AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
Designed to improve all Classes interested in Soil Culture. 
AGRICULTURE IS THE MOST HEALTHFUL, THE MOST USEFUL, AND THE MOST NOBLE EMPLOYMENT OF MAN —' Washington 
ORANGE 1VDD, A. M. , 
EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR. 
VOL. XVII—No. 7 ] 
BjF“Ol'liIce at J89 Watcr-st., (Near Fulton-st.) 
Contents, Terms, «fcc. see page 224. 
[copy eight secured.] 
Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1858, 
by Orange Judd, in the Clerk’s Office of the District 
Court of the United States for the Southern District of 
New-York. 
Special Note to Editors. 
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IE5F* N. K.—Every Journal is invited freely to copy 
any and all desirable articles, and no use or advantage 
will be taken of the Copy-Right, wherever each article 
or illustration is duly accredited to the American Agri¬ 
culturist. ORANGE JUDD, Proprietor. 
American Agriculturist iu (Berman. 
The AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST is published in 
both the English and German Languages. Both 
Editions are of Uniform size, and contain as 
nearly as possible the same Articles and Illustra¬ 
tions. The German Edition is furnished at the 
same rates as the English. For Prospectus see 
page 224, 
July. 
v Know ye the land where the cypress and myrtle 
Are emblems of deeds that are done in their clime * 
Know ye the land of the cedar and vine, 
Where the flowers ever blossom, the beams ever shine, 
Where the light wings of zephyr, oppressed with perfume, 
Wax faint o’er the gardens of Gul in her bloom. 
Where the citron and olive are fairest of fruit, 
And the voice of the nightingale never is mute.” 
Byron. 
We have the climate, if not the land of which 
the poet sung, during our brief torrid Summer. 
July seldom fails to give us heat of tropical in¬ 
tensity, even to the most Northern limits of our 
country. Away up in the valleys of the Green 
and White Mountains, the thermometer goes up 
to a hundred and over, and the leaves of that 
salamander plant, Indian corn, shrivel and droop 
under the burning sun. On one of these scorch¬ 
ing days, a scene in a maize field on the prairies, 
or in the bottom lands of the affluents of the Mis¬ 
sissippi, might easily be mistaken for a plantation 
in the valley of the Amazon. The whole hori¬ 
zon is yellow with the glowing heat. The at¬ 
mosphere, as far you can see, quivers with the 
radiation like the breath of a furnace. No breeze 
relieves the suffocating stillness, nothing diverts 
the thoughts from the one sensation of swelter¬ 
ing heat. The cows stand midway in the slug¬ 
gish water, the birds gasp for breath in the voice¬ 
less branches of the trees, and the tired mower 
reeking with sweat seeks the welcome shade. 
We have occasional days as oppressive as the 
Summer weather of Cuba, and were it not for the 
intervals of cloud and storm we should hardly be 
able to endure the severe labors of the hay har¬ 
vest. 
This tropical quality of our climate gives us a 
mmiiiiB in m%. 
NEW-YORK. JULY, 
great advantage over England, and the nations 
of northern Europe. The bright sunshine of 
July and August matures the maize crop from 
Georgia to Canada, a plant of tropical origin and 
appearance. The bean of Lima matures in lati¬ 
tudes north of this city, without forcing, and with 
a little of the gardener’s art, can be had in Maine. 
Tomatoes and egg plants, okra and Sweet pota¬ 
toes, are getting to be well known in Northern 
gardens. Melons, in their varieties, are grown al¬ 
most as perfect on Long-Island and in Jersey, as 
on the banks of the Savannah, and the St. John’s. 
Indeed, we have seen the Black Spanish Water¬ 
melon, of full size and flavor, grown on the upper 
waters of the Hudson, though the crop is not a 
certain one in that latitude. Our gardens are 
continually gaining accessions from tropical lands, 
and many of the vegetables that we mature of 
this class are better flavored than when they have 
the full strength of a torrid sun. 
The boasted magnificence of tropical vegetation 
and scenery is a theme that will do very well 
for poets, descanting to readers, who only judge 
of the reality from descriptions and from pictures. 
It must be admitted that they get up some very 
respectable palms and cocoanuts, lemon and 
orange groves in Cuba. But the men who have 
seen the big trees of California, or the specimens 
of White pine and hemlock, still to be found in 
the primitive forests of our northern States, have 
nothing to complain of in the way of small tim¬ 
ber and dwarf vegetation. We have oaks with 
the growth of centuries in their boughs, ever¬ 
greens that were stately trees 
“ Fit masts for tall admirals,” 
before the masts of Christopher Columbus were 
seen off San Salvador. Those who have never 
seen a bit of primitive forest, such as still exists 
in the wilderness of Northern New-York, and in 
the mountainous regions of New-England, as well 
as ‘‘out West,” hardly understand the capabili¬ 
ties of our climate in growing trees. No scene 
in tropical lands can inspire sublimer emotions 
than these monarchs of the wood, as one treads 
the dim aisles beneath their vaulted arches. 
“ Thou has not left 
Thyself without a witness, in these shades. 
Of thy perfections. Grandeur, strength, and grace, 
Are here to speak of Thee. This mighty oak 
By whose immoveable stem I stand, and seem 
Almostannihilated,—not a prince, 
In all that proud old world beyond the deep, 
E’er wore his crown as loftily as he 
Wears the green coronal of leaves with which 
Thy hand has graced him.” 
In the way of floral display nothing can sur¬ 
pass a locality of laurels or rhododendrons in full 
bloom. This latter shrub has a tropical look 
though it exists in its perfection in this latitude. 
It comes into full bloom this month, and is found 
in greater luxuriance and size in the forest, than 
in the cultivated grounds of our rural improvers. 
We have this great advantage over our tropi¬ 
cal friends, that while they can not mature many 
$1.00 PER ANNUM, IN ADVANCE. 
SINGLE NUMBERS lO CENTS. 
[NEW SERIES—No. 138. 
of our plants and fruits by artificial means, v\ e 
can grow all of llieirs under glass. With a little 
lumber and glass, and a few tons of Pennsylvania 
coal, we can get up a small section of Cuba (we 
go in for this kind of annexation) in any corner cf 
our gardens, and grow pine-apples and bananas, 
to our heart’s content. Orange and lemon trees, 
Japonicas, and a multitude of smaller foreign 
plants are common in our conservatories. The 
rich have it within their means to enjoy South¬ 
ern vegetation and flowers, all Winter long, at 
a very moderate expense. 
But what planter of the Antilles has ever de¬ 
vised a Winter house for maturing the fruits and 
flowers of the temperate zone! In no corner of 
his paradise can he grow apples, or Taise his own 
cranberry sauce. We can raise our temperature 
to the point required to grow his vegetation, at a 
tithe of the cost required to reduce his to the 
point where the fruits and flowers of the North 
will mature. 
We have no occasion to envy the inhabitants 
where perpetual Summer reigns. In this month, 
we have a genuine taste of their climate, with¬ 
out artificial means. With a little money and 
labor we can prolong it to suit our convenience 
and pleasure. There can be little doubt, that a 
given amount of means will purchase a man more 
of the luxuries and comforts of life here, than upon 
any other spot on the globe. So far as the en¬ 
joyment of life is concerned we had rather have 
a Pennsylvania farm, or one anywhere West of 
that State, to the furthest confines of Missouri, 
than all the plantations amid the spice groves of 
the tropics. We know of no finer sight than a 
fifty acre wheat field, just turning yellow, and 
nodding its plumes in graceful invitation to the 
reaper, or a like field of maize, a little later in the 
season,—the husks cracking open, to let out 
the golden ears. What perfume is sweeter to the 
farmer, than the breath of his clover and grasses, 
when his scythe sweeps down their dew laden 
blossoms at sunrise, or the odor of the same 
grasses when dried, and cartBd home at nightfall. 
We do not blame the perfumers of Paris, for la¬ 
belling one of their compounds “ New mown hay,” 
nor wonder at its popularity with the Broadway 
belles, if it equals the genuine article. 
It is worth our while, at this culminating point 
of the year, to pause amid the ripening fruits, and 
the ingathering of the grain and hay harvests, and 
contemplate the fullness of our blessings. Would 
that we could see them near at hand, as they re¬ 
ally are, rather than afar off, as they are not in 
the wilderness of the West, or in the climes of 
perpetual Summer. As a class, farmers have 
not half the blessings they are fairly entitled to, 
by virtue of the climate and their position in so¬ 
ciety as producers. They grow wood for fuel, and 
yet multitudes have not even a shade tree about 
their dwellings. They raise the cream for our 
strawberries, while not one in a hundred ofthern 
have any strawberry bed of their own. They 
have plenty of land and manure, and yet a good 
