our native trees are more useful for fuel, and the
manufacture of potash; and as the means of affording a great and
almost inexhaustible supply of sugar, it becomes an object of great
importance, even to the farmer, who is desirous of transmitting
a valuable inheritance to his children. It is my intention to
plant this tree in the place of a line of the Athenian poplars,
which I have been obliged to cut down after eight years luxuriant
growth, from their injurious effect on the adjoining fields, by the
extension of their roots to sixty and seventy feet, throwing up a
little forest of suckers.
_Treatise on Agriculture._
SECT. III.
Theory of Vegetation.
3d. Of _air_, and its agency in vegetation:
A seed deprived of air will not germinate; and a plant placed under
an exhausted receiver, will soon perish. Even in a close and badly
ventilated garden, vegetables indicate their situation; they are
sickly in appearance, and vapid in taste.--These facts sufficiently
shew the general utility of air to vegetation: but this _air_ is
not now the simple and elementary body, that the ancient chymist
described it to be. Priestly first,[1] and Lavoisier after him,
analyzed it, and found, that when pure, it consisted of about
70 parts of azote, 27 of oxygen, and 2 of carbonic acid. In its
ordinary (or impure) state, it is loaded with foreign and light
bodies; such as mineral, animal and vegetable vapours, the seeds
of plants, and the eggs of insects, &c. Is it to this _aggregate_,
that vegetation owes the services rendered to it by air? And if not,
to _how many_, and to _which_, of its regular constituents, are we
to ascribe them? This inquiry will form the subject of the present
article.
[1] See Priestly's Experiments and Observations on different kinds
of Air, begun in 1767.
All vegetables in a state of decomposition, give _azote_; and
some of them (cabbages, radishes, &c.) give it in great quantity.
This abundance, combined with the fact, that vegetation is always
vigorous in the neighbourhood of dead animal matter, led to the
opinion, that azote contributed largely to the growth of plants: but
experiments, more exactly made and often repeated, disprove this
opinion, and shew that in any quantity it is unnecessary, and that
in a certain proportion it is fatal to vegetation.
In _hydrogen gas_, plants are found to be variously affected,
according to their local situation; if inhabitants of mountains,
they soon perish--if of plains, they shew a constant debility--but
if of marshy grounds, their growth is not impeded.
_Carbonic acid_ is formed and given out during the process of
fermentation, putrefaction, respiration, &c. and makes 28 parts
out of 100 of atmospheric air. It is composed (according to Davy)
of oxygen and carbon, in the proportion of 34 of the former to
13 of the latter. It combines freely with many different bodies;
animals and vegetables are almost entirely composed of it; for the
_coal_ which they give, on combustion, is but _carbon_ united to a
little oxygen, &c.--Priestly was the first to discover, that plants
_absorbed carbonic acid_; and Ingenhouse, Sennebier, and De Sausure
have proved, that _it_ is their _principal aliment_. Indeed the
great consumption made of it, cannot be explained by any natural
process, excepting that of vegetation. On this head, we cannot do
better than digest the experiments of these chymists into a few
distinct propositions:[2]
[2] Recherches chemiques sur la vegetation, chap. ii.
1. In pure carbonic acid gas, seeds will swell, but not germinate.
2. United with water, this gas hastens vegetation. 3. Air containing
more than one twelfth part of its volume of carbonic acid, is most
favourable to vegetation. 4. Turf, or other carbonaceous earth,
which contains much carbonic acid, is unfavourable to vegetation
until it has been exposed to the action of atmospheric air, or of
lime, &c. 5. If slacked lime be applied to a plant, its growth will
be impaired, until the lime shall have recovered the carbonic acid
it lost by calcination. 6. Plants kept in an artificial atmosphere,
and charged with carbonic acid, yield, on combustion, more of that
acid than plants of the same kind and weight growing in atmospheric
air. 7. When plants are exposed to air and sunshine, the carbonic
acid of the atmosphere is consumed, and a portion of oxygen left in
its place. If new supplies of carbonic acid be given to the air,
the same result follows; whence it has been concluded, that air
furnishes carbonic acid to the plant, and the plant furnishes oxygen
to the air.--This double function of absorption and respiration,
is performed by the green leaves of plants.[3] 8. Carbon is to
vegetation, what oxygen is to animal life; it gives support by
purifying the liquids, and rendering the solids more compact.
[3] This was a discovery of Sennebier.
4th. Of _light_, _heat_, and _electricity_, and their agency in
vegetation:
When deprived of light, plants are pale, lax and dropsical;
restored to it, they recover their colour, consistency and odour.
If a plant be placed in a cellar, into which is admitted a small
portion of light through a window or cranny, thither the plant
directs its growth, and even acquires an unnatural length in its
attempt to reach it.[4] These facts admitted, no one can doubt the
agency of light in vegetation; but in relation to this agency,
various opinions exist; one, that light enters vegetable matter,
and combines with it; another, that it makes no part either of the
vegetable or of its aliment, but directly influences substances
which are alimentary;[5] and a third, that besides the last effect,
it stimulates the organs of plants to the exercise of their natural
functions.[6]
[4] It is by a knowledge of this fact, that gardeners bleach chicony
and cellery, &c.
[5] See Fourcroy, vol. viii.
[6] See Chaptal on vegetation.
Without doing more than state these opinions, we proceed to offer
the results of many experiments on this subject. 1st. That _in the
dark_, no oxygen is produced, nor any carbonic acid absorbed; on the
contrary, oxygen is absorbed and carbonic acid produced. 2d. That
plants exposed to _light_, produce oxygen gas in water. 3d. That
_light_ is essential to vegetable transpiration; as this process
never takes place during the _night_, but is copious during the
_day_; and, 4th. That plants raised _in the dark_, abound in watery
and saccharine juices--but are deficient in woody fibre, oil, and
resins; whence it is concluded, that saccharine compounds are formed
in the _night_, and oil, resins, &c. in the _day_.
When the weather is at or below the freezing point, the sap of
plants remains suspended and hardened in the albumum;[7] but on the
application of _heat_, whether naturally or artificially excited,
this sap is rendered fluid, is put into motion, and the buds begin
to swell. Under the same impulse, through the medium of the earth,
the roots open their pores, receive nutritive juices, and carry them
to the heart of the plant. The leaves, being now developed, begin
and continue the exercise of their functions, till winter again,
in the economy of nature, suspends the operations of the machine.
Nor is its action confined to the circulation of vegetable juices.
Without vapour (its legitimate offspring) the fountain and the
shower would be unknown--nor would the great processes of animal and
vegetable fermentation and decomposition go on. Without rain or
other means ameliorating the soil, what would be the aspect of the
globe? what the state of vegetation? what the situation of man?
[7] Knight's Observations, &c.
The diffusion of _electrical_ matter, found in the air and in
all other substances, furnishes a presumption, that it is an
efficient agent in vegetation. Nollet and others have thought that,
artificially employed, it favoured the germination of seeds and
the growth of plants; and Mr. Davy "found, that corn sprouted more
rapidly in water, _positively_ electrified by the voltaic battery,
than in water _negatively_ electrified."[8] These opinions have
not escaped contradiction, and _we_ do not profess to decide where
doctors disagree.
[8] Davy's Elements.
5th. Of _stable yard manures_, _lime_, _marl_, and _gypsum_, and
their agency in vegetation:
We have already said, that vegetables in the last stage of
decomposition, yield a black or brown powder, which Mr. Davy calls
"_a peculiar extractive matter, of fertilizing quality_," and which
the chymists of France have denominated _terreau_. This vegetable
residuum is the simple mean employed by nature to re-establish
that principle of fertility in the soil, which the wants of man
and other animals are constantly drawing from it. It was first
analyzed by Hassenfratz, who found it to contain an oily, extractive
and carbonaceous matter, charged with hydrogen; the acetates
and benzoates of potash, lime and ammoniac; the sulphates and
muriates of potash, and a soupy substance, previously noticed by
Bergman.--Among other properties (and which shows its combustible
character) is that of absorbing, from atmospheric air, its oxygen,
and leaving it only azote. This was discovered by Ingenhouse, who,
with De Sausure and Bracconnet, pursued the subject by many new and
interesting experiments, the result of which is--
1. That the oxygen thus absorbed, deprives the terreau of part of
its carbon, which it renders soluble and converts into mucilage; and
2. That the carbonic acid, formed in the process, combines with the
mucilage, and with it is absorbed by the roots of plants.
If we put a plant and a quantity of slacked lime under the same
receiver, the plant will perish; because the lime will take from
the atmospheric air all the carbonic acid it contains, and thus
_starve_ the plant. Vegetables, placed near heaps of lime in the
open air, suffer from the same cause and in the same way; but
though lime, in _large_ quantities, destroys vegetation, in _small_
quantities it renders vegetation more vigorous. Its action is of
two kinds--mechanical and chymical; the first is a mere division
of the soil by an interposition between its parts; the second, the
faculty of rendering soluble vegetable matter, and reducing it to
the condition of terreau.
The _mechanical_ agency ascribed to lime, belongs also to _marle_
and to _ashes_, and in an equal degree--but their _chymical_
operation, though similar, is less.[9]
[9] Vegetable ashes are _lime_, combined with an earthy saline
matter.
_Gypsum_ is composed of lime and sulphuric acid. Mayer was the
first to present to the public a series of experiments upon it, in
its relation to agriculture. Many chymists have followed him, and
a great variety of opinion yet exists with regard to its mode of
operation. Yvart thinks that the action of gypsum is exclusively the
effect of the sulphuric acid, which enters into its composition; and
founds this opinion upon the fact, that the ashes of turf, which
contain sulphate of iron and sulphate of alumina, have the same
action upon vegetation as gypsum. Laysterie, observing that plants,
whose roots were nearest the surface of the soil, were most acted
upon by plaster, concludes, that gypsum takes from the atmosphere
the elements of vegetable life and transmits them directly to
plants. Bose intimates, that the _septic_ quality of gypsum (which
he takes for granted) best explains its action on vegetation; but
this opinion is subverted by the experiments of Mr. Davy, who found,
that of two parcels of minced veal, the one mixed with gypsum, the
other left by itself, and both exposed to the action of the sun,
the _latter_ was the first to exhibit symptoms of putrefaction. Mr.
Davy's own belief on this subject is, that it makes part of the food
of vegetables, is received into the plant and combined with it. The
last opinion we shall offer on this head, is that of the celebrated
Chaptal. "Of all substances, gypsum is that of whose action we
know the least. The prodigious effect it has on the whole race of
trefoils, (clover, &c.) cannot be explained by any _mechanical_
agency--the quantity applied being so small--or by any _stimulating_
power--since gypsum, raw or roasted, has nearly the same effect;
nor by any _absorbent_ quality, as it only acts when applied to the
leaves. If permitted to conjecture its mode of operation, we should
say, that its effect being greatest when applied to the _wet_ leaves
of vegetables, it may have the faculty of absorbing and giving out
water and carbonic acid, little by little, to the growing plant.
It may also be considered as an _aliment in itself_--an idea much
supported by Mr. Davy's experiments, which shew, that the ashes
of clover yield gypsum, though the clover be raised on soils not
naturally containing that substance."
[_Alb. Argus._
(To be continued.)
MANURES OF GREEN CROPS.
All _green succulent plants_ contain saccharine or mucilaginous
matter, with woody fibre, and readily ferment. They cannot,
therefore, if intended for manure, be used too soon after their
death.
When _green crops_ are to be employed for enriching a soil, they
should be ploughed in, if it be possible, when in flower, or at the
time the flower is beginning to appear, for it is at this period
that they contain the largest quantity of easily soluble matter,
and that their leaves are most active in forming nutritive matter.
Green crops, pond weeds, the paring of hedges or ditches, or any
kind of fresh vegetable matter, requires no preparation to fit them
for manure. The decomposition slowly proceeds beneath the soil; the
soluble matters are gradually dissolved, and the slight fermentation
that goes on, checked by the want of a free communication of air,
tends to render the woody fibre soluble without occasioning the
rapid dissipation of elastic matter.
When old pastures are broken up, and made arable, not only has the
soil been enriched by the death and slow decay of the plants which
have left soluble matters in the soil; but the leaves and roots of
the grasses living at the time, and occupying so large a part of the
surface, afford saccharine, mucilaginous, and extractive matters,
which become immediately the food of the crop, and the gradual
decomposition affords a supply for successive years.
[_Davy's Agric. Chem._
ESSAY ON AGRICULTURE.
The judicious and increasing attention of our citizens to
agricultural pursuits, must be regarded, by every enlightened
friend of his country, as among the happiest presages of its future
prosperity. Agriculture, the most ancient and useful of the arts,
the inseparable companion, if not the parent, of civilization,
is rapidly obtaining that rank in public estimation, to which
its intimate connexion with the cardinal interests of every well
regulated community gives it so unquestionable a claim. The absurd
prejudice, which has associated the cultivation of the soil with
the idea of an ignoble servitude, is fast disappearing under the
influence of milder systems of government, and has already ceased to
operate on minds having the least pretensions to discrimination or
enlargement of view.--The Patriarch of the human race was commanded
by his Creator to "_replenish the earth, and to subdue it_;" we may,
therefore, infer, that a limited attention to agriculture was among
the happy employments of Adam, in the days of primeval innocence.
But, in the language of a distinguished prelate, that original
transgression which banished man from Paradise, banished Paradise
from the earth. The primal curse is still in unmitigated operation,
and, without "_the sweat of the brow_," the least reluctant soils
will yield but scanty fruits for the sustenance and the comfort of
man. Toil is an indispensable pre-requisite in every department of
life, where wealth, or honour, or even _daily bread_, is sought
with a reasonable prospect of success. The scholar, amid the lofty
abstractions of the closet, when fatigued by incessant vigils,
realizes the painful truth, that "_much study is a weariness of
the flesh_." The merchant, though stimulated by the incitements of
enterprise and the bustle of occupation, must occasionally feel
the energies of his body and mind relax under the pressure of
business, without variety and without remission. And how grievous
are the toils of those _choice spirits_ who discover no enterprise
but in the pursuit of pleasure--who disdain to "_eat the bread of
carefulness_," and seek, amid the fugitive joys of sensuality, a
temporary refuge from the torpor of dejection, or the oppressive
listlessness of voluntary inaction.
Let not the unobtrusive husbandman fear to compare his lot with that
of those whose proud externals and apparent exemption from toil are
extremely fallacious indications of their just rank on the scale
of human happiness. Living in a land of promise and of plenty, and
under the government of mild equal laws, the American Farmer must
exult in the consciousness that "_the lines are fallen to him in
pleasant places_"--that his is, in truth, a goodly heritage. He
loves the soil, because it is the legacy of his fathers, and because
he derives from its fruitful bosom the means of sustaining life, and
protecting his feelings and opinions from the dictation of arrogance
and the various temptations of penury.
His quiet and unsophisticated modes of thinking and living,
indispose him to listen with eagerness to the solicitations of
intrigue or sedition, and it is proverbial that the contagious
frenzy of revolution, extends not without difficulty, to the
cautious, reflective, and well balanced mind of the farmer.
[_R. I. American._
ON DRESSING FLAX.
_Extract of a Letter from R. H. Harrison, Esq. to J. Wood,
Corresponding Secretary of the Cayuga Agricultural Society, N.
Y. dated_
NEW YORK, March 27, 1820.
DEAR SIR--Every farmer is acquainted with the method of raising
flax, and also of _rotting_ it; or, as it is generally called,
water and dew _retting_, and the method of separating the boon, or
woody matter, from the harle, or useful fibre. Flax has deservedly
the character of being one of the most impoverishing crops, in the
present method of treating it: it makes no return, either as animal
food, or as manure, to the land; it is therefore surprising that a
discovery which was to obviate all these disadvantages should only
have been brought into practice within a few years.
A Mr. James Lee, in England, discovered that the process of steeping
and dew retting flax, or hemp, was not necessary; and that if
treated and dressed dry, it will be superior in every respect,
produce more, and make considerable return to the land, as fodder
for cattle and as manure.
A patent was granted to him in 1812; and of such importance was
it considered, that he obtained an act of parliament to keep his
specification secret for seven years. This may be a reason why so
little has been known of it in this country. I have, however, one
of his machines in my possession, and have dressed flax with it.
It consists of a break, or as he called it, a scraper, to separate
the boon out of the stem, &c.--it is then passed through a pair of
finely fluted rollers, and is finished and ready for the hackle.
The flax plants, when ripe, are to be pulled, to be spread and dried
the same as hay, laying the roots in one direction; when dry, to be
carried into the barn: And from the report of a committee of the
house of commons on the petition of James Lee, and also on petition
of Lee and Bundy, respecting their new machine for this purpose, it
appears that the following are the results of Mr. Lee's discovery:
1st. That preparing flax and hemp, in a dry state, for spinning,
answered most completely; the cost of preparing is less, it avoids
the risk of steeping, and saves _time_ and _material_.
2d. The _strength_ and quality of the cloth is much superior to that
from flax, water steeped or dew rotted.
3d. The great advantage from the quantity of food for cattle, and
also manure obtained by this new method, the boon, or outer coat of
the flax, containing a sixth of the gluten of oats, the woody part
being excellent for manure.
It also appeared in evidence before the committee, that
100 _lbs._ flax, in a dry state,
produced one fourth, 25 lbs. fibre
100 _lbs._ flax, dew retted,
produced one eleventh, 9 1-1/2
________
Excess, _lbs._ 15 14-1/2
or a saving in proportion as 90 to 33.
In confirmation of this I can only say, I procured some flax, in
its dry state, which had been thrown away as not worth _retting_--4
lbs. of dry flax produced 1 _lb._ of fibre fit for the hackle: when
dressed in Lee's machine, the samples of flax, tow, and thread,
though, from the poor quality of the flax, inferior to some samples
of English flax dressed in the same manner, were greatly superior to
any that had been retted.
I have, however, never made the experiment of weighing the flax, and
then ascertaining its produce when retted; but from the knowledge
of those who gave evidence to this point, have no doubt of its
correctness.
There is another advantage; the flax dressed in a dry state becomes
much whiter, and is easier bleached--merely washing it in soap and
water makes it white: the finest particles of flax are also saved,
which are essential to the manufacture of lace, or very fine linen:
the seed is also all preserved.
Mr. Brande, professor of chymistry at the Royal Institution, made
some experiments on the nutritious quality of the chaff: the result
was, an eighth of nutritious matter. Mr. Lee says, it is equal to a
crop of oats for feeding cattle; and it appeared also, that horses,
when accustomed to it, prefer it to clover chaff.
Having thus briefly stated the advantages of the dry method of
dressing flax, I will proceed to give some account of the machines
for preparing it, which have been invented since Mr. Lee's. The
best appears to be Hill and Bundy's, for which Mr. Bundy obtained
a patent, in England. It consists of two machines, a breaker and
a rubber; the first for separating the harle from the boon; the
second cleanses it from small particles of wood and bark, left by
the breaker.
The breaker consists of fine fluted rollers, so disposed as to
draw the flax through them, at the same time to take off the woody
parts from it; once passing through is generally sufficient. It
is a machine combining great mechanical skill, and on an entirely
different principle from Mr. Lee's, and is not liable to get out of
order.
The rubber is made to have the same effect as rubbing by hand would,
to cleanse the fibre, and open and subdivide it, to produce the
finest thread.
Mr. Lee has invented a new machine, consisting of fluted rollers, to
work by water or horse power: it is different from Hill and Bundy's,
which is worked by hand; and the rollers work differently.
From experiments made by the different machines, it appears by the
report of the committee of the house of commons, that in Hill and
Bundy's, one breaker and two rubbers would produce 80 _lbs._ of
prepared flax in a day, and would require one man or woman and three
children: the work is light--a man can turn two breakers and two
rubbers.
Lee's machine would produce about 11 _lbs._ a day; his new machine,
worked by water, will product 50 _lbs._ in a day, and requires three
men or women to attend it.
Having never made any of the machines, I can only state the probable
cost. Hill and Bundy's one breaker and two rubbers, could be
furnished for about $200. Lee's machine, at from 60 to $70. His new
machine I have never seen a draft of, and could not tell the cost.
The high cost of Hill and Bundy's machine will prevent our farmers
generally from obtaining it. But what better business can be done,
than purchasing the flax, in its dry state, from the farmer, to
manufacture it in this way; and every town might employ its paupers
in dressing flax by these machines: they might also be introduced
into our state prisons and penitentiaries with good effect.
Having given you this hasty sketch of the recent improvement in
dressing flax, I would suggest to our agricultural societies
generally, to procure one of the machines, as there can be no doubt
of their answering. The general introduction of them would not only
promote greatly our agricultural prosperity, but also the domestic
manufactures of this state.
_To dress Flax to look like Silk._--Take one part lime and between
two or three parts of wood ashes; pour over them a due proportion
of water to make a strong ley, after they have stood together all
night, which must be poured off when quite clear. Tie handfuls of
flax at both ends, to prevent its entangling, but let the middle of
each be spread open, and put it in a kettle, on the bottom of which
has been first placed a little straw, with a cloth over it, then put
another cloth over the flax, and so continue covering each layer of
flax with a cloth, till the kettle is nearly full. Pour over the
whole the clear ley, and after boiling it for some hours, take it
out, and throw it in cold water: this boiling, &c. may be repeated,
if requisite. The flax must be each time dried, hackled, beaten and
rubbed fine; and, at last, dressed through a large comb, and through
a very fine one. By this process the flax acquires a bright and
soft thread. The tow which is off, when papered up and combed like
cotton, is not only used for many of the same purposes, but makes
lint for veterinary surgeons, &c.
[_Am. Farmer._
AGRICULTURAL MEMORANDA.
_Caterpillars._--Hemp is a great enemy to caterpillars. By
surrounding a bed of cabbages with a row of hemp, the cabbages will
be preserved.
_Churning._--After churning some time, throw into the churn one
spoonful of distilled vinegar for every gallon of cream. When
churning proves tedious, this will greatly hasten the separation of
the butter.
_To cure Hams Westphalia fashion._--Sprinkle your ham with common
salt for one day; then wipe it dry. Take 1 _lb._ brown sugar, 1/4
_lb._ saltpetre, 1/2 pint bay salt, and 3 pints common salt. Stir
these well together in an iron pan over the fire till moderately
hot. The ham to lie in this pickle for three weeks.
_Rue._--The growth of this plant ought to be cherished in every
stock yard; nothing being more salutary or even pleasant to fowls.
_Guinea Corn._--The stalks of this grain, if pressed, are said to
yield a juice sweeter and of greater body than the sugar cane.
_Carrots._--According to some agricultural reports, carrots will
yield 600 or even 900 bushels per acre.
At the last meeting of _The Columbian Institute_, some valuable
specimens of _American plants_, beautifully preserved, were
presented by Dr. _Darlington_, a representative in Congress from
Pennsylvania; and several fine specimens of _American minerals_,
chiefly collected in the valley of the Mississippi, by Mr.
_Schoolcraft_, the ingenious author of a work which has lately
appeared on the lead mines of Missouri, and natural history, &c. of
the western country.
_To make fat Lamb._--"To make or fatten lamb for the market, let
your ewes be well attended to, and fed upon a patch of rye; upon
turnips, or other corresponding food; affording abundant milk. As
fast as your lambs fall, and can run well alone, all you have are to
be shut up together in a dark pen or stall, of proportionate size
to the number of lambs you expect, having a narrow trough, breast
high to them, to be daily supplied with Indian corn meal; with the
bran in it; and hanging up within their reach one or more wisps
or small bundles of fine hay for them to nibble, at. This stall
must communicate with, or adjoin, a larger apartment, into which
you are to turn ewes twice or thrice a day, to suckle their lambs,
and to sleep all night with them.--Before turning the ewes out
to pasture, each time, the lambs must be lifted into their small
dark pen, or stall, (one six or eight feet square, is sufficiently
large for thirty lambs or more,) where they will have no room to
skip or play their fat away; here they will nibble so much of the
fine hay, and eat so much of the dry Indian corn meal, from want
of other employment, as to render themselves voraciously thirsty
against the next meal of milk from their dams; which, with the other
causes mentioned, makes them grow surprisingly large and fat in a
short time. Lambs thus educated, will often promiscuously suck the
ewes, without knowing or being attached to their own dams.--Hence
a very great advantage: for when all grow large and strong, they
become capable of consuming more milk than a single ewe can afford;
and more especially those ewes which have two or more lambs each.
For upon killing off all the lambs of a ewe, that ewe continues
to give suck to the other lambs promiscuously as before, to the
great advantage of the surviving lambs, now requiring additional
nourishment. This is not the case when lambs run out at large with
their dams."
_New method of inoculating trees._--A common method of inoculating
is by making a transverse section in the back of the stock and a
perpendicular slit below it; the bud is then pushed down to give
it the position which it is to have. This method is not always
successful; it is better to reverse it, by making the verticle slit
above the transverse section, and pushing the bud upwards into its
position--a method which rarely fails of success; because as the
sap descends by the bark, as has been ascertained, and does not
ascend, the bud thus placed above the transverse section, receives
abundance, but when placed below, the sap cannot reach it.
_Grape Vines._--About one month since, I trimmed a very luxurious
grape vine, calculating that I was early enough to allow the wound
made by the cutting to heal before the sap began to rise; but to my
surprise I found, three days since, the sap issuing from every part
where the knife had been used, the ground was completely wet with
it: I tried rosin and other things to stop it, without avail. In
conversation with a neighbour he informed me, that to stick a potato
on the part would stop the sap. I tried it and found it to succeed
completely. Apprehending that many persons may, at this season,
have vines similarly situated with mine, I thought communicating
the above might give them an opportunity of benefiting by the
information. A. B.
[_N. Y. Daily Adv._
_To dry Peaches._--The following mode of drying peaches is adopted
by Thomas Belanjee, of Egg Harbour, New Jersey:--He has a small
house with a stove in it, and drawers in the sides of the house,
lathed at their bottoms. Each drawer will hold nearly half a bushel
of peaches, which should be ripe, and not peeled, but cut in two,
and laid on the laths with their skins downwards, so as to save the
juice. On shoving the drawer in they are soon dried by the hot air
of the stove and laid up. Peaches thus dried are clear from fly
dirt, excellently flavoured, and command a high price in market.
Pears thus dried eat like raisins. With a paring machine, which may
be had for a dollar or two, apples or pears may be pared, and a
sufficient quantity dried, to keep a family in pies, and apple bread
and milk, till apples come again. With a paring machine, one person
can pare for five or six cutters.
CANKER ON PLUM TREES.
_Lansingburg, April 5, 1820._
S. SOUTHWICK, Esq.
_Sir_--I observe in your _Plough Boy_ of the 1st inst. some
observations on the disease in Plum Trees, called _Canker_, wherein
the writer states that the disease is probably caused by the trees
being bark-bound. I have had sufficient proof to convince me that
it is caused by insects only. From a variety of observations and
experiments, I find that when young shoots are throwing out of the
trees, they are stung by a species of fly, and a number of eggs or
nits are deposited through the tender bark, where they remain until
the tree commences growing the next season; those places then begin
to swell, and after a few weeks, small worms can be distinctly
observed by the naked eye, which, after about one month more is
elapsed, eat out of the protuberances, then become black, take to
themselves wings, and commence operations as before stated.
The only remedy that I can discover, is to cut off every limb
affected, on its first appearance; and if the tree be so much
affected as to be past cure, it should be totally cut down, in order
to destroy the whole race of insects which cause the disease. The
first discovery of this complaint was on the sea-board: and it has
advanced north about twenty miles a year. At present nearly all
the bearing trees on the sea coast to the southeast, are totally
destroyed, and it pervades all this part of the country. The poorest
natural blue plums are first attacked--the dark coloured grafts,
next--and lastly, the light coloured fruit fall victims. Some
few kinds as yet withstand their attacks. By observing the above
caution, my trees are entirely free from them, and bear abundantly.
I am, Sir,
Yours, &c.
ARBOREUM.
ON DOMESTIC MANUFACTURES.
SIR--The Montgomery Agricultural Society have announced the
following 40 premiums to be awarded to ladies in October, 1820. As
some of them are novel, their publication in the Plough Boy, I am
persuaded, will have an excellent effect, as an example.
W.
* * * * *
To the lady who shall produce the best
piece of cloth, made of merino wool,
spun in the family, not less than 15
yards, $8
2d best do. 6
For the best piece of cloth made of
common wool, spun in the family, not
less than 15 yards, 6
2d best do. 4
For the best piece of flannel, spun in
the family, of merino wool, not less
than 20 yards, 6
2d best do. 4
For the best piece of flannel made of
common wool, spun in the family,
not less than 20 yards, 5
2d best do. 4
For the best pair of rose blankets, spun
and made in the county, 5
2d best do. 4
For the best piece of carpeting, spun
in the family, 6
2d best do. 5
For the best external covering for beds,
spun in the county, 4
2d best do. 3
For the best hearth rug, spun and made
in the family, 3
2d best do. 2
For the best pair of worsted stockings,
made and knit in the family, 1
2d best do. 75 cents
For the best pair of woollen stockings,
spun and knit in the family, 1
2d best do. 75 cents
For the best pair of cotton stockings,
knit in the family, 1
2d best do. 75 cents
For the best pair of linen stockings,
spun and knit in the family, 1
2d best do. 75 cents
For the best half pound of sewing linen
thread, spun in the family, 4
2d best do. 3
For the best pair half stockings, knit
by a girl not over 14 years of age, 1
2d best do. 75 cents
For the best 15 runs of linen yarn, spun
by a girl not over 14 years of age, 4
2d best do. 3
3d best do. 2
For the best pair of double mittens,
spun and knit by a girl not over 14
years of age, $1
2d best do. 75 cents
For the best table linen, not less than
15 yards, 6
2d best do. 4
For the best piece of linen, not less
than 15 yards, spun in the family, 6
2d best do. 4