198 
THE SOUTHERN CULTIVATOR. 
be cleared ol stones— an operation that covered 
them in some places to the depth of several feet; 
and finally he set himself to endeavor to lay the 
land dry. 
For t.his last purpose, at the lowest part of the 
farm, but where the surrounding wall, as it may 
be terrned, was highest,— and this was on the 
east, — he ordered a bank of moss to be dug out, 
and placed in a situation convenient for being 
dried and burned. In the course ol this digging he 
came upon both stones and clay, treasures of 
great value in his circumstances; and lest the 
winter, by filiing the pond with water, should 
render further digging impossible, he pursued 
his labors with great assiduity. His determi- 
nation was, that this rcaervoirshould afford him 
gn opportunity ofdraining the land; andshoitld 
it prove unequal to this, that a pump or pumps, 
to be worked by a small windmill, should raise 
the water to a height enabling him to send it off 
of his territories. In the mean time, he knew 
what ridicule the suspicion, even, of such a 
project would draw upon him, and therefore he 
gratified inquirers by informing them that he 
was forming a fish-pond for the residence, and 
even e-xpected to draw profit from the ice in 
vfinterby letting it out for curling, though the 
game was not then known in that part ol Scot- 
land; and the parties, breathing softly, turned 
from him, and gently lilting up their hands and 
eyes, departed. Meantime he was intersecting 
his field, in numerous directions, by drains, 
leading them into one another, diverging, 
branching, and every way varying them ac- 
cording to the inequalities of the ground; and 
after proving their running, carefully filled them 
with stones taken from the surface, and all tend- 
ing at last to the general reservoir. Even in 
winter, the land becamedrier and drier, and peo- 
ple now began to see the use of the pond. By 
the return of spiing he had effectually drained a 
large space in fropt of his residence, and gene- 
rally prepared it for the operation of the plow. 
And even in this, by a sort of natural instinct, 
he differed from the accustomed mode. Aware 
that oxen draw most gently and steadily, he had 
secured the temporary use of a strong yoke of 
these, to be tried in all such portions of the soil 
as seemed rqost likely to be capable of being 
opened up by the plow. People from the vil- 
lage had been engaged to attend at the same 
time to complete, with the spade and other im- 
plements, what the plow might leave imper- 
fectly done, and give him, if possible, a field ; 
and they had by this time so entered into the 
spirit of the thing, that the attendance was large, 
and in many cases gratuitous. He had no lime 
for the present; but he had been scavenger to 
the villages during the winter, and he had se- 
cured all the runnings from his own cattle in a 
great tank. He now set to burning, in close 
kilns all the turf he had been able to accumu- 
late during the summer; and between these and 
the refuse of the few cattle for which he had been 
able to find food, he was enabled to plow and 
manure some twenty acres of land, which he 
sowed and planted with the usual crops, accom- 
panying all the white crops with sown grass. 
To complete his experiment, he had procured a 
cask to carry out the runnings of his stables, 
&c., and having placed it on a cart, and fitted if 
with a tail-box pierced with holes, such as is 
used for watering streets and roads, he, as a last 
operation, sprinkled this liquor, so far as it 
would go, over the ground that had been dressed 
with ashes, at night, that no portion of it might 
be wasted by the sun ; and so closed the labors 
pf the first spring. 
Science had not then discovered to us what is 
now known to be true, that the terms good and 
bad land, as generally understood, are expres- 
sions without meaning, as almost every species 
pfland requires some culture to make it pro- 
ductive ; and by suitable means much may be 
made of almost any kind pf land. Neither was 
it then known, as it now is, what are the precise 
ingredients necessary to the production of the va- 
rious crops, and to which the soil is a mere ma- 
trix or receiver; and that burned earth or licae, 
pnd ammonia or the ri]nnings of stable and 
other usual manures, contain many of these in- 
gredients. But by instinct or accident, by rea- 
soning from what he had noticed, or heard, or 
read, and perhaps so far experimenting without 
much knowledge or expectation, our friend had 
hit upon many things now knoy/n to be useful, 
and the result surprised many. Not only was 
there no failure in the crops of Glen-Eden,— as 
they now began seriously to call it, — but they 
were rich and beautiful. The oats, standing 
upon moss of great depth, but drained — and that 
but for the draining and manure, would not have 
borne a green leal — were as luxuriant as if the 
depth of the moss had been the cause of their 
excellence. The other soils, lately so thin and 
dead, were now deep and dry, and herring ex- 
cellent barley, with a flush of clover about its 
roots. Potatoes, the gift of warm and distant 
regions were flourishing in their little beds cn 
this lately cold and barren moor, as if it had been 
their native and appropriate soil, and, in short, 
industry and intelligence had in a few months 
triumphed over the ignorance and neglect of 
centuries. 
Till the.se things became apparent, however, 
our expeiimenter kept in the shade. He had 
dismissed all his workers, except bis hind, 
whom he termed his “resident manager,” and 
his wife, w'ho was his sole servant, and a Gibe- 
onite of a boy, lor looking alter his sheep. As 
the crops began to show themselves, the hind 
urged upon him the beauty of their appearance, 
and the almost certain success of his experi- 
ment, and consequently the duty of resuming 
operations. According to all appearances, his 
first crop would more than pay the expense that 
would give him a permanent and valuable pos- 
session; and as Eben inclined to this opinion, 
be determined to resume. As a proper prepara- 
tive to this, he allowed his mother and sisters to 
visit him, and though they were shocked with 
the outward aspect of his residence, a black and 
careless looking turf-hut, in the midst of a com- 
parative wild, and guarded by a pet sheep and 
her lambs, that, as they approached, patted the 
ground in a very menacing manner, yet when 
they entered it, and found the servant cheerfully 
preparing a meal in one end, while in the other 
was a little parlor such as any gentleman might 
inhabit with zest and enjoyment, they were hot 
only surprised and pleased, but would gladly 
have protracted their visit, and were delighted 
to understand that they were speedily to join 
him. 
Ol course, from greater experience he rose to 
greater success. Even his laborers worked more 
cheerfully from seeing the success of what he 
had done. Moss that had hitherto seemed a 
nuisance, lyas to him a treasure, and husbanded 
accordingly; and stones that, above ground, 
were such an encumbrance, were, when planted 
in drains, of the utmost value. He became per- 
fectly happy in his labor of improving, and al- 
most regretted to think that one day it must have 
an end. Thirty years have passed since these 
operations were begun ; the barren moor has 
been reclaimed into a valuable and productive 
farm, the once barren and rugged banks that 
impeded its draining have long been turned in- 
to boundaries covered with herbage of the soft- 
est texture, and erowned with woods at once an 
ornament and a shelter, and that being to be paid 
for, will render their owner rich. ' Even the 
deep and unsightly pool, that first assisted in 
laying the dry land, has been surrounded and 
screened by wullows and alders, both useful in 
their way; and the numbers of ducEsand geese 
constantly breeding on its borders and floating 
on its bosom, must add no inconsiderable item 
to the profits of the farm. Where the first damp 
and disheartening turf shed was erected, there 
are now warm and substantial offices, and front- 
ing all, and flanked by garden walls, and bet 
hind them trees, stands a farm-house, in its first 
days a cottage, but always the seat of plain 
abiindance, and now of every comfort and ge- 
nerous hospitality. Though in a climate not 
very genial, it is always warm; and from va- 
rious flowering shrubs spread over it, seldom 
without flowers. It is the cherished residence 
of an industriou", ingenious, and very worthy 
man. 
Many, stimulated by bis success, soon follow- 
ed his example, though on a less extensive 
scale; but the unpromising wild of thirty years 
ago, is now a sheltered, cultivated, and com- 
paratively fertile spot, and the abode of many 
industrious and contented families. 
A Beautiful Incident. 
Messi's. Editors . — The following incident oc- 
curred a lew weeks since in a village in one 
of the Southern counties of our state. It was 
a warm Sabbath afternoon, and the doors of the 
village church were thrown open to let in the 
baliry air from the fields without. The congre- 
gration bad assembled and, while the minister 
was reading his first hymn, a beautiful dove 
entered the door and came walking up the main 
aisle. 
Such a visitordrew of course universal atten- 
tion. But as the choir arose to sing, beseemed 
startled, and lifting himself on his wu'ngs^ 
aligh^d on the stove pipe above him, where ne 
sat bending lijs glossy neck and turning hi§ 
head so as to catch the harmony as it swelled 
through the Temple of God. Whether it was 
the chorus of voices or the lull-toned notes 
of the organ that captivated him 1 cannot tell ; 
but he sat theperfect picture of earnest attention 
till the music ceased. 
Waiting a moment as if to hear the strain 
commence again, he started from his perch and 
sailed to the top of the organ, where he furled 
his pinion and sat and looked down on the au- 
dience. The young clergyman arose to pray. 
He is distinguished for his earnestness and fer- 
vour ol his invocation, and as he stood with his 
hands around the Bible which lay elapsed be- 
fore him, humbly beseeching the Father of all 
Good to send his Holy Spirit down, that 
beautiful bird pitched from its resting place on 
the organ, and sailing down on level wing the 
whole length of the church, perched on the Bible 
directly between the hands of the clergyman. 
It was merely a natural occurrence, but how 
beautiful the picture. There stood the rnessen- 
ger of God with face toward heaven pleading 
for heaven’s blessing — the Bible before him, 
around which his hands were reverently clasped, 
while on it stood that beautiful and innocent 
dove. The three thus together formed a group 
full of interest, and symbolizing all that is dear 
to man. The Word of God was before the 
people, with God’s chosen emblem upon it, and 
God’s herald clasping them both as he prayed. 
What wonder if a superstitious feeling ran 
through the house as the people watched the 
dove, the emblem of innocence and purity and 
the Divine Spirit itself— standing on the Bible 
and looking gently on them. Beautiful bird, it 
centered lor a time the affections of all on it; 
and he who could have injured it there, would 
have injured hundreds of hearts at the same time. 
The pressure of its tiny feet was po sacrilege 
there, for the expression of its soft eye was in? 
nocence and love. 
The clergyman, feeling the presence of the 
bird, and tearing it might distract the attention 
of his hearers, gently passed his hand over thq 
Bible. The dove, unstartled, merely hopped over 
on the cushion, where it sat till prayer was end- 
ed. It then rose and sailed away. In toimer 
times the dove would have been regarded as r; 
spiritual visitant from the unseen world, sent on 
a special mission in answer to prayer, and 
awakened feelings of awe and reverence. 
To us it was only a natural but unusual oc- 
currence, awaking simply the sentiment of 
beauty. It was a new and accidental figure in- 
troduced suddenly into a beautiful picture, giv- 
ing greater harmony and perfection to M’haf _we 
deemed perfect before. There was no religion 
in it, but it was full of beaut3\ H. 
Employment is necessary to man; if agreea- 
ble, it is a pleasure ; if useful, a happiness. 
Agriculture is the art of raising crops— hus- 
bandry the art of preserving and expending th?!^, 
