14 



THE FARMER'S MONTHLY VISITOR, 



Krom tlie Spirit of the Age. 

 Occupations. 

 There is not a more foolisli notion afloat in tlie 

 world, than the one that it is the occupation that 

 gives character to the man. One occupation, as 

 the means of " getting a living," as the phrase 

 goes, is precisely as high and creditable as anoth- 

 er, provided tliat it be honorable, and in accord- 

 ance with the laws of God and man. The man 

 who holds the plough, hammers his iron, or drives 

 Iiis peg to support himself and his family, with 

 tlie necessaries and comforts of life, is not a whit 

 below the one who measures tape behind the 

 counter, mystifies the law at the bar, or presides 

 at the councils of a nation. There is a vulgar 

 and most pernicious feeling abroad in the com- 

 munity on this subject. Fathers must educate 

 their sons for one of what is called " the learned 

 I)rofe.ssioti3." Mothers must many their daugh- 

 ters to a lawyer, a doctor, a clergyman, or a mer- 

 chant. Horror ! the good lady would as soon 

 think of marrying her beautiful daughter to a 

 Winnebago, as to a homely, industrious, and hon- 

 orable mechanic. Why, the family would be dis- 

 graced, the name dishonored. No ! no ! The 

 business of a carpenter, a blacksmith or a farmer, 

 is not so respedabte as that of shaving notes, draw- 

 lins stolidity from the desk, peddling rotten wood 

 for^pills, or selling snuff and tobacco. And yet, 

 the duties of all the learned professions, as well 

 as those of a mercantile life, are performed for 

 the same reason that the shoemaker waxes his 

 thread, and the farmer plants his potatoes, viz: to 

 obtain a living ! Still, a set of miserable, upstart 

 fools, who are aluiost universally low-bred people 

 themselves, people who have begun life iu the 

 ditch, endeavor to establish in society artificial 

 distinctions, distinctions which they vainly hope 

 will elevate them above the common mass from 

 which they were taken, and give to them an im- 

 portance which innate worth and lionesty could 

 not command for them. Labor is labor. Honest 

 labor is honest labor. Honest and honorable la- 

 bor are the same, whether performed by the king 

 or the beggar, and is just as honorable in one as 

 the other. It is true, that all men, by habit and 

 by taste are not litted to pursue the same voca- 

 tions, and that there are natural divisions, not dis- 

 tinctions, as the word is commonly used, created 

 by habit and taste. This is as it should be, and 

 fits us for a discharge of all the peculiar duties 

 that devolve upon us as members of society. But 

 to suy, that because a man performs any given 

 duty, however humble, though necessary that du- 

 ty may be, necessarily degrades him, or renders 

 liim less meritorious, than his neighbor, who per- 

 forms another duty, yet not more faithfully ; is to 

 say that we still adhere to the monarchical prin- 

 ciples of the old world. 



Let the father educate his son to some honora- 

 ble calling, and if he have a predilection liir any 

 ])articular business, as is often the case, let him 

 follow it, if it be possible— it is the :imn that enno- 

 bles the business, not the business that emiobles 

 the man— and not spend a thought upon the dis- 

 tinctions in occupations, honorable and honest, 

 that fools have attempted to build up. Let clii 

 dreu be taught to be honorable, honest, and u| 

 right, to set a proper value upon the riches of 

 world which is only, at best, a bubble, blown into 

 existence to-day to" burst to-morrow, and to un 

 derstand that the only true and real distinctions 

 in society are those of virtue and vice, and that 

 the only true and enduring riches are an intellect 

 duly cultivated, affections schooled, and a heart 



that knows no guile^ 



Ho;s upon their Hind Legs. 



A shrewd ami amusing writer, in the New 



York Mirror, at the close of an article upon, •' the 



highest and lowest animal," relates the following 



dream : — 



I thought I was travelling in a strange country 

 where tlie hogs {for I will not rtfrain from calling 

 the coarse creatures by their common name) had 

 so far shared the effects of civilization as to have 

 become a part of society, and to have been ad- 

 mitted to the rights of citizenship. They walked 

 on their hind legs, wore handsome clothes, car- 

 ried canes, and in all respects took a share in the 

 business of life. Some were editois and doctors, 

 some lawyers and merchants. Some taught 

 schools and some were members of Congress, 

 and GoveBuors of States. They appeai-ed cer- 

 tainly to have acquired enough knowledge to fol- 



low the careers usually followed by men, and a 

 great many of them not only seemed to get on 

 very well, but even by the very want of modest, 

 self-appreciating, and honest qualities, made great 

 progress, got very rich or famous. By the art of 

 perukiers and valets de chambre they had succeeded 

 m disguising their persons, hiding their snouts, 

 getting >he bristles off their ttices, and putting on 

 quite a human appearance. Made impudent by 

 so beyond their expectations, they gener- 

 ally i)ushed into the front ranks of life by a kind 

 of competition, in which they found ievv rivals 

 among the ingenious and deserving portion of 

 their human companions. At length, so success- 

 ful were they in throwing off the prejudice which 

 once existed against them, (but which could not 

 stand the new light of the age,) that scarcely any 

 distinction was made between them and tliose 

 whom nature intended for their masters. So 

 prone, indeed, are the world to he deceived by 

 noise and pretention, that it was not at all un- 

 common to see one of these gentlemen who had 

 scarcely been at the trouble to shave his bristles 

 or to conceal his snout ; sitting on a throne, or 

 leading an army, or occupying sonie other place 

 of trust and honor. At first, I confess, so well 

 were the fellows dressed, and so naturally had 

 they learned to waTk on their hind legs, and to 

 grunt iu the tones of the human voice, that 1 was 

 taken in ; and often thought I was sitting by a 

 gentleman of rank, or introducing to ray family 

 circle a handsome, meritorious fellow. But I 

 soon found that, however successful they were in 

 passing current belbre the world at large, and in 

 the company of strangers, one could not be long 

 in their society alone, or have much tratiic witl) 

 them without discovering of what family they 

 were. 



I had several amusing adventures of this kind. 

 I was talking with a well-bred young fellow at a 

 ball, who com|)lained extremely of the want of 

 manners in Americans, when just as 1 had taken 

 an orange from the servant, and was api)lyiug it 

 to my lips, my friend reached his head over, 

 seized it iu his mouth, and devoured it in an in- 

 stant. 



On another occasion, I was sitting down at 

 supper will) an agreeable l(?male acquaintance, 

 having been so fortunate as to possess myself of 

 the best seat, when a dignified looking jiersoii. 

 with rather a limp in his gait, (which he it-pre- 

 sented as arising lioni a woiiml leociMil in hut- 

 tie,) stooping his head towards the liutluin of iii\ 

 chair, let out a huge snout, w liich, in a twinkling, 

 thrust me several yards off, and when I rose he 

 was sitting in my place. As I would not make a 

 disturbance in that festive scene, I v.as obliged to 

 submit and went home without my supper. 1 

 amused myself, however, during the meal, by en- 

 deavoring to distinguish at the tables all the real 

 ItumaT. beings from the nunieroiis bristled intru- 

 ders among them. My astonishment was great 

 on finding how large a iiroportinn of the compa- 

 ny consisted of individuals, who, however admi- 

 rably dre.ssed and impudently pretending, yet 

 could be detected by a good observer, on taking 

 the trouble to watch thcni a little, as having been 

 obviously born and bred in a pig sti/e. It was 

 t^ery laughable, after I had acquired some prac- 

 tice, to detect the occasional squsak in a public 

 speaker, or get a glimmer of the [irolioscis on the 

 entrance of dinner, or in any scene of confusion. 

 I was at last so pestered with the numbers of the 

 animal that seemed to swarm over the whole 

 country, to have possessed themselves of all the 

 palaces and high places, to be rolling in the car- 

 riages, teaching in the university, discoursing on 

 the legislative floor, and travellini' about the 

 world for their amusement, that I was jostled, 

 pushed, bitten, and soiled wherever I went, so 

 that when I could get an actual human being tor a 

 companion who had a smooth face without a 

 mask, a handsome nose from the hand of nature, 

 a voice which would not break into a squeak 

 when he was off his guard, a clear, sensible head, 

 and a gentle human heart, I considered myself 

 more Ibrtunatc than many of my fellow creatures. 

 How hapfjv I was to awake at last and find my- 

 self in a worhl where every man is polite and re- 

 fined ; where the judges are all pure and enlight- 

 ened, the editors all impartial, the lawyers kII 

 honest, the legislators all wise ; and where all <ii:e 

 meets in society are such as one sees, at a glatue, 

 and really formed to do it honor ! 



The Milk-Cow. 



A DIALOGUE FOUNDED ON FACT. 



V. Capt. J. is it true t/iat you have paid fifty 

 dollars for a milk-cow ? 



Capt. J. Yes, indeed it is ! and you would not 

 get her were you to offer me a hundred for her. 



.iV. Oh ! it is a monstrous price she can never 

 pay it — never ; I would not give more than thirty 

 dollars for the best cow I ever saw. 



Capt. J. Come now, let us talk over the sub- 

 ject and see if we can't discover that it is quite 

 possible to tnake a cow i)ay for herself, even if 

 she cost fifty dollars. Can you tell me what is 

 the interest on fifty dollars for a year? 



A". Why three dollars — isn't it? 



Caft. J. And how many weeks are there in a 

 year .-' 



JV. Fifty-two, to be sure. 



Capt. J. Well, then, before I pmcliased this 

 cow, my butter cost me a dollar and a half a week, 

 besides what I had to pay for new milk for my 

 family; now I save all this, sell a dollar's worth 

 of butter a week, and have all the skim-milk for 

 my hogs. Now, do you think I put the value of 

 this too high at three dollars a week ? 



.V. Well perhaps not. 



Capt. J. Then, you see, I pay the interest of 

 the fifty dollars — the price of the cow — for the 

 whole year by one week's receipts. And am I 

 right, when I calculate I have the remaining fifty- 

 one weeks' receipts, with which to pay the prin- 

 cipal and her kee)iing? 



.V. I guess you are, and I am fifty dollai-s the 

 wiser lor our conversation upon the subject. 



Farmer's Cabinet. 



Great viF.i,D of Corn. — George W. Williams 

 of Bourbon County, Kentucky, has this year 

 grown on one acre and one-eighth of land one 

 hundred and sevenlji-eight bushels, or at the rate of 

 one hundred andj/ly-eight hishels to the acre. The 

 corn was an early yellow corn, and was planted 

 in rows two feet ajiart ; and one foot apart in the 

 rows. The corn was dropped in a furrow, cover- 

 ed with hoes, the surface leveled, and rolled after 

 planting. The surface between the rows was 

 scraped over with sharp hoes to cut the weeds, 

 which was all the labor the crop received. The 

 soil was good, plowed deep in the spring, and bc- 

 fuie planting, a thin coat of fresh stable manure 

 was spread over the surface, cross plowed, and 

 harrowed. Mr. Williams attributes much of his 

 success to not disturbing the roots of the corn 

 during cultivation. — Albany Cultivator. 



Utility of select sef.ds. — Mr. Gaylord in 

 the Albany Cultivator very justly remarks that 

 " tlie seed that ripens first in the ear, and is sep- 

 arated w ith the greatest ease, is the most proper for 

 s-eed,cs these circumstances shew it is the most ma- 

 ture. A farmer in one of the northern States a few 

 years since was in the habit of selling large quan- 

 tities of seed wheat annually and at high {irices, 

 as his wheat was of a superior quality, very heavy 

 and productive, and supposed to be a new variety. 

 It appeared, however, tliat he had brought his 

 whciit to that degree of iierfection, by selecting 

 some of the finest ears from a field in the first 

 place, and then instead of threshing the whole 

 crop and using the seed ))r<niiiscuously, he gener- 

 ally beat the sheaves over a barrel, by which only 

 the best and most perfect grains were separated, 

 and by repeated sowings had rendered the qual- 

 ities so desirable, permanent." 



It is reasonable to believe that every kind of 

 seed may be improved by a similar' process of 

 selection. 



Number or inhabita-nts to the square 

 MILE. — The United States furnishes a population 

 of 14 to every square mile for the inhabited por- 

 tions of the country, and 7 to a square mile for 

 the whole territory embraced within the limit» 

 of the federal jurisdiction. Contrast this present 

 occupation of the soil with the population of the 

 most thickly peojiled portions of F,u 



'.urope, and 

 room tor us t 



will be seen that there is ample 

 increase our niimeripal strength, and not be crow- 

 ded either. Belgium has but 28 to the square 

 mile ; Holland ^.'54, and Great Britain and Iielniid 

 20(>. Russia l:as but 28 to the square mile, and 

 Sweden aiid Norway only 13. France has 1.58 ; 

 Itidy 171: Germany 147: Austria 127, and Swit- 

 zeriand 13a 



