^I)c Jarntcr's ilIontl)li) l)isitov. 



iugs. A road or p.-itli, six luet wide, runs llirouj;!) 

 the middle of tliu field, and llio road or patlilljat 

 leads to tlie liiriii van!, skirls one end ol' it. Tlie 

 soil of lliis large field, is a ricli, light loam, which 

 lies overa substratum of clay, but at such a de|>lh 

 as to he perfectly sound and dry : it is not very 

 fertile in its own nature, hut has been rendered 

 so by many years of an iiiiproving husbandry : 

 every part of the land 1ms been ie|n'alrdly 

 treiiched and stiiivd luo orthrec fttt deip, an<l the 

 immense quantity of manure, chietly liquid, |)ut 

 oil year after year, has convcitrd the wliole into 

 a rich mould ; the strength and vigor of the crops 

 bear witness to the goodness of the liushaiuhy. 



"As we walked along the path, which is just 

 wide enough to admit the wlieels of a cart, the 

 whole produce might be seen at once. The flax 

 bad been pulled, an<l remained stacked on the 

 ground ; the colza (cole, or rape seed,) had been 

 beaten out, hiu the stems remained where they 

 had been cut; there were fifteen acres of most 

 beaiitifid flax, of a bright straw color, and the 

 stems a yard long; this besides the seed, was 

 worth in the Mack, from twenty-five to thirty 

 j)ounds sterling, per acre ; twelve acres of colza 

 liad produced about four luMidred bushels of 

 seed ; eighteen acres of oats looked so promis- 

 ing, that they could not be set at less than seventy 

 bushels per acre ; eighteen acres of wheat, which 

 stood well, with short, phuiip ears, were estima- 

 ted at forty bushels per acre ; eighteen acres of 

 rye, with straw six feet high, would probably 

 produce rather njore than the wheat. There 

 were six acres of white ;iop])y, of which every 

 plant was strong and upright, and the produce of 

 which was estimated from twenty to twenty-three 

 bushels of seed per acre ; six acres were in po- 

 tatoes, expected to ])roduce at least twenty-two 

 hundred bushels ; about an acre was in carrots, 

 which looke<! fine and large ; twelve acres were 

 in clover, nearly the whole of which was cut 

 greeu, as food for horses and cows, and produced 

 three good cuts in a\ear; tlje ten acres of lieavy 

 land were partly in beans, and partly in wheat; 

 and the stock kept on this firm, consisted of 

 twenty-seven cows in milk, five or shi heifers, 

 nine horses and three colts.'' 



It cannot fail to strike the most inattentive 

 reader, that the crop of this one hundred and 

 twenty acres arable, greatly exceeds, perhaps 

 doubles, that of our ordinary fiu-ms of the same 

 size; when on many of what are called onv dairi/ 

 farms, of about the sairie size, not more stock is 

 kept than on this grain liirui. ^lanuring and 

 deep tillage have done this for the Brabant farm, 

 and it will do the same for any, or almost any, 

 on which it is adopted. We are convinced that 

 money expended in converting laad into lich 

 garden mould, is well apfilied, althoueh for the 

 moment, it njay seem to be thrown away, par- 

 ticularly on lands, the owners of whicli are ex- 

 pecting to get to the far West, by '-year after 

 next, at furthest." We add a description of the 

 tillage culture of another farm of about four 

 hiuidred acres, of iiatm-ally first rate land, but 

 which, by being treated ?s described, is so much 

 deteriorated, that tiie crops rarely more than 

 half equal those on the same number of acres on 

 the one just noticed. 



"The rotation on this farm, is as follows: 1, 

 fallow; 2, winter barley ; 3, beans; 4, barley, 

 or wheat, 5, beans, clover, potatoes; (>, wheat ; 

 7, oats. Thirty cart loads per acre, of long ma- 

 nure, the straw not much decomposed, are put 

 on the fallows before the last ploughing, and the 

 winter barley is sown in October ; the produce 

 being eiiiht quarters, or sixty-fom- bushels per 

 acre. Wheat, on the same [ircparation, gives 

 from thirty-two to I'oity bushels per acre, so the 

 barley gives the larccst crop, and with the least 

 exhaustion to the soil ; every year a portion of the 

 pasture is broken n]i and pl.mted with colza. — 

 The natural fertility of the soil is shown by the 

 succession of crops proihiced on the newly 

 broken up land, without manure, viz.: colza, 

 wheat, beans, barley, beans, wheat, clover, wheat, 

 beans, oats ; but after this scourging, no wonder 

 the land needs rest; and this is given without 

 much care, liy merely allowing the natiiral grasses 

 to spring up, without the truuhle of sou ing the 

 seeds : it takes, however, three years before there 

 is any tolerable pasture, but as it remains nearly 

 twenty years before it is again broken tqi, tlie 

 deterioration is not so apparent ; but under a 

 reguhrand judicious course of husbandry, this 



land might be kept up to the highest state of 

 l<;rlilily, and the ultimate profit would be much 

 greater." 



This is a [lictme of the farming so )ir(;valent 

 171 litis counlry, imd which is lust lessening our 

 products and ruining oiu' lands: it may be (iiirly 

 called tho exitaiislitig process, as the whole object 

 seems to be, to get as much from the earth, and 

 rctmn to it as lilth as possible. By the first 

 mode of linniing, tlu! land improves constantly, 

 growing -more productive, and of course more 

 valuable: a farm cultivated in this way, by deep 

 tillage, thorough management, and a well comlue- 

 tcd rolaiioii, beconjes in time, a rich mould to the 

 depth to w hicli the soil is stirred, and the roots 

 of plants, having thus ample room for range and 

 pasturage, the crops are invariably good; and 

 thus the labor and expense is repaid, and a soil 

 is formed, lar superior to the richest native earths 

 and which can then easily be kept in condition 

 to give the most am])le crops. Cultivator. 



To the Memory of Francis S. Iley. 



AlIHOK OF THE " STAlt-SPA."<GLED BANNER." 



Oh ! say, has it come, with '• the dawn's early light," 

 What no omen foretold " at the twilight's last gleam- 

 ing?" 



yes ! the soul of the minstrel has taken its flight. 

 And we hallow his n:iine whilst our tear-drops are 

 streaming, 



For the desolate hearth, and the wail for the dead, 



Too fatally tell us the poet has fled. 



And the Star-Spangled Banner in sorrow shall wnve, 



For the heart that has loved it, is cold in the grave. 



On sojne lonely bark, in the midst of the deep, 



Where tlie deck-watch is kept I'or the mate that "re- 

 poses." 



What is that soft music that mingles with sleep, 

 .\nd the solace of night's weary guardian '• discloses ?" 



Now It mellowly floats on the breath of the gale — 



Now swells like the tempest that shatters the sail ? 



'Tis the Star-Spangled Banner that's sung on the wave, 



Whilst the minstrel lies low in the sleep of the grave. 



And the soldier, whose home is the tent-covered field, 



\V'li<»se glniies in war, nn.i the patriot's promotion. 



Would gladly emblazon on victory's shield, 



The name that each freeman must hear with emotion ; 

 And the son^^ that is dear to the patriot's ear, 

 'Mid the terrors of battle, the hours of care, 

 Is the Star-Spangled Banner, which proudly was sung, 

 Whilst the harp ot' the poet with cypress was hung. 

 But, oh ! may he tind on that heavenly shore, 



Where the pure see their God, and fiecl no condemna- 

 tion. 

 That sorrow, and sickness, and sighing are o'er ; 

 .\nd that angels shall lead to a blest habitation, 

 •' For triumph he must, if his life has been just, 

 And if thro' its journey in God ivas bl', trust,'* 

 Whilst the Star-Spangled Banner in mourning shall wave, 

 .\nd the tear of the patriot shall fall ou his grave. 



Valeria. 



There are a certain set of articles, which, for 

 some excellence or othei', go the rounds of news- 

 papers every three or four years. The following 

 is one of them, which we have met with some 

 half dozen times: — 



Woman and Marriage. 



BT WASHIiNGT0>' IRVING. 



I have speculated a groat deal upon matrimo- 

 ny. I have seen young and beautiful women, the 

 pride of the gay circles, married — as the world 

 says — Weill Some have moved into costly hou- 

 ses, and their friends have all come and looked 

 at their fine furniture and their splendid aiTange- 

 menls for happiness, ami they have gone away 

 and committed them to the sunny hope.*, cheer- 

 fidly and without fear. It is luituial to bo san- 

 guine for the young, and at such times I am 

 carried aw.ny by similar feelings. I love to get 

 unobserved into a corner, and watch the bride in 

 her white attire, and with her smiling face and 

 soft eyes moving before ine in the pride of life, 

 weave a waking dream ot her fiilure happiness 

 and persuade myself that it will be true. 



I think how they will sit upon the liixmious 

 solii jis the twilight falls, and bidld gay hopes, 

 and Uiurinur in low tones the liow unlbrbiddcn 

 tenderness, !Uid how thrillingly the allowed kisses 

 and the beautiliil endearments of Hedded life, 

 will make even their parting joyous, anti how 

 gladly they will eotne back from the crowd and 

 the empty nfirth, and of the gay, to each other's 

 quiet company. I picture to myself that young 

 creature, who blushes even now at his hesitating 

 caresses, listening eagerly for his footsteps as the 

 night steals on, ami wishing that he woidd come ; 

 and wlien he enters at last, and with an affection 

 as undying as his pulse, folds her to his bosom. 

 I can fee! the very tide that goes flowing throtrgh 



his heart, and gaze with iiim on her graceful 

 forin as she iiroves about him for the kind ofTices 

 of afl'ection, soothing all his unipiiet cares, and 

 making him forget even himseli; in her young 

 and unshiulowed beauty. 



I go for\\airl tor years, and see her luxuriant 

 hair put soberly away from her brow, and her 

 girlish graces ripened into dignity, and bri;.'ht 

 loveliness chastened into affection. Her husband 

 looks on her with a proud eye, and shows her 

 the same fervent love, and the delicate attentions 

 which first won her, jiiid fair children are grown 

 up about them, and they go on lidl of honor .and 

 untroubled year.*, and are remembered when 

 they die! I say I love to dream thus when I go 

 to give the yoimg bride joy. It is the natural 

 tendency and feeling touched by loveliness, that 

 fears nothing for itself, and if 1' ever yield to 

 darker feelings, it is because the light of the 

 picture is changed. 1 am not fond of dwelling 

 upon such chatiges, and I \\\\\ not minutely now. 

 I allude to it only because I trust that my simple 

 page will be read by some of the young and 

 beautiful beings who move daily across my path, 

 and I would whisper to tiiein, as they glide by, 

 joyously and confidently, the secret of an un- 

 clouded future. 



The picture I have drawn above is not pe- 

 culiar. It is colored like the fancies of the bride; 

 and many, oh ! many an hour will she sit, with 

 her rich jewels lying loose in her fingers, and 

 dream such dreams as these. She believes them 

 too — and she goes on for a while mideceived. 

 The evening is not too long while they t;dk of 

 plans of hapjiiness, and the quiet meal is still 

 pleasant with delightful novelty of mutual reli- 

 ance and attention. There comes soon, how- 

 ever, a time when (lersonal topics become bare 

 and wearisome, and slight attentions will not 

 alone keep up the social excitement. There are 

 intervals of silence, and detecte<l symptoms of 

 weariness, and the husband first, in his manhood, 

 breaks in u[ion the hours they were to spend 

 together. I cannot follow it cireumstantially. 

 There come long hours of unhappy restlessness, 

 and terrible nii.sgivings of each other's worth and 

 afl^ection, till, by and by, they can conceal their 

 uneasiness no longei', anil go out separately to 

 seek relief, anil lean upon a hollow world for 

 support which one who was their lover and friend 

 could not give them! 



Heed this, ye who arc winning by your inno- 

 cent beauty, the aflections of high-niinded and 

 thinking beings! Remember that he will give 

 up the brother of his heart with w horn he has 

 had, ever, a fellowship of mind, the society of 

 his cotemporaiy rnmiers in the race of fame, 

 who have held with him a stern companionship 

 — and frequently in his passionate love he will 

 break awjiy fioni the arena of his burning am- 

 bition, to come and listen to the "voice of the 

 charmer." It will bewilder him at first, but it 

 will not long; and then think you that an idle 

 blandishment will chain the mind that has been 

 u.sed for years to an equal communion ? Think 

 you he will give up, for a weak dalliance, the 

 animating themes of men, and the seaich into 

 the mysteries of knowledge? Oh! no, lady! — 

 believe me — no! Trust not your influence to 

 such lii;lit fetters ! Credit not the old-fashioned 

 absurdity that woman's is a secondary lot — min- 

 istering to the necessities of her lord and mas- 

 ter! It is a higher destiny I would award you. 

 If your immortality is as complete and your gift 

 of mind as capable as oms, I would charge you 

 to water the undying bud, and give you a healthy 

 culture, and open its beauty to the sun, and then 

 you iiiay hope, that when your life is bound with 

 iiuotlier you will go on equally, and with a fel- 

 lowship that shall pervade every earthly interest! 



Fro.m the Maine Cultivator. 

 Batter 3Iakiug in Jfew York. 



Mr. Editor, — Business led me to visit Goshen 

 and .Miuisink, Orange county, N. Y., in my late 

 journey to that State, and knowing that it was 

 noted through the Union, as a superior butter 

 making country, I determined to learn every part 

 of the process. I was surprised to find that after 

 the milk is straiiied, every part of the process 

 (lifters from ours. 



The milk is strained in pans, or oaken tubs, 

 hohliiiur two pails fidl. Every thing is done in 

 tlie cellai-. The milk is not meddled with until it 

 cottgidates, when each day's, or each half dav's 



