No. 5, 



The Heart. — Keep your Land Dry. 



141 



if penetrated — let no one indulge his indo- 

 lence by concluding, that there are not an 

 infinitude of laudable objects, towards the 

 promotion of which it is his duty, as a good 

 citizen, to lend the energies of his nnind. 

 From a multiplication of the blades of grass, 

 which grow in a man's field, ■ — and from the 

 initiatory process, by which the child is taught 

 his alphabet, to the construction of the engine, 

 whose effect is only limited by the strength 

 of its materials, and of the glasses whose 

 magnifying powers reduce the "sun, the 

 moon and the stars," to close observation, 

 there is surely, a field for labour, broad 

 enough for all to enter, and so needing the 

 cultivation of all, that none can excuse him- 

 self from his share of the common duty. 

 The farmer at his plough, and the mechanic 

 at his trade, may more and more be confirm- 

 ed in the persuasion, that as the mind is pro- 

 perly exercised the comforts of the body are 

 increased, and as we discharge our duties, 

 many of which are apart from ourselves, we 

 insure the greatest amount of life's enjoy- 

 ments. Z. Y. 



The Heart. — The wisdom of the Creator, 

 says a distinguished anatomist, is in nothing 

 seen more gloriously than in the heart. And 

 how well does it perform its office ! An ana- 

 tomist who understood its structure, might 

 say beforehand that it would play ; but from 

 the complexity of its mechanism and the deli- 

 cacy of many of its parts, he must be appre- 

 hensive that it would always be liable to de- 

 rangement and that it would soon work itself 

 out. Yet does this wonderful machine go on 

 night and day, for eighty years together, at 

 the rate of a hundred thousand strokes every 

 twenty-four hours, having at every stroke a 

 great resistance to overcome; and it contin- 

 ues this action for this length of time without 

 disorder and weariness. That it should con- 

 tinue this action for this length of time with- 

 out disorder, is wonderful: that it should be 

 capable of continuing it without weariness, 

 is still more astonishing. Rest would have 

 been incompatible with its functions. While 

 it slept the whole machinery must have stop- 

 ped, and the animal inevitably perish. It 

 was necessary that it should be made capable 

 of working for ever, without the cessation of 

 a moment — without the least degree of wea- 

 riness. It is so made ; and the power of the 

 Creator in so constructing it, can in nothing 

 be exceeded but in His wisdom. 



How many contentions have been hushed ; 

 how many divided families have been united; 

 how many characters have been reformed, 

 by injunctions uttered from the sick-couch or 

 the pillow of death ! 



Keep Your Land Dry. 



The importance of draining is not duly ap- 

 preciated, nor is its practice well understood, 

 among us. Although water is indispensable 

 to vegetation, too nmch of it is as hurtful as 

 too little. It is necessary to the germination 

 of the seed, to the decomposition of the vege- 

 table matter in the soil — to the transmission 

 of the food from the soil to the plant — to its 

 circulation there, and to the maturity of the 

 product. All these useful purposes are de- 

 feated, where water remains in the soil to 

 excess — the seed rots, the vegetable matter 

 which should serve as the food of the crop, 

 remains insoluble, in consequence of the ab- 

 sence of heat and air, which the water ex- 

 cludes; or, if the seed grows, the plant is 

 sickly, for want of its proper food, and there 

 is consequently a virtual failure in the har- 

 vest. It is not from the surface only that we 

 are to determine whether land is sufficiently 

 dry to support a healthy vegetation; but we 

 are to examine the surface stratum, into 

 which the roots of the plants penetrate ; and 

 from which they draw their food. If this is 

 habitually wet — if it grows marshy plants—- 

 if water will collect in a hole sunk fifteep 

 inches below the surface — the land is too wee 

 for cultivated crops, and means should be 

 adopted to render it more dry. From my 

 partial acquaintance with this country, I feel 

 assured that much of your best land is ren- 

 dered unfit for tillage, or the growth of the 

 finer grasses, by reason of the excess of wa- 

 ter, which passes or reposes upon the subsoil, 

 unnoticed by the cultivator. These lands are 

 denominated cold and sour, and they truly 

 are so. Cold and sour lands are invariably 

 wet lands below, if not upon the surface. 

 But if the superfluous water were judiciously 

 conducted off by sufficient under-drains, these 

 lands would be rendered warm and sweet, 

 and highly productive, and the outlay would 

 be repaid by the increased value of two or 

 three of the first crops. Wet lands are gene- 

 rally rich lands, abounding in vegetable mat- 

 ters, which water has preserved from decom- 

 position, but which readily becomes the food 

 of plants, when the water is drawn off. Let 

 me imagine a case, which I am sure will be 

 found to exist in many parts of the country. 

 There is a slope of a little hill, half a mile 

 in extent, terminating in a flat forty rods 

 wide, through which a brook meanders. The 

 soil on this slope and in this flat, is of a light, 

 porous quality, six to twelve inches deep, re- 

 posing on a subsoil impervious to water, as 

 clay, rock or hard pan. By soil, I mean the 

 upper stratum, in which vegetable matters 

 are blended with earthy materials, and which 

 constitutes the true pasture of plants. Near 

 the top of this slope, all along on a horizontal 



