AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
ADAPTED TO THE 
TT 1 arm, Garden, and. Honseliold. 
AGRICULTURE IS THE MOST HEALTHFUL, THE MOST USEFUL, AND THE MOST NOBLE EMPLOYMENT OF MAN —Washington, 
ORANGE JUDD, A. M., 
EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR. 
ESTABLISHED IN 1848. 
$1.00 PER ANNUM, IN ADVANCE. 
SINGLE NUMBERS 10 CENTS. 
NEW-YORK, JANUARY, 1860. 
VOL XIX.—No. I.] 
OPOfficc at 189 Watcr-st., (Near Fulton-st.) 
^Contents, Terms, «fcc., on rmpfes 28-32. 
[COPT RIGHT SECURED.] 
Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1859, 
by Orange Judd, in the Clerk’s Office of the District 
Court of the United States for the Southern District of 
New-York. 
5^ N. If.—Every Journal is invited freely to copy 
any and all desirable articles with credit, and no use or 
advantage will oe taken of the Copy-Right, wherever 
each article or illustration is duly accredited to the 
American Agriculturist. ORANGE JUDD, Proprietor. 
American Agriculturist in ®cnuon. 
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, singly or in clubs. 
J anuary. 
Thou hold’st the sun 
A prisoner in the yet undawning east, 
Shortening his journey between morn and noon, 
And hurrying him impatient of his stay 
Down to the rosy west; but kingly still, 
Compensating his loss with added hours 
Of social converse and instructive ease, 
And gathering, at short notice, in one group, 
The family dispersed by daylight and its cares. 
I crown thee king of intimate delights, 
Fireside enjoyments, homo born happiness, 
And all the comforts that the lowly roof 
Of undisturbed retirement, and the hours 
Of long uninterrupted evening know. —Cowper. 
No theme in our English poetry is more fre¬ 
quently, or more charmingly handled than the 
fireside. It is the good old English fireside—the 
blazing brands of the farmer’s hearth that they 
sing. They lived before stoves were invented, 
or furnaces had usurped the place of fire in the 
farmer’s home. The liveliest imagination would 
find it difficult to throw any poetic charms around 
these dark, dumb heaters. Our fathers brought 
over the wood fire with them, and found here 
abundant aliment to feed it for two centuries. 
Most of the generation now passing off the stage 
remember it, among the happy visions of their 
childhood—the ample fire-place, the large back¬ 
log and its rider, the andirons or fire-dogs, long 
enough to accommodate a small sled load of 
wood, the big fore stick, and the blazing, sputter¬ 
ing billets behind, the circle of happy faces around 
the hearth, the dancing shadows on the wall. All 
these images come back to us, pictures of delight, 
as we gather around the Winter fireside. 
With multitudes it is only a relic of the past. 
The stove or furnace has closed up the fire-place, 
and the poetry of house-warming has gone. The 
fire has no longer a side to it, and we have no 
need to turn, first one side, and then the other to 
the blaze, to keep warm. The heat is made ubi¬ 
quitous in every corner of the room, and the only 
circle formed in the Winter evening, is around 
the center table, where all the household gather 
for their social enjoyments. The open wood fire 
still exists, but it is only in new settlements, or 
obscure places, that cast iron has not yet invaded. 
But all that was essential in the open fire place, 
is retained in its successor. The fire, though con¬ 
cealed, gives out its genial warmth, and becomes 
the rallying place for the household. What we 
have lost in the cheerful blaze, we have gained 
in lights. The tow wick candle, dim and smoky, 
has been succeeded by lamps of various pattern, 
fed by animal oils, coal oil, etc.,diffusing a steady, 
brilliant light, turning the night into day, and 
making reading and domestic labor as pleasant as 
in the day-time. 
The fireside is one of the happy accidents, that 
has molded the character of the Anglo Saxon 
race. The cheerless Winter has driven them 
into this retreat, and kept them under its influ¬ 
ence for at least six months of the year. The 
love of home, the strong passion for land 
upon which to build a home, and the virtues of 
domestic life, which mark the race, are traceable 
to the fireside. The children are kept longer and 
more immediately under the influence of their 
parents, and domestic enjoyments become more 
a necessity and a study for both parents and 
children. 
These bleak, cheerless days naturally turn our 
thoughts within, to home enjoyments and duties. 
There is a pleasure in the contrast between Sum¬ 
mer and Winter, each giving increasing zest to 
the other We have now cold instead of heat, a 
mantle of virgin white, instead of the universal 
green, and rest instead of activity. Following 
the hint oi the season, how shall we make the 
most of this in-door life 1 It should not be wast¬ 
ed, and become a season of mental inactivity. 
A great deal depends upon the surroundings of 
our domestic life, the place in which the family 
spends these Winter evenings. We are creatures 
of associaton and habit, and social and mental 
cultivation can not go on equally well in all 
places. Too many farmers live in the kitchen, so 
that the associations of their daily toil are never, 
for a moment, removed from their waking hours. 
If man were a brute, and had no other office in 
life than muscular labor, this arrangement would 
be good enough. But he has a spiritual nature, 
and other aims in life than the daily industries 
by which he gains his bread, and it is meet that 
he should have time and place for the cultivation 
of his mind and heart. 
Nothing but the stern necessities of poverty 
should force the farmer and his family to live 
in the same room where the cooking and domes¬ 
tic drudgery of the household are done. There 
should be a living room, away from the steam of 
ovens and The sights of pots and kettles, conse¬ 
crated to rest, to social enjoyment and mental 
cultivation. Let it be fitted up in the most com¬ 
fortable and tasteful style that the farmei’s 
[NEW SERIES—No. 156. 
means admit of. Let it be painted and papered, 
and carpeted, and furnished with a mirror and 
bookcase, and especially let it be well warmed 
and lighted. It should be made so cosy and at¬ 
tractive, that the boys shall have no temptation 
to spend their evenings abroad. 
The ruin of many a youth begins in the want of 
such a room in the farmer’s home, or in the fact 
that it is never used. He is too parsimonious to 
afford fire and lights for his children, and they 
early form the habit of spending their evenings 
at the neighboring village, in the grog shop, or 
some place of vicious resort. Our children have 
social natures, and if w r e do not provide enter¬ 
tainment for them at home, they will seek it 
abroad. The expenses of such a living room 
need not be large after it is once fitted up. But 
were it ten times what is necessary, it would be far 
more economical than vicious habits in children. 
Here, in this cheerful well furnished apartment, 
let parents and children gather for social enjoy¬ 
ment and cultivation. What can be more delight¬ 
ful than this family gathering, when the toils of 
the day are over! Here is one spot consecrated 
to rest, where the cares of the world do not in¬ 
vade his peace. Here the wife and mother 
reigns supreme, diffusing her own neatness, 
cheerfulness, and joy, through the family group. 
Here the farmer puts off his cowhide boots and 
working garb, and forgets the labors of the field 
in the tender assiduities of the husband and the 
father. Here he enjoys his manhood and citizen¬ 
ship as he reads the news of the day, or studies 
the science of his calling. 
It is the privilege of every farmer to make his 
home the center of attraction to his household, a 
nursery not only of the bodies of his children, but 
of all those graces and virtues that adorn our hu¬ 
manity. It becomes us to remember, as wo 
reach another landmark in our pilgrimage, the 
new year, that the farm exists for the sake of the 
family, that manhood and womanhood are its no¬ 
blest products, the true aim of all its industries. 
We do not fulfill the end of our existence in mak¬ 
ing the soil better, and in stocking it with a bet¬ 
ter race of animals ; we want to make our own 
race better, to bring in a higher style of manhood, 
with a fuller social development, and a more gen¬ 
erous mental culture upon the farm. Make the 
fireside what it ought to be, and we shall suffer 
no loss in the departure of the genial skies of 
Summer. We can welcome the chill breezes of 
Winter, its howling storms, its biting frosts, if it 
make our hearts warmer, our heads wiser, and 
fit us the better to discharge the duties of life. 
We double all the cares of life by pondering 
over them. We increase our troubles by griev¬ 
ing over them. A scratch becomes a wound, a 
slight an injury, a jest an insult, a small peril a 
great danger, and a slight sickness often ends 
in death, by the brooding fears of the invalid. 
