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* * * * *
THE
RURAL MAGAZINE,
AND
LITERARY EVENING FIRE-SIDE.
VOL. I. PHILADELPHIA, _Fourth Month_, 1820. _No_. 4.
FOR THE RURAL MAGAZINE.
THE DESULTORY REMARKER.
No. III.
He whose object is to make an impression on the public mind, must
first, as an indispensable preliminary, secure the public attention.
Much that is said or written, partakes in so great a degree of
an unimpressive and a common-place character, as to be utterly
disregarded. To succeed in obtaining the public ear, is as difficult
as it is important. This success is perhaps most efficiently
promoted, by listening with attention to every remark of criticism,
whether good-natured or severe;--by then adopting the counsels of
wisdom, and leaning on the solid column of experience. If these
papers should fail to acquire popularity, and, like many of their
predecessors, sink into _undeserved_ oblivion; it shall not be from
the want of a disposition to please, but from the absence of higher
powers. It is the peculiar province of genius to render prolific
the most sterile soil, to invest with interest the most intractable
topic, and to mould into the form of beauty the most unpromising
materials. For this rare and brilliant endowment, no adequate
substitute can be found.
Should every public speaker, or public writer, be required to
confine themselves to what is absolutely original, or strictly
relevant to their subject; what would become of a vast majority
of the tribe of authors, and ninety-nine out of a hundred of our
orators in Congress? Of a speech of three or five hours in length,
one effect may be confidently predicted; that those of the audience
who do not fall asleep, will be fatigued and justly irritated, by
such an unwarrantable trespass on their time and patience. Our
national character is not yet completely formed; but some features
of it are assuming a permanent shape. Among these, there is one,
by no means calculated to elevate us in the estimation of the rest
of the world. Instead of that simplicity and Spartan brevity, by
which republicans should be distinguished, we habituate ourselves
to the unnecessary use of a multitude of words. WE ARE GIANTS IN
PROFESSION, BUT PIGMIES IN ACTION. It has been confidently asserted,
that the speeches of one of the members of our federal legislature,
from Tennessee, have actually cost the United States more money,
than would defray the entire expense of completing the Delaware and
Chesapeake canal. Now that the Missouri discussion is terminated,
how _honourable_ to the nation, it is not my present purpose to
inquire; it would be desirable to ascertain whether the vote of a
solitary member was changed, by the endless speeches which were
delivered on the subject. If not, I should presume it was a pretty
clear point, that they cost the PEOPLE much more than they were
worth; and that such a prodigal waste of the time and treasure of
the nation, is highly reprehensible. But instead of arraigning the
conduct of others, and exposing their weakness and defects, it may
perhaps be the part of prudence to spare our censure for errors to
be met with much nearer home. By giving publicity to the following
communication, I trust I shall not trespass on the indulgence of
my readers; while at the same time I shall evince a spirit of no
fictitious candour, by which I wish at all times to be actuated.
"HARRISBURG, _March 20._
"_To the Desultory Remarker._
"SIR--You will pardon the liberty which, as a perfect stranger,
I take of addressing you. I have long cultivated a taste for
literature; not that which abounds in circulating libraries, but
that which is met with in those "_founts of English undefiled_,"
the classical poets and essayists of Great Britain. Of the latter,
I have a decided preference for ADDISON; because his humour is as
innocent as it is exquisite; and because his sincere and fervid
piety is diametrically opposed to every thing like monastic gloom
and austerity. He was a benefactor to mankind during the course
of his life; and left them his example in the hour of death--"_See
how a Christian can die!_" I have not trimmed the midnight lamp,
in perusing the pages of sentimental and mischievous nonsense; but
derive the highest gratification from those books which have long
enjoyed the united suffrages of virtue. But to my purpose. You have
embarked in an honourable undertaking, and one in which very few
have been successful. You should profit, not merely by the wisdom
of those that have gone before you, but also by their mistakes. I
have read your two first numbers; and unless some improvement shall
take place, either in your matter or manner, you will never be a
favourite of mine.--There is too much unvaried gravity, and studied
elaboration, in them.--When we take up a newspaper, or magazine,
we do not expect to meet with a sermon, however well disposed we
might be to welcome it on a proper occasion. Permit me to observe,
that a long, prosing, lifeless essay, _will never be read_; and, if
frequently met with, will create a distaste for the journal itself,
in which it may appear. Being friendly to your success, you will
indulge me in repeating, that should you fail to impart a greater
degree of vanity and interest, to your future numbers; if you do not
more frequently smooth the wrinkled brow of care, and assume the
aspect of cheerfulness, you will lose many of the female readers you
have at present, and among the rest,
"Your humble servant,
"STELLA."
This is a sensible, well written letter; and, if it would not be
indecorous to express an opinion as to another feature of it, not
overburthened with compliment. I am aware of the force and truth of
some of STELLA's observations; and will endeavour _occasionally_ to
profit by them. Though considerably advanced in the vale of years, I
hope never to be insensible to the good opinion of that sex, which
can successfully prefer claims to excellence, in every department
of virtue; and whose influence on the well-being of society, is so
incalculably important. What if my temples be encircled with the
frosts of many winters, and the wings of my fancy be enfeebled,
by that incurable malady, old age; I still shall be delighted to
minister to the pleasure of those, whose approbation is worth
desiring--
The wise and the learned, the witty and the fair.
An outline of the female character has been thus happily and
accurately sketched, by the pencil of a poet.--The last couplet is
descriptive of a trait in this character, which is as amiable as it
is true.
Oh! Woman, in our hours of ease
Uncertain, coy, and hard to please,
And variable as the shade
By the light, quivering aspen made;
_When pain and anguish wring the brow,
A ministering angel thou_.
FOR THE RURAL MAGAZINE.
THE VILLAGE TEACHER.
In my younger days, I passed a considerable time in the pleasant
village of G----. The society was lively and agreeable; and, as
it consisted chiefly of ladies, our usual place of meeting was at
the tea table and the evening circle. Literature, the news of the
day, and our little amusements, furnished the principal subjects
of conversation; and although the society was elegant and well
educated, yet the frequency of our meetings often drove us, for
variety, to the intrigues and petty scandal of the neighbourhood.
The disposition for this kind of entertainment became at last so
strong, that we grew ashamed of it; and resolved one evening to
create a "Court of Scandal," by which all offences against the
good breeding and charity of speech should be tried, and whose
decisions we bound ourselves to obey. When I observe how strong is
our propensity for scandal, and with what greediness evil-speaking
is listened to, I cannot help wishing that there were such a
tribunal in every one's bosom. Did it exist, or rather did we
suffer the voice which there speaks, to be heard; we should often
be humbled at its decisions. If we unmask our actions and our
motives, we shall find this propensity at the bottom of much of
what is called--virtuous indignation. At one time, it assumes the
mock appearance of charity; at another, it tries to hide itself in
sallies of wit, or lurks beneath a half whispered insinuation, or
a kind doubt, or a malicious inquiry. Its seeds are deeply sown,
and take still deeper root in the human breast; and it requires the
strictest self-examination, and the greatest candour, to avoid being
overrun, if I may so express myself, with this nightshade.
I know of nothing more despicable, than the little mincing scandal
which buzzes about in our polite circles. Always on the wing, with
honey in its mouth, and poison and bitterness in its trail, it
spreads the injurious aspersion, and the doubtful insinuation; and
fastens them, like mildew, upon the fairest and purest characters.
It is a vice essentially grovelling, and low-minded, and which
grows upon us at unawares. It advances imperceptibly through all
its various degrees; from idle curiosity to the deep and settled
malignity, which has no pleasure but in the weaknesses, the errors,
and misfortunes, of those around it. Beware, reader! lest while
giving to my description a local habitation in the person of thy
neighbours, thou indulgest the disposition thyself, and turnest my
counsel into food for thy propensity.--But I have wandered from
my original plan, which was, to give some account of our court of
scandal, and of the decisions which it pronounced.
The first cause that came before it, was, a complaint from Julia
Manners against Miss Busy, who had circulated a report that Julia
was about to be married.
Miss Busy lived opposite to Julia's father's; and generally took
her morning and afternoon station at the parlour window. She one
day espied from thence, a well dressed young man escorting Julia
home. Her curiosity was immediately excited; and she sallied out
to the next neighbour's, to inquire who the stranger was, and to
wonder if he was not a suitor. The answer, _It is like enough_, was
sufficient. She continued her walk, discovered his name at the next
place where she inquired, and received some trivial confirmation
of her conjecture at a third. From that time forward, she asked
all whom she visited, or received, if they had seen Miss Manners'
suitor. Conjecture was built upon conjecture, till at last poor
Julia was to be married and sent off in the space of a fortnight.
After a patient hearing of an hour, the court decreed, that Miss
Busy should be interdicted any of our circle for two weeks, and that
her parlour windows should be kept closed for as many months.
Miss Lively happening to mention at the tea table, one afternoon,
that Maria Harwood had jilted Captain Jones, was immediately called
to an account. She blushed, and said it was common rumour, and that
she knew nothing but what she had heard. The court decided that
this circumstance would not excuse her, for that she thus lent the
authority of her name to an idle story which she confessed she had
no reason to believe was true. It was declared, that the person who
assisted in circulating what was mere rumour, shared in the guilt
of the fabricator; and that as Miss Lively was Maria Harwood's
particular friend, she had in this instance doubly offended. Miss
Lively was therefore examined again as to her authority for what she
had said. After much inquiry and prevarication, it turned out, that
her mother's chamber-maid had heard Mr. Harwood's cook say, that
it would serve such a proud thing right, if Miss Maria would turn
him off. The court ordered the fair offender to be reprimanded. The
punishment had the proper effect; and for six weeks she could not
mention an article of doubtful intelligence, without being asked if
it came from Mr. Harwood's cook.
The next cause which I recollect, was of rather a more intricate
nature. Julia Manners and Emma Harwood were near neighbours, and
lived on terms of close intimacy. Julia was unconcealing, generous,
and frank; free in her expressions, and warm in all her feelings.
Emma was amiable and correct, but jealous of her dignity; and rather
eager in listening to the opinions of others respecting her. Such
a disposition always finds some one ready to gratify it; and Emma
heard much to excite her jealousy, and alarm her pride. A young
lady, _a mutual friend_, wondered to Emma that she should be so
intimate with Miss Manners, and was sure she did not know all that
Julia said about her. _What?_ eagerly exclaimed Emma. "She could not
say: it was told in confidence, and she did not like to hurt any
one's feelings." This only excited more curiosity, and Emma at last
forced her half willing friend to confess, that Julia had called her
proud and touchy; and said she did not like her half so well as she
did her sister. Miss Harwood felt much hurt; and behaved very coolly
to her old friend for several weeks. Julia at last complained to the
court, and the affair was investigated. We found out, upon examining
the witnesses, that Julia had only tacitly assented to these
opinions, which had been expressed by the fair informer herself; and
had never suffered them to influence her conduct. Emma was thereupon
ordered to kiss her old companion, and make an acknowledgment before
the company of the injustice she had committed; and we unanimously
agreed to banish their mutual friend from our circle.
I had intended to give some further decisions of our court, in which
the gentlemen are particularly interested; but my good friends, the
Editors, are already looking askance for the end of my paper. _In
publica commoda peccem_--if I longer take up the room devoted to my
worthy neighbours, the farmers.
I shall only add, that we found our court of scandal so efficacious,
that it restored our conversation in a few weeks to its former tone,
and entirely banished the spirit of which I have complained.
FOR THE RURAL MAGAZINE.
"THE STORY OF RUTH."
"And, behold, Boaz came from Beth-lehem, and said unto the
reapers, The Lord be with you. And they answered him, The Lord
bless thee."
There are moments in the life of every virtuous man, when the vices
and the enormities by which he is surrounded, and above all, the
glaring deficiencies which he is compelled to remark, even in those
"whom he hath delighted to honour," come back upon the mind with an
overpowering force, and spread their disheartening influence over
the whole train of his reflections. At such moments, when we have
turned with disgust from the corruptions of human nature, and have
almost been tempted to seek in "some boundless contiguity of shade,"
a retreat from their contaminating influence; it is peculiarly
delightful to recur to some scene of virtuous enjoyment, or to
disperse the gloom which has gathered around us by a reference
to the simplicity of other times. While dwelling upon the records
of ancient purity, we become conscious of a joyous complacency;
the mind is elated in the contemplation of its own capability of
happiness, and reposes with delight upon the recollection of those
peaceful pleasures, which can only exist among a virtuous people.
There is, perhaps, no narrative to be found among the works of
ancient or modern authors, upon which the man who has become
weary of the follies of the world, can dwell with more soothing
sensations, than upon the story of Ruth. It is not to the
unrivalled beauty of its style, nor to the pathetic eloquence
which it contains, nor to the affecting nature of its incidents,
that it is indebted for its principal attractions. But it is in
the delineations of the peculiar practices of a people, who, as
yet, had not forgotten the characteristic simplicity of their
fathers; and in the striking allusions to their habits of social
intercourse, that we feel ourselves most deeply interested. Many
have delighted to paint the pleasures of rural life in all their
most glowing colours; they have dilated upon its real and its
fancied enjoyments; and have laboured to represent it as divested
of all that shall darken the lustre of native purity, or detract
from the reverence of virtue. But it may well be doubted whether
they have ever presented us with so engaging, and yet so perfectly
natural a picture, as that which is to be found in the simple and
unlaboured narrative of inspiration. In the very salutations between
Boaz and his reapers, we seem to have an evidence of that happy
equality, and that habitual piety, which are alike the concomitants
of untainted simplicity, and the victims of luxury and corruption.
"The Lord be with you," was the address of "a mighty man of wealth"
to his reapers; "and they answered him, The Lord bless thee." These
are doubtless to be considered as the accustomed salutations of
the people; and they may frequently have carried with them nothing
more than the idea of mere ceremony. But they were salutations
which must have originated among a religious people; and it was a
ceremony which must have been associated with all that is helpless
and dependant in man, and all that is merciful and omnipotent in his
Creator.
C.
Most of our readers will probably recollect the amiable and
enterprising ELIZABETH FRY, who has been for some time past, like
the celebrated Howard, engaged in visiting the prisons of England.
The peculiarity of the undertaking, for a female, and her unexpected
success in drawing the attention of the wretched objects of her
care, to something like their native dignity, have excited much
interest in the public mind. A copy of the following letter, giving
some account of her proceedings in Glasgow, was handed to us, with
the privilege of publishing it.--ED.
Communicated for the Rural Magazine.
_Letter to Mrs. Fletcher, from a
friend in Glasgow._
Mrs. Fry's manner and voice are delightful; her communications,
free and unembarrassed.--She met, by appointment, several of the
magistrates, Mr. Erving, and a number of ladies, at Bridewell. She
told them, with much simplicity, what had been done at Newgate; and
proposed something similar, if practicable, in Glasgow.
She entered into very pleasant conversation with every one. All were
delighted when she offered to speak a little to the poor women:
but the Keeper of Bridewell said he feared it was a dangerous
experiment; for that they never, but by compulsion, listened to
reading, and were generally disposed to turn all into ridicule. She
said she was not without fear of this happening; but she thought
it would give pleasure to some, and would serve to show the ladies
what she meant. The women, about a hundred, were then assembled in
a large room; and when she went in, seemed astonished, misdoubting,
and lowering. She took off her little bonnet, and sat down on a
low seat, fronting the women; and looking round with a kind and
conciliating manner, but with an eye that met every one, she
said--"I had better just tell you what we are come about." She said
"she had had to do with a great many poor women, sadly wicked; more
wicked than any now present, and how they had recovered from evil."
Her language was often Biblical, always referring to our Saviour's
promises, and cheering with holy hope those desolate beings. "Would
you like to turn from that which is wrong? Would you like if ladies
would visit you, and speak comfort to you, and help you to be
better? Would you tell them your griefs? for they who have done
wrong have many sorrows."
As she read them the rules, asking them always if they approved,
they were to hold up their hands if they acceeded. At first we saw
them down, and many hands were unraised; but as she spoke, tears
began to fall. One beautiful girl near me, had her eyes swimming
in tears; and her lips moved as if following Mrs. Fry's. An older
woman, who had her Bible, we saw pressing upon it involuntarily,
as she became more and more engrossed. The hands were now almost
all ready to rise at every pause; and these callous and obdurate
offenders were, with one consent, bowed before her. At this moment,
she took the Bible, and read the parables of the _lost sheep_, and
the _pieces of silver_, and the _prodigal son_.--It is not in my
power to express the effect of her saintly voice, speaking such
blessed words. She often paused, and looked at the "poor women," as
she named them, with such sweetness, as won all their confidence,
and she applied with a beauty and taste such as I had never before
witnessed, the parts of the story--_His father saw him when he was
afar off_, &c.--A solemn pause succeeded the reading. Then, resting
the large Bible on the ground, we saw her on her knees before the
women. Her prayer was soothing and elevating; and her musical voice,
in the peculiar recitative tone of her sect. I felt it like a
mother's song to a suffering child.
Communicated for the Rural Magazine.
BRANDYWINE, _2d mo. 3, 1820._
REUBEN HAINES,
_Esteemed friend_--I avail myself of a leisure hour to communicate
my opinion on the subject on which we had some conversation when
thou wast at my house. I allude to the importance of a more general
use of mill feed for cattle in the neighbourhood of cities and
towns, where hay almost always commands a high price.
We will, in the first place, view the subject at the cost of the
respective articles in your market at this time.--Shorts can now be
had at 30 cents per double bushel, weighing about 35 lbs.
100 bushels of shorts, weighing 3500 lbs. neat,
will cost D.30 00
3500 wt. of hay, at 25 dolls. per ton, will cost 39 12
______
Difference, D. 9 12
Here there is a difference of $9, 12 cents, in favour of shorts,
in a given weight of each; but I am quite confident, in my own
opinion, that, taking an equal weight of each, there is _double the
sustenance_ in the shorts; and if this opinion be correct, it shows
the following important result:
7000 lbs. of hay, at 25 dls. per ton, would cost D.78 25
While 3500 lbs. of shorts, in which there is
equal if not greater nutriment, would cost only 30 00
______
Gain in favour of shorts, D.48 25
But it appears to me there is another important saving would result
to the farmer, from the introduction of mill feed. It would enable
him to keep his stock of horses at a great deal less expense than he
now keeps them. They would be more healthy, and _all his hay_ might
be saved for the horned cattle. By a very slight mixture of shorts
with cut straw, or cut corn-stalks, it would make very palatable
food; and the result in this method, compared with foddering on hay,
would be as follows.
One hundred bushels of shorts would be ample to mix with two tons of
straw, and two tons of stalks.
The shorts, as heretofore stated, would cost D.30 00
2 tons of wheat, barley, or oat straw, at 5 dolls.
per ton, 10 00
The corn-stalks are now generally put in the
barn-yard: allow what paid for hauling
them, say D.2 50 per ton, 5 00
Allow also for trouble in cutting the straw and
stalks, 10 00
______
55 00
_The Weight of the foregoing as follows_, viz.
The shorts, 3500 lbs.
2 tons of straw, 4480
2 tons of stalks, 4480
______
12,460 lbs.
An equal weight of hay, at the present price,
25 dolls. would cost 139 25
______
Difference, D.84 25
Thou wilt readily perceive, without my dwelling on it, that the
above method would answer equally well for store cattle as for
horses. By the present mode the corn stalks are almost wholly
lost, and a great proportion of the straw trodden under foot in
the barn-yards. One benefit that would result from the change of
feeding, and which must be obvious to every one, would be its
enabling every farmer to keep a larger stock; and thus _increase his
manure_,--the grand secret, after all is said, in farming well, and
doing it to advantage.
If it is alleged that my calculation of hay is too high, it may be
observed, that the shorts are also estimated at a price higher than
they often command in the Philadelphia market. I have known them as
low as 20 cents; and 25 cents is a very common price in the fall of
the year. They may safely be put in bulk in the 11th mo. and will
keep sweet until the ensuing spring.--I have thus hastily thrown my
ideas together on this subject. If thou canst glean from them any
thing of importance, I shall be glad.
Thy assured friend,
JAMES CANBY.
_Treatise on Agriculture_.
SECT. II.
Of the actual state of Agriculture in Europe.
12. The climate and soil of _Great Britain_ and _Ireland_, are
particularly favourable to husbandry; nor is her geographical
position less auspicious--placed, as she is, on the longest line,
and amidst the most important markets of the continent of Europe.
If to these advantages be added the laborious, enlightened, and
enterprising character of the nation, we cannot but expect results
the most favourable to agriculture: yet is the fact notoriously
otherwise. To show that this opinion is neither hasty nor unfounded,
we must enter into details, which may not be unprofitable.
The surface of England is estimated at 37,265,853 acres, which are
distributed as follows:
In pasturage, 18,796,458
In tillage, 11,350,501
In cities, roads & canals, 3,454,740
Lands fit for pasturage
or tillage not cultivated, 3,515,238
Lands unfit for cultivation, 2,148,921
Of the arable land the following annual disposition is made:
Lands unfit for cultivation, 2,148,921
In wheat and rye, 2,000,000
In peas, beans, and buckwheat, 2,000,000
In barley and oats, 4,000,000
In fallow, or in turnips or
cabbages, 3,400,000
The lands, in wheat and rye, yield on an average of ten years,
_three quarters_ per acre, or 6,000,000 quarters; yet there is an
annual deficit in England of 1,820,000 quarters, which must be drawn
from foreign markets.[1]
[1] A _quarter_ is equal to six bushels, and the average produce
in wheat and rye 18 bushels per acre. For the whole kingdom the
deficit is 2,820,000 quarters. See Geographic Mathematic, art. Great
Britain.
There is certainly nothing very flattering in this view of
English agriculture; but it may be said to be one of statists and
politicians, and probably underrated. Let us then see what their own
most eminent agriculturists, their Young and Sinclair, and Dickson
and Marshall, say on this subject--"_A very small portion of the
cultivated parts of Great Britain, is to this day, submitted to a
judicious and well conducted system of husbandry; not in fact more
than four counties_, (Norfolk, Sussex, Essex, and Kent:) _while
many large tracts of excellent soil are managed in a way the most
imperfect and disadvantageous_."[2]
[2] See the introduction to Dickson's Practical Agriculture, 2d vol.
quarto.
Nor is her management of cattle better. "Considering the domestic
animals in a general way, we find each species, and almost every
race, capable of great improvement, and, with a few exceptions, the
sheep much neglected. In some districts are whole races of cattle
incapable of improvement (within a reasonable time) in the three
great objects which they are expected to yield, viz. milk, flesh,
and labour."[3] We now add _some_ of the causes to which this
defective husbandry has been ascribed: "to enumerate all would be
impossible, from their number and complication."[4]
[3] Marshal, vol. iv. p. 575.
[4] Dickson's Practical Agriculture.
"1st. The _commons_, or unenclosed grounds, which in many places
amount to near one half of the whole arable land, and which are
submitted to the most absurd and ruinous system of culture."[5]
[5] Idem.
"2d. The _terms_ (amounting to personal servitude) under which many
of the lands are held."
"3d. The _shortness of leases_ given by corporations (civil and
religious) and by individuals, and which seldom exceed _three_,
_five_, or _seven_ years, excepting in the counties of Norfolk,
Sussex, Essex, and Kent, where (with great advantage to both
landlord and tenant) they are frequently extended to twenty-one
years."
"4th. The _tithes in kind_, paid by the farmers to the church; a tax
highly vexatious in its character, and oppressive in its effects: and
"5th. The _poor tax_, which has become enormous, and of which the
yeomanry pay three fourths. Of this tax it has been truly said, that
it is a powerful instrument of depopulation--a barbarous contrivance
for checking all national industry."[6]
[6] Young's Tour through Ireland, vol. ii. p. 302.
To these causes, assigned by British writers, may be added the
_increase_ of _population_, common to every nation of Europe, and
which in Great Britain is beyond all proportion greater than the
progress of agriculture; the _augmentation_ of _cattle_, which
occasions that of pasturage, and the diminution of tillage;[7] the
_establishment_ of _great farms_ at the expense of _small_ ones, and
the _multiplication_ of _parks_ and _pleasure grounds_; and lastly,
the _attraction of great cities_, and the _continual drafts_ made
upon the agricultural population, for the army and navy, and for
commerce and manufactures.
[7] Mr. Hume quotes with approbation an author, who complains of
the decay of tillage in the reign of Elizabeth, and who ascribes
it to the increase of pasturage, in consequence of the restraints
imposed on the exportation of grain, while that of butter, cheese,
&c. was free. The history of Europe, if read with an eye to public
economy, furnishes an abundant proof, that the greatest obstructions
to agriculture have arisen from the interference of government. We
have here no sly allusion to our own projects of a state board of
agriculture, of a chymico agricultural professorship, nor even of
an agricultural college, if the treasury in its wealth, and the
legislature in its wisdom, should deem such institutions useful or
necessary.
SECT. III.
Theory of Vegetation.
Vegetables may be regarded as the intermediate link in the great
chain of creation, between animals and minerals. The latter grow by
mere chymical affinity, and by additions, sometimes analogous and
sometimes foreign from their own nature; while plants, like animals,
have an organization that enables them to receive their food, digest
and assimilate it to their own substance, reproduce their species,
and maintain an existence of longer or shorter duration. Thus far
the learned are agreed, but at the next step they differ.
What is this food that gives to plants their developement, and
maturity, and powers of reproduction? Lord Bacon believed that
_water_ was the source of vegetable life, and that the earth was
merely its home, its habitation, serving to keep plants upright,
and to guard them against the extremes of heat and cold. Tull, on
the other hand, (and after him Du Hamel) pronounced _pulverized
earth_ the only pabulum of plants, and on this opinion built his
system of husbandry. Van Helmont and Boyle opposed this doctrine
by experiments: the former planted and reared a cutting of willow
in a bed of dry earth, carefully weighed and protected against
accretion by a tin plate, so perforated as to admit only rain and
distilled water, with which it was occasionally moistened. At
the end of five years the plant was found to have increased _one
hundred and sixty-four pounds_, and the bed of earth to have lost,
of its original weight, only _two ounces_. Boyle pursued a similar
process with gourds, and with a similar result. Notwithstanding
the apparent conclusiveness of these experiments, their authority
was shaken, if not subverted, by others made by Margraff, Bergman,
Hales, Kirwan, &c. &c. The first of these showed, that the rain
water employed by Van Helmont, was itself charged with saline
and other earthy matter; Bergman demonstrated this by analysis,
while Kirwan and Hales proved that the earth in which the willow
cutting was planted, could absorb these matters through the pores
of the wooden box which contained it, and that a glass case could
alone have prevented such absorption. Hunter, finding that oil and
salt entered into the composition of plants, concluded that these
formed their principal food, and accordingly recommended, as the
great desideratum in agriculture, an _oil compost_. Lord Kaimes
attempted to revive the expiring creed of Lord Bacon, but finding
from Hales' statics, that one third of the weight of a green pea was
made up of carbonic acid, he added _air_ to the watery aliment of
the English philosopher--but entirely rejected _oil_ and _earth_,
as too gross to enter the mouths of plants, and _salt_ as too acrid
to afford them nourishment. Quackery, which at one time or other,
has made its way into all arts and sciences, could not easily be
excluded from agriculture. Hence it was, that the Abbe de Valemont's
_prolific liquor_, and De Hare's and De Vallier's _powders_, &c.
&c. were believed to be all that was necessary to vegetation, and
found the more advocates, as they promised much and cost little.
But before the march of modern chymistry, quackery could not long
maintain itself; and from the labours of Bennet, Priestly, Saussure,
Ingenhouz, Sennebier, Schæder, Chaptal, Davy, &c. &c. few doubts
remain on this important subject.--These will be presented in the
course of the following inquiry.
1st. Of _earths_, and their relation to vegetation.
Of six or eight substances, which chymists have denominated
_earths_, four are widely and abundantly diffused, and form the
crust of our globe. These are _silica_, _alumina_, _lime_, and
_magnesia_.--The first is the basis of quartz, sand and gravel;
the second, of clay; the third, of bones, river and marine shells,
alabaster, marble, limestone and chalk; and the fourth, of that
medicinal article known by the name of calcined magnesia.--In a
pure or isolated state,[8] these earths are wholly unproductive;
but when decomposed and mixed,[9] and to this mixture is added
the residuum of dead animal or vegetable matter,[10] they become
fertile, take the general name of _soils_, and are again specially
denominated, after the earth that most abounds in their compositions
respectively. If this be silica, they are called _sandy_; if
alumina, _argillaceous_; if lime, _calcareous_; and if magnesia,
_magnesian_. Their properties are well known: a _sandy_ soil is
loose, easily moved, little retentive of moisture, and subject
to extreme dryness; an _argillaceous_ soil is hard and compact
when dry, tough and paste-like when wet, greedy and tenacious of
moisture; turns up, when ploughed, into massive clods, and admits
the entrance of roots with great difficulty. A _calcareous_ soil is
dry, friable and porous; water enters and leaves it with facility;
roots penetrate it without difficulty, and (being already greatly
divided) less labour is necessary for it than for clay. _Magnesian_,
like calcareous earth, is light, porous and friable; but, like clay
when wet, takes the consistency of paste, and is very tenaceous of
water. It refuses to combine with oxygen, or with the alkalies; is
generally found associated with granite, gneiss, and schiste, and is
probably among the causes of their comparative barrenness.[11]
[8] See Gisbert's experiments on _pure earths_ and _their mixtures_.
See also Davy's Elements of Agricultural Chemistry, p. 156.
[9] In this respect nature has been neither negligent or niggardly,
if (as Fourcroy asserts) the purest sand be a mixture of quartz,
alumina, and sometimes of calcareous matter. _Speculative geology_
is romance, and does not merit the name of science; yet is science
obliged to borrow her theory of soils. The alternation of heat
and cold, moisture and dryness, decomposed the mountains of
primitive, secondary and tertiary formation; rains, and the laws
of gravity, brought these from places of more, to places of less
elevation--where, by mechanical mixture and chymical combination,
the present substrata were formed. But these were yet naked and
unproductive, when the Cryptogamia family (mopes and lichens) took
possession of them, and in _due time_ produced that vegetable
matter, which made the earth productive and the globe habitable!
[10] Dead animal and vegetable matter, in the last stage of
decomposition, give a black or brown powder, which the French
chymists call _terreau_ or _humus_, and which Mr. Davy calls an
_extractive matter_; _this_ is the fertilizing principle of soils
and manures.
[11] The opinion is general among the chymists of Europe, that
magnesian earth is not only barren itself, but the cause of
barrenness in other soils in which it may abound, unless saturated
with carbonic acid. See Base, Tennant, and Davy.
In these qualities are found the _mechanical relations_ between
earths and vegetables. To the divisibility of the former it is
owing, that the latter are enabled to push their roots into the
earth; to their _density_, that plants maintain themselves in an
erect posture, rise into the air, and resist the action of the
winds and rains; and to their _power_ of _absorbing_ and _holding_
water, the advantage of a prolonged application of moisture,
necessary or useful to vegetable life. But besides performing these
important offices, there is reason to believe that they contribute
to the _food_ of vegetables. This opinion rests on the following
considerations and experiments:
1. If earths do not contribute directly to the food of plants, then
would be all soils alike productive; or in other words, if air and
water _exclusively_ supply this food, then would a soil of pure sand
be as productive as one of the richest alluvion.
2. Though plants may be made to grow in pounded glass, or in
metallic oxides, yet is the growth, in these, neither healthy nor
vigorous; and,
3. All plants, on analysis, yield an earthy product;[12] and this
product is found to partake most of the earth that predominates in
the soil producing the analyzed plant; if _silica_ be the dominant
earth, then is the product obtained from the plant _silicious_;
if _lime_ prevail, then is the product _calcareous_, &c. &c. This
important fact is proved by De Saussure.
[12] Davy says this never exceeds one fiftieth of the whole product.
_1st Experiment._
Two plants (the pinus abies) were selected, the one from a
calcareous, the other from a granitic soil, the ashes of which gave
the following products;
Granitic Calcareous
soil. soil.
Potash 3 60 15
Alk. and mu. sul 4 24 15
Carbonate of lime 46 34 63
Carbonate of magnesia 6 77 00
Silica 13 49 00
Alumina 14 86 16
Metallic oxides 10 52 00
_2d Experiment._
Two Rhododendrons were taken, one from the calcareous soil of Mount
de la Salle, the other from the granitic soils of Mount Bevern. Of
a _hundred_ parts, the former gave fifty-seven of carbonate of lime
and five of silica; the latter, thirty of carbonate of lime, and
fourteen of silica.
_3d Experiment._
This was made to determine whether vegetables, the product of a soil
having in it no silica, would, notwithstanding, partake of that
earth.--Plants were accordingly taken from Reculey de Thoiry, (a
soil altogether calcareous) and the result was a very small portion
of silica.
These experiments, says Chaptal, leave little if any doubt, but that
vegetables derive the earthy matter they contain from the soil in
which they grow.[13]
[13] Shæder maintains the doctrine, that the earths found in
plants are created there by the process of vegetation. His essay
on this subject was crowned by the academy of Berlin, in 1801. His
experiments were the first to determine the different quantities of
silica found in different kinds of grain.
2. Of _water_, as an agent in vegetation.
Seeds placed in the earth, and in a temperature above the freezing
point, and _watered_, will develope; that is, their lobes[14] will
swell, their roots descend into the earth, and their stems rise into
the air. But without humidity, they will not germinate; or deprived
of humidity after germinating, they will perish. When germination
is complete, and the plant formed, its roots and leaves are so
organized as to _absorb water_. The experiments of Hales prove,
that the weight of plants is increased in wet and diminished in dry
weather; and that in the latter, they draw from the atmosphere (by
means of their leaves)[15] the moisture necessary to their well
being.--Du Hamel (and after him Sennebier) has shown, that the
filaments that surround the roots of plants, and which has been
called their hair, perform for them in the _earth_, the office that
leaves perform in the atmosphere, and that if deprived of these
filaments the plants die.
[14] Moisten a bean in warm water, and detach the skin that covers
it, and it readily divides into two parts; these are called _lobes_.
[15] Bonnet's experiments show, that it is the under surface of the
leaf that performs this function, The upper surface has a different
office.
It would be easy, but useless, to multiply facts of this kind
tending to establish a doctrine not contested, but which after
all does not assert, that water makes part of the food of plants.
On this point two opinions exist--the one, that this liquid is a
solvent and conductor of alimentary juices: the other, that is
itself an aliment and purveyor of vegetable food at the same time.
The first opinion is abundantly established. Water when charged
with oxygen, supplies to germinating seeds the want of atmospheric
air, and saturated with animal or vegetable matter in a state of
decomposition, or slightly impregnated with carbonic acid, very
perceptibly quickens and invigorates vegetation. The second opinion
is favoured by some of De Saussure's experiments. On these, Chaptal
makes the following remark, which expresses very distinctly an
approbation of the doctrine they suggest:--"The enormous quantity of
hydrogen (which makes so large a part of vegetable matter) cannot
be accounted for but by admitting (in the process of vegetation)
the _decomposition_ of _water_, of which hydrogen is the principal
constituent; and that though there is nothing in the present state
of our experience that directly establishes this doctrine, yet that
its truth ought to be presumed, from the analysis of plants and the
necessary and well-known action of water on vegetation.
(To be continued.)
_Correction._--In copying the second section, page 55, an error
escaped in relation to the _Tuscan_ plough; the passage should have
read thus--"The plough of the north of Europe, like that of this
country, has the power of a wedge, and acts horizontally--that that
of Tuscany has the same direction, but very different form. With the
outline of a shovel, it consists of two inclined planes, sloping
from the centre, and forms a gutter and two ridges.
Review for the Rural Magazine.
_An Expose of the Causes of Intemperate Drinking, and the means
by which it may be obviated. By Thomas Herttell of the city of
New York. Published by order of the New York society for the
promotion of internal improvement_.--New York, 1819.--pp. 56.
This is an ingenious and interesting pamphlet. It is written with
much force and originality; and we think we shall do the public a
service by laying before our readers some of the author's remarks.
There is no vice which steals upon us in so many attractive and
deceitful shapes as that of intemperate drinking. In this country it
is a national sin and infects every class of society. We meet its
temptations in our social intercourse, at our public festivals--in
the resorts of business; we see it indulged in by men of eminent
character; spirituous liquors are kept in every sideboard, and
brought forth upon almost every occasion. One class of society
imitates the practice of another, and habitual drunkenness has
become the stigma and disgrace of our country.
The pamphlet before us, remarks (page 6) that "the existence of
this vice is now generally acknowledged, its progress marked, and
its effects deplored. It is traced to the grog-shop where many of
its most degrading _effects_ are discovered, and _mis_taken for
_causes_, and the remedy attempted to be applied."
"Though I am not disposed to become the advocate of grog-shops, or
to avert from them any portion of merited animadversion--or inclined
to become the apologist of those who, under colour of keeping a
tavern, follow the business of dram-selling; I am not willing
that these places should be considered either as the _primary_ or
_principal cause_ of the evil under review. The current opinion that
such is the case, is incorrect, as I shall endeavour to shew. And
I am induced to do this, from the conviction that the mistake is
calculated to stop investigation short of the true source, and thus
prevent the remedies from reaching the fountain-head of the evil.
It happens in this, as in too many other instances, that the little
sinners become the subjects of censure, while those whose crimes
differ from them only in magnitude, are overlooked, or treated with
complaisance. Is it _wrong_ to sell liquor by the _glass_, to those
who drink it--and is it _not wrong to sell it by the hogshead_, for
the purpose of being so disposed of? Are both these culpable, and
shall those who import and sell it by the cargo, escape obloquy?
And does the distiller differ from all those, in any other respect,
than that he makes while they sell the poison for the purpose of
its being drank? It is not my intention to censure the latter any
more than the former class of dealers in ardent drink; and justice
forbids that blame should attach itself exclusively to either. They
are all _particepes criminis_, inasmuch as they all contribute
facilities to the practice of intemperate drinking, and thus aid the
continuance and increase of the evil. But its most prolific sources
are not to be found among those classes of our fellow-citizens,
considered in the _business character_. They only conform to the
_customs_ and _habits_ of the community in which they live. They
find their neighbours in the practice of using ardent drink, and
profit by their folly. No one would be so weak as to invest his
money in ardent liquor with the expectation of _learning_ people
to drink. It is the _already acquired habit_, which constitutes
the basis of his calculations of profit. So far, therefore, from
grog-shops being the _primary_ or _principal cause_ of intemperate
habits, the reverse of the position approaches nearer the truth. The
habit of _intemperance is the cause of grog-shops_.
"As the vice under consideration did not originate at those places,
it is not limited to the class of people who drink there. The
customers of coffee houses, hotels, and other taverns, and the
sideboards and wine-cellars of private houses, prove the truth of
this position. The landlords of those establishments would take
it in dudgeon, to be told that their customers were of the lowest
grade of society; and the proprietors of well stored sideboards
and wine-cellars, would be highly offended at the imputation of
drinking, or learning to drink, at grog-shops. If the practice of
tippling was confined to the lower order of society, it could not
with any propriety be regarded as a national sin. The character and
habits of that class of the community can never alone constitute
national character. Admitting, therefore, that intemperate drinking
is justly attributed to us as a feature of our national character,
it follows irrefutably, that the _causes_ which produce that
_effect_ are not confined to the purlieus of bar or tap-rooms. The
upper classes of society never follow the examples of the lower: but
the latter do, as far as they are able, imitate the customs of the
former. Had the habit of intemperance originated in the lower class,
it would not, in all probability, have extended beyond it. As its
prevalence is so general as to become a reproach to the nation, the
inference is conclusive, that it is the progeny of higher parentage
than grog-shops."
"The radical sources of the evil" says judge Herttell, "are _in the
fashions, customs, and examples, of what are called the upper or
wealthy classes of the community_."