72 



THE FARMER'S MONTHLY VISITOR. 



May^ 1842. 



in the ground, which renders it necessary to nild 

 manures occasionally, when the crops are carried 

 oft' the ground ; when they are consumed on it, 

 the soil is constantly iinproVing without the addi- 

 tion of inanure. 



8. It is in some instances a specific {ooi} of veg- 

 etables, by this means greatly increasing the 

 quantity of some plants, as clover, sainfoin, and 

 other of the broad leaf grasses; peas, corn, roots, 

 &:c. ; while some of the narrow leaf grasses, 

 and wheat, barley, oats, &c., are scarcely benefit- 

 ed by it. 



9. In opposition to the suggestion of our cor- 

 respondent, we have well attested experiments of 

 its immediate beneficial effect on crops sulfering 

 from drought, before any rains had come to its 

 aid ; it having been in some slight degree dissolv- 

 ed hy copious dews. 



10. Its application in the neighborhood of salt 

 water, has seldom been attended with benefit, 

 owing luidonlitedly to its combining with the sa- 

 line vapor, wafted to it by the sea breezes. 



11. Frequent benefit is derived from its use, on 

 vines and other plants infested with insects, for 

 though the diluted acid constituting a portion of 

 it, may be highly beneficial to the vegetable, it is 

 poison to the insect. 



12. Wet lands are not improved by it. 



Vi. Many soils are already so highly charged 

 with gypsum in their natiu'al condition; as to de- 

 rive no benefit from an ndditiunal quantity. There 

 is scarcely any saline substance more generally 

 diffused, it constituting a portion of almost every 

 soil, and is contained to a greater or less extent, 

 in all river and spring water ; and giving to the 

 latter especially, when in considerable quantity, 

 the character of hardness. 



From this cause, (its general and large diffu- 

 sion,) is unquestionably owing the want of effect 

 on clay land.«i. These almost invariably contain 

 considerable portions of sulphur and lime ; we 

 liave then but to add a portion of oxygen to tlie 

 sulphur, which is abundantly found in the soil, 

 and water, and atmosphere, and we have the sul- 

 phuric acid, which brought into combination with 

 the lime, gives us the gypsum. This enters di- 

 rectly into the substances of some plants, as we 

 have seen above ; and on others, it acts favora- 

 bly, by its subsequent decomposition, and union 

 with other substances, as potash ; and es|iecially 

 by seizing on and fixing the ammonia, brought 

 into contact with it by the dews and rains from 

 the atmosphere. These midtifarious operations 

 of nature in her secret laboratory, with all the 

 elements and under all the varied circumstances 

 in which she works, are not so clearly detected, 

 as to develope her modus operandi with sutS- 

 cient certainty, to establish well defined and ac- 

 curate theories. We therefore leave the subject 

 for the practical farmer to experiment upon, with 

 what little light we have thrown together on the 

 subject above. Am! with all the theory in the 

 world, experience as to its value to certain crops, 

 under certain circumstances, and on certain soils, 

 would be of more value to the farmer; and to 

 liim we must look for such experiments, as can 

 alone afford any reasonable or correct foundation 

 of the theoretic action of this important mineral. 

 We will add, that another reason for the want of 

 eflwct on clay soils, may be found in the abund- 

 ance of the sulphates of anunonia, potash soda, 

 magnesia, alumina, &c., whi<-h they contain. 



Our own use of gypsum has been limited, as 

 the land we have cultivated for a few years past, 

 has been a tenacious clay. On n field containing 

 twenty acres, which was occupied with oats, 

 sown on a freshly turned and unmunured soil ; 

 oats sown on a well manured piece, occupied for 

 several preceding seasons with roots ; and a large 

 clover patch ; we sowed in the latter part of May 

 last year, about seven acres in diflTerent patches, 

 at the rate of five or six pecks to the acre. The 

 ground had become quite dry, and we had but 

 .slight rains afterwards, and though the whole 

 season was remarkably dry, we had a large crop 

 from each part of the field, (thus showing the 

 superiority of a clay soil in drought); vet so far 

 as we could discover, there was no apparent dif- 

 ference in the plastered and unplastered portions 

 of the field. There may have been some ad- 

 vantage in the weight or nutritive character of 

 the crop aflforded by tlie plaster, but of this we 

 could not judge, as our experiment did not go 

 far enough to settle this point. 



From the Ladies' Companion for IVlay. 

 Tlie Cemeteries of New Orleans. 



BY WILLIAM G. HOWARD. 



, where each sliali lalie 

 Hi3 chamlier in the silent halb of death. 

 Then go not like the quarry slave at night, 

 Scourged to hia dungeon ; but sustained and sootiied 

 By an unfaltering trust appro.ach tliy giave, 

 Like one who wraps tire drapery of his couch. 

 About liini, and lies down to pleasant dreams." 



Bnjant. 

 Reader ! hast thou ever visited ihe Crescent 

 City ? If so, it is a matter of history that thou 

 hast stood within the precincts of those vast repo- 

 sitories of the dead with which it abounds. No 

 stranger can remain here a day, without huriy 

 ing off" to these great centres of attraction. Am 

 it is a source of real, tliongh melancholy [ileasuie 

 to retire, occasionally, from the bustle of tin 

 world, and hold cotnmunion with the unconsciou; 

 tenants of the tomb. It exeils a healthful influ- 

 ence on all the better feelings of the heart. SucI 

 is peculiarly the case here, where " the posti 

 lence, that walketh in darkness, and the destruc 

 tion, that wasteth at noon-day," are so often aiu 

 severely felt. The conflicting passions that agi- 

 tated the breast, are, for the moment, bushed 

 We realize the vanity and the uncertainly of all 

 terrestrial things. The desire for the wealth of 

 this world is wholly absorbetl in the stronger 

 desire lor the true riches of righteousness. An 

 anxiety for the praise of men gives way, for tlu 

 time being, to an irrepressible anxiety for thi 

 praise of our Father, who is in Heaven. Here i 

 is we learn the import and beauty of that charm 

 ing specimen of elegiac eloquence — '-Thou turn 

 est man to destruction, and sayest return, y« 

 children of men!" .^nd now, if ever, we feel 

 our need of that sublime and consoling pliiloso 

 phy disclosed by the " Teacher of Nazareth,' 

 which irradiates the darkness of the grave with 

 the felicities and glories of a "new heaven and a 

 new earth." 



The mode of burial here is peculiar, and ai 

 from the necessity of the case — the thinness and 

 dampness of the soil. Instead of conunitting the 

 body of the deceased to the wet bosom of the 

 earth — a custom that almost universally prevails 

 — it is deposited in a sepulchre built expressly 

 tor its reception above the ground. These se- 

 pulchres are not, like that of the Saviour of man- 

 kind, hewn out of the rock, but are constructed 

 of bricks, stones, or such other solid material 

 taste, or wealth, or friendship may suggest. The 

 opening into them is made in the form of an arcl . 

 and is only of sufficient size to contain the inani- 

 mate frame it is intended to receive. When 

 the body is interred, the mouth of the opening is 

 so closed up as to rfinder it impervious to the air, 

 and, in this appropriate enclosure, the relics of 

 tlie weary and way-worn repose in calm and 

 quiet sleep. I admire this method of interment. 

 There are none of those revolting associations 

 connected with it, that cluster around the i)r,ic- 

 tice as It exists in other sections of our country. 

 The heart is not chilled with the thought of 

 freezing dampness and the insatiate earth-worm. 

 The Catholic burying-groiind is the most mag- 

 nificent affair of the kind I ever saw. No one 

 can form an adequate conception of its richness 

 and splendor, whose eyes liav.e not beheld it as 

 it is. I have read of tlie " city of the dead," but 

 never, until my visit to this consecrated place, 

 did my mind conceive the full force of the ex- 

 pression. It is, emphatically, a city of tombs ; 

 some of which are surpassingly grand and be.iu- 

 tifid. Wealth has lavished its" treasures, and 

 taste and skill have expanded all their p-ower 

 to adorn and enrich this last home of man's 

 mouldering dust. Foiu" distinct parcels of land, 

 each of which comprises about two acres in ex- 

 tent, and all of them in immediate proximity, are 

 appropriated to the pious rites of sepulture. — 

 These distinct apartments are literally crowded 

 with every description of monuments created to 

 perpetuate the memory of departed worth and 

 friendship. Many of them are very costly and 

 elegant, and not a few are environed with iron 

 raftings, within which the loveliest flowers, of 

 hue and odor, are cultivated by the hand of sur- 

 viving aftection. They bud and bloom with su- 

 [lerior brilliancy, and their jierfume jiossesses 

 the sweetest fragrance. They seem to sympa- 

 thize with the solemn duly tbev arc destined to' 



fulfil. The cemeteries are crossed, at right an- 

 gels, by gravelled walks of a proper width, and 

 everything around presents an aspect of uneqal- 

 ed order and neatness. Death is robbed of half 

 his terroi-s when we contemplate so delightful a 

 retreat a.« this, when the storms of this sidilunary 

 scene are forever past. It is only those of a par- 

 ticular creed, however, who can find an asylum 

 here. 



But to me the Protestant grave-yard appears 

 like holier ground ; and the reason must be per- 

 fectly obvious. Tlie great majority of its inmates 

 are our own countrymen, persons of our own re- 

 ligions faith, and natives of the New England, 

 the Middle, and the Western Stales. The inode 

 of interment is precisely similar with that al- 

 ready described ; but the inscriptions are all 

 in our mother tongue, and they record names 

 with which we have been familiar from child- 

 hood. In wandering, a short time since, amid 

 its solemn aisles, my eye was arrested by a sim- 

 ple monument, here and there, enclosing all that 

 is earthly of some of the intimate companions of 

 my youthful days, who have fallen victims to 

 the cruel lavajies of the relentless Destroyer of 

 the tropics. But they sleep sweetly now that 

 " life's fitftil fever" is over. Peace to tiieir ashes ! 



One little incident arrested my attention, and 

 deeply affected my heart, during a season of so- 

 litary musing in this cemetery. A beautiful mon- 

 ument holds inurned the ashes of a pious and 

 devoted mother. Over that chaste marble pile, a 

 tbrm of feminine grace and loveliness was bend- 

 ing in all the bitterness of unassuaged sorrow. 

 She was, indeed, an angelic being, and seemed 

 too delicate and piu-e to linger long on the shores 

 of this wintry world. .\ lonely tear-drop spark- 

 led in her eye, but it soon passed away, for the 

 agony of nature drank it ere it Ml Her check 

 was pallid aa the marble on which she leaned ; 

 and her heart appeared already broken by the 

 intensity of her griet^ I wept for her with all 

 the tenderness of a child — who would not ? and ■ 

 (exclaimed in thought — Bright and beautiful girl ! 

 iKinish thy sorrow ! thy stay in this region of 

 "dust and shadows" will be short. Soon wilt 

 thou join thy dear lost friend in that blissful realm 

 where sorrows never enter, and where farewell 

 tears are never shed ! 



The Potter's Field, you are aware, is the vast 

 garner-house of the yellow scourge of this cli- 

 mate. Here are huddled away, with carele.ss in- 

 difference, the remains of such poor strangers as, 

 friendless and alone, have di«d of the epidemic, 

 and left no means to defray their necessary fune- 

 ral expenses. No one sympathized with them in 

 their slckne.as, and no mourning friends followed 

 them to their long, long home. The frightftil 

 numbers that swell the daily list of the ilead in 

 this city, during the prevalence of the acclima- 

 ting fever, are taken almost entirely from these 

 ranks. The disease itself is easily managed if ta- 

 en in its incipient stages, and if the patient is 

 treated with suitable attention ; provided, always, 

 that he is a |)erson of correct and temperate hab- 

 its. But such is not the case with him, who, is 

 destitute of home, of money, and friends. The 

 gutter is often his first bed," and the curb-stone 

 his pillow. And it is not till death stares its vic- 

 tim in the fiice that any provision is made (or his 

 relief. This is the tiagical windinj; up of the 

 great drama of life in the history of thousands, 

 who have been nurtured in the lap of affluence 

 and affection, and who have started in the career 

 of the world with the most brilliant promise of 

 future usefulni'ss and renown. A single mi.s-step, 

 it may be, has made them the wretched heirs of 

 poverty and crime. How important the petition 

 bequeathed to us by the Redeemer of our race — 

 " Lead us not into temptation !" 



.Yew Orleans, April 0, 1842. 



To the Editor of the Farmer's Monthli/ Visitor. 



Sib — There seems to he an opinion among 

 some persons that crows do not do as much inju- 

 ry in the corn fields as was formerly supposed. — 

 I am inclined to think, however beneficial the 

 crow is in destroying insects in the corn-fields, 

 that as soon as the corn is planted the crovvs may 

 II be dismissed from the field as not: be- 

 cause if they destroy insects and while they visit 

 the field pull up your corn, I consider the last evil 

 worse than the first. In order to protect the corn 

 from being pulled up by the crows I would rec- 

 1, OS soon as you have idnnted your field 



