iSI)c Jarmcfs iHontl)hj bifiitor. 



91 



vnncement of h;iii|iiiicss— to him wlio denies 

 that (iiii- iiLstitiitioiis are eiipal)le of piodiicing 

 exiiltiilioii of soul and tlie passion of true slorv 

 — to liim who denies tliat we have contiilmtcd 

 any liiiiig to the stock of great lessons aii<l great 

 examples— to all these I reply hy pointing to 

 Washington ! 



And now, triends and fellow-cilizens, it is time 

 to bring this discourse to a close. 



We have indidged in gratifying recollections 

 of the past, in the prosperity and pleasures of 

 the present, and in high hopes of the future. 

 But let ns reineinher that we have duties and 

 obligations to perforin, corresponding to the 

 blessings which we enjoy. Let us remember the 

 trust, the sacred trust, atlaching to the rich in- 

 heritance which we have received from our fa- 

 thers. Let us feel our personal responsibility, to 

 the fidl extent of our power and influence, for 

 the preservation of our iuslitutions of civil and 

 religions liberty. And let us remember that it is 

 only religion, and morals, and knowledge, that 

 can make men respectable and bajjpy under any 

 form of government. Let us hold fast the gre.it 

 truth that communities are responsible, as well 

 as individuals; that no government is respecta- 

 ble which is not just ; that without unspotted 

 j)urity of public t'aitli, without sacred imblic^ 

 principle, fidelity and honor — no mere forms of 

 government, no machinery of laws, can give 

 dignity to political society. In our day and gen- 

 eration let us seek to raise and improve the mor- 

 al sentiment, so that we may look, not for a de- 

 graded, but for an elevated and improved future. 

 And when we, and our children, shall all have 

 been consigned to the house appointed for all 

 living, may love of country — and |)ride of couii- 

 tiy — glow with equal fervor among those to 

 whom our names and our blood shall have de- 

 scended ! And then, when honored and de- 

 crepid age shall lean against the Wise, of this 

 monument, and troops of ingenuous youth shall 

 be gathered round it, and when the one shall 

 speak to the oilier of its objects, the purposes of 

 its construciion,and the greatand glorious events 

 with which it is connected — there shall rise, from 

 every youthful breast, the ejaculation — "thank 

 GodJ I—] also — am an American." 



The Prayer of ihe Rev. Mr. Ellis, on the 

 occasion of the late celebration at Bunker Hill : 



Sovereign of the Universe, lliou disposer 

 of all events — thou God of nations and of men, 

 devoutly and reverently would we invoke thy 

 paternal blessing. We have come up to the 

 mount of cosily sacrifice and the treasured re- 

 membrnnces, that we may celebrate the deeds of 

 those whom we vi'iierale, and pay a grateful 

 tribute to their laeniory .and to their sacrifices. 

 We. have coniRfro;n homes of peace and plenty, 

 and wilh the families which thou dost bless — and 

 it is our boiinden duly to adore thee our Lord 

 and our father. For except the Lord had been 

 on our side, our enemies, had triumphed over us. 

 We adore thee :i.s tiie Gnd of our fathers — the 

 arm of their '■bought — the stay of their confidence 

 — their friend — their (irolector. And we invoke 

 thy blessings, O God'! 'jpoii. this venerated rem- 

 nant of the band, that lliey may return late to 

 dieir reward, and may bear to the first gatherer 

 of the hosj tiie tribute of respect and gratiliide 

 which we now offer — to assure them that Ihe 

 victory was fully won, tliat it was worth ils cost. 



We invoke thy blessing upon ibe Chief Mag- 

 istrate of tJiis lia|)py nation — upon bis^-oiiuscllors 

 and his st;iie.^iien--and upon this gathered com- 

 pany — and now would wa solemnly consecrate 

 this stoi>8 of niomorial, and would ask, in prayer 

 that thy blessing may crosvn ils summit. We 

 consecrate it not in remembrance of strife, nor 

 to perpe"jjatfi a scene of blood, but in memory 

 of ihe great and the good — to attest a great anil 

 holy iratli — and lo remind those that are to come 

 after us of duty — of liberly — of jiisliiie — aiiif of 

 the fear of God. May ils foundalion ever res; in 

 a land thai is at peace, and ils summit point to, a 

 heaven of love ;. and when its last stones cruiuble 

 into dui^t, may onr children's children continue 

 to enjoy the bles.sings of liberly, and honor their 

 fathers who suffered that they may enjoy it. 

 Hear us, oh Sod ! and answer our grayer, in the 

 name of Christ our Redeemei! 



is most lovely and enchanting; and whether the 

 tales that are told us of its influence be truth or 

 fiction, they equally ])rove the general perce])tion 

 of ils power over the feelings and aflvctions of 

 humanity. From the course whistle of the 

 plough-hoy, riding homewards on the fore-horse 

 of his team, lo the loud peal of the organ amid 

 the chorus of some hundred voices, music seems 

 10 be the most natural language of the happy, the 

 spontaneous solace of the sad. With every idea 

 of things beautiful, pure, and delightful, music 

 has been associated: hut we never mix it with 

 the images of things base, vicious and disgrace- 

 ful. 



l-'or the Fiirraer's Montlily Visitor. 

 Aunt Polly's Ride. 



Aunt Polly was no ordinary woman: she was 

 forty-five or thereabouts, and weighed two hund- 

 red .and twenty-six the last time she con.scnted 

 to know her weight by Dearborn's patent balance- 

 She was good tempered and kind, as large fleshy 

 jjeople are apt to be, and had withal much firm- 

 ness of tein|)er witli her mildness. She was 

 fond of society — went often to see her neighbors 

 of a summer's afternoon and usually drove the 

 horse herself in a neat bellows top chaise, for 

 she rarely walked, and never undertook it lor a 

 distance. 



One afternoon Dobbin was anxious to get 

 home, for it was near sundown, and notwith- 

 standing my aunt pulled hard upoatlw reins he- 

 kept increasing his speed until lie reached a gal- 

 lop. This was inviting if the road was good and 

 le\el, for my aunt said that she was turning over 

 in her mind what the Parson bad said, for she 

 had been to visit him. Turning into a lane on 

 her way, a long hill lay before her, and as the 

 horse had refiised to let her think upon other 

 subjects she now turned her attention to him, 

 ami raising herself a little from her seat and 

 feeling the lash she gave him six stripes, three 

 under each flank, and as her arm had muscle in 

 it each blow left a welt upon the skin. Dobbin 

 gathered and leaped forward like a race horse, 

 lliinking no doubt that urged thus, something of 

 conseipience was in hand, for he had never felt 

 such cuts before. As they came into the main 

 ijoad after gaining the hill, Dobbin still put for- 

 ward. The ground was easier. A stone was in 

 « long reach of the road at the foot of anotlw-r 

 hill. They saw the chaise coming, kjiew the 

 horse by his wliile iiice, and the inmates choked 

 the door with sur|irise: they li.id never seen my 

 aunt under such headway before. As she raised 

 the second hill she repeated the conniliment of 

 stripes. All saw that in anger rather than in 

 fear she rode. It did not take my aunt long to 

 gel liome. Dobbin blew like a winning racer 

 and the sweat rolled off fi'om him. "What is 

 the matter, aunt ?" ''Noihing, Dobbin only wenl> 

 fiisl at first lor his own amusement: it was then 

 iny turn, and I made him go for mine. I have' 

 given him a baktr's dozeiijsix under each flank 

 .■mil Iwo above. He sliovvs the lalleys, and has 

 had justice all round." WILLIAM. 



Masic. — In every age and every country, 

 music has. been madp 'he emblem of whatever 



France before the Revolution. 



We have been much impressed in reading Al- 

 ison's History of Europe, wliich the Harpers are 

 now issuing, wilh llic deplorable condition of 

 the French Agriculturists previous to the Revo- 

 lution which overturned temple and throne in 

 ihat country. The only wonder .■ui American 

 experiences is. not tli.it such a terrible revulsion 

 took place, but that liuman nature could have 

 endured such op|)ression and indignities so long. 

 Things are bad enough now. in some of ihecon- 

 linental countries, but tlianli. Heaven such op- 

 ))ression would iiovv be meti by prompt and over- 

 whehiining resistance. We condense from the 

 first voluiiK! of the History some facts tu sub- 

 slantiato our remarks. 



'J'lic taxes, exclusively afTeoling agricultural 

 labor, amounted lo about 30 millions of dollars, 

 So excessive was their burden, that Sir Arlhur 

 Young calculated that supposing liie produce of 

 an acre worth £3 2.S 7il., ihe [iroporlion which 

 went lo the King was £1 Itis. 4d. ; lo the biud- 

 loril liSs, and to the tiirmsr 5s. In other words, 

 if the produce of ihe acre was divided into J2 

 parts, nearly 7A wen! to. the King, 3^ to the pro- 

 pritior, and one to the farmer. But thi.s, though 

 deplorably bad, was ma.'le still more intolerable 

 by the game law.'^, which fetlercd the most im- 



portant operalions of agricultnri;. Game of the 

 most destructive kind to the crops were permit- 

 ted lo go at large. Large herds of deer, and 

 numbers of wilil boars to be luinled for the 

 amusement of the great, ravaged the unenclosed 

 fields. The damage done to four jmrishes in 

 IMoutceaii, amounted from this causi! to about 

 40,000 dollars. Numerous edicts existed which 

 prohibited the cultivator from hoeing jiiid weed- 

 ing, lest the young palridges should be deslroyed ; 

 from mowing hay lest the eggs should he des- 

 troyed ; taking away the stubble lest the birds 

 should be deprived of shelter; manuring with 

 night soil lest the flavor of this game should be 

 injured. The people were bound to grind their 

 corn at the landlord's mill ; press their grapes at 

 his press ; and hake their bread at his oven. The 

 use of hand-mills was not free, and the (iroprie- 

 tors had the power of selling to the laborers the 

 light or privilege of pounding buckwheat or 

 barley between two stones. 



We repeat, it cannot be wondered at, that a 

 spring so enormously loaded, should, when the 

 pressure was suddenly removed, react far beyond 

 any safe or mar.ageable bounds. The enslaved, 

 oppressed, trodden down peasant of France, bad 

 a long arrear of vengeance and bitter wrong to 

 settle with the oppressor, and every line of ibe 

 long account was summed up in blood. — JV. Y. 

 CuUivaior. 



For tfie Farmer's Monthly Visitor. 

 Agriculture. 



This most important branch of industry be- 

 gins to be looked upon in its true light. Not 

 only by liiose who are more immediaiely con- 

 ceriic!!, but by all classes of the community. 

 For the last tilteen or twenty years, there has 

 been a strowg disposition, in our young men, (and 

 old ones, too.) to leave the ciihivatinn of the 

 earth, and go to some manufacturing village or 

 cily, where it was supposed a support was mon; 

 easily obtained. Conseqnenlly, the farming in- 

 terest, has been neglecteil, until wiiliin a few 

 years. Men of all professions are beginning lo 

 look upon Ihe cultivation of mother earth ns the 

 base upon which all oilier branches of industry 

 must rest. The question uatuially arises, what 

 ha.s- produced this general interest felt by the 

 (jommunity, in regard lo fiirining? 1 apprehend 

 that the weekly and moiuldy agricillural publi- 

 cations have done much in prodnciug this resnil. 

 And you, .Mr. Editor, have (lone much in placing 

 this pristine occupalinn of man in its true light. 

 iMany an individual like myself who have spent 

 fifteen or twenty yeais in the Cotton .Mills, (which 

 whilst it has, in some instances, contributed lo 

 fill the pocket with coppers, has, in more instan- 

 ces, been at the exjieiise of bealih and hap|ii- 

 ness,) have been, by the reading of your excel- 

 lent paper, indncod to leave the hot and dusty 

 atmosphere lo which a manufacturer is necessa- 

 rily exposed, to breathe the pure and invigorating 

 air liiat blows over the gniiid hills anil ihroiu;b 

 the luxuriant valleys of our good old New Eng- 

 land. About two years since I accidentally fi-ll 

 in wilh one of the Visitors, the pi'rii«al of wliicli 

 recalled numerous a.«siicialious of my boyboiid. 

 I concluded lo subscribe lor it the ri'iiLiindcr of 

 llie year. Sin"(; that lime I procured :ill the 

 back numbeis li-nm its couimencomenl, aiirl have 

 read ibem all to the present niimbcr; and h:ul 1 

 paid fiiiir ti)ld the price of si!bscri|.'tioii, I should 

 liave oblained an equivalent.. I consider that 1 

 derived iniicli valuable iiifbrmaliou wliicdi 1 iii- 

 tenrl to make a practical a|iplication of. 



I have been mush interested in reading the 

 various articles inn lation lo compost heaiJ^. It 

 seems to me that this source of nulriment lo 

 plants has been vvolidly overlooked by tile gen- 

 eralily v' Rirmers. Manure iiiid ils .ipplicalion 

 is of the first impoi t.incc. Without lunuuie It 

 would, be ill vain lo cultivate llie soil, w illi any 

 reasonable hope of a fliir remimeralinn. If iiia- 

 nurs is of such impoi lance, is it not necessary to 

 use all our means wiiliin reaah to increase ii? 

 These means are in abiindnnce. In ihe first 

 place, our barn and bam yards should be socon- 

 slrucled as to receive ilia wash of the barn sliedd 

 and other biiilding.s. The stable fi^oors maybe 

 so constructed with a triflin;: expense so as lo 

 save the urine of the callie and horses, which is 

 considerf (1 by practicil men to be of equal value 

 with the droppings. Also the hog pens may be 

 made a reservoir for the prodncliou of the farm. 



