THE CULTIVATOR. 
205 
Our author next proceeds to speak of what he 
denominates the “ Patho-protean malady,” as occur¬ 
ring in this septenniad, and as a master-malady of 
recent origin. “ No name, no description of it,” he 
remarks, “is found in the records of antiquity, or 
even of the middle ages. It is clearly the offspring 
of civilization and refinement—of sedentary habits 
and intellectual culture—of physical deterioration 
and mental pertrubation—of excitement and exhaus¬ 
tion.” * * * “ Though millions have felt it, no 
one can describe it—though thousands have studied 
it, no one has been able to frame for it an accurate , 
definition. And no wonder. It is a pkoteus which 
assumes the form, and usurps the attributes of a - 
most every malady, mental and corporeal, that has 
scourged the human race since the creation of the 
world.” * * * 
“There are numerous causes of this modern scourge, 
which cannot well be classed under the heads of either 
the morale or the physique. They partake of both. 
Such, for instance, are the habits and pursuits of a 
people. In this country commerce and manufactures 
preponderate over agriculture and pasturage—and there¬ 
fore sedentary predominate over active habits. The 
factory and the counting house are not only more un¬ 
healthy, in a ■physical point of view, than the hills and 
the vales, but they are much more detrimental to the 
moral constitution of man. The labor is thrown on 
the head and the hand—and that in bad air—rather 
than on the body and legs, under the canopy of heaven. 
This difference contributes largely to the support of 
the protean malady, especially when aided by the 
competition of trade, the animosity of politics, and the 
rancor of religious bigotry. These and various other 
moral and physical agents have, unfortunately, in¬ 
creased since the termination of a long and sanguinary 
conflict with the common enemy, during which inter¬ 
nal dissentions were swallowed up in national enthusi¬ 
asm, and redundancy of population was kept in check 
by the waste of war! Peace, therefore, with all its 
blessings and comforts, is not without its alloy. Our 
gigantic struggles with foreign foes are now transmit¬ 
ted into fierce contentions between opposing factions. 
Every evil passion is enlisted in this domestic strife.— 
The forum, the bench, the hustings—nay even the pul¬ 
pit—pour forth, like volcanoes, the destructive elements 
of discord, hatred and animosity, among all ranks and 
classes of society.” 
“The pith of nearly all that has been written on 
hygiene, or the prevention of diseases—and of the 
protean disorder among the rest, might be included 
under two heads—almost in two words —temperance 
and exercise. But temperance means much more than 
mere moderation in eating and drinking. It compre¬ 
hends moderation in all our pleasures and enjoyments, 
mental and corporeal—it prescribes restraint on our pas¬ 
sions—limitation of our desires—but, above all, limita¬ 
tion of our ambition. 
“ Our physical wants, like the trade winds, vary not 
materially, in direction or force; not so the passions.— 
They are the tempests of life, which too often set at 
defiance the sails and the rudder, driving the vessel 
upon shoals and quicksands, and ultimately wrecking 
her altogether!” 
* * * “ But it would be wrong to pass over the 
various miseries rusulting from the “pleasures of the 
table.” The intellectual and sensual banquet has too 
many charms for soul and body, not to lead into almost 
daily excess, every class of society, from the savage 
to the sage! Even here the immaterial tenant seduces 
its material tenement into woful sufferings. We hear 
a great deal, indeed, of “the feast of reason and the 
flow of soul:” but, for my own part, I have too often 
observed this intellectual festival to take place where 
‘ Malignant Chemia scowls, 
And mingles passion with the nectar’d bowls.’ 
It is more curious than consolatory to scrutinize, with 
philosophic eye, the workings of turtle, champaign 
and conviviality on those fierce faculties with -which 
metaphysicians have invested the immortal principles 
of man. Without diving into these mysterious and 
dangerous investigations, I shall only remark, that 
every faculty of the mind, as well as every function of 
the body, comes under the influence of the above men¬ 
tioned material agents, and in a manner that is well 
worthy of investigation, in regard to the immediate sub¬ 
jects of this essay —health and happiness. 
“In the ‘ Feast of Reason,’ as it is called, which is 
generally accompanied by food of a grosser kind, we 
find the energies of the mind called forth—one would 
almost say created —where they were previously dor¬ 
mant. Sallies of wit and humor—sentiments of noble 
philanthropy, exalted morality, and even fervent reli¬ 
gion, spring forth at the festive board, which lay in 
abeyance till that hour! It is then that friendship 
opens our heart,—the miser his purse,—bigotry widens 
the circle of its charity—the debtor forgets his creditor 
—the creditor forgives his debtor—the slave breathes 
the air of freedom—penury becomes possessed of tem¬ 
porary or, at least, ideal wealth—and stranger still, 
riches are invested with momentary happiness ! 
“ Are these remarkable phenomena of the mind, un¬ 
connected with, or independent of, any corresponding 
phenomena in our physical organization ? Far from it! 
Savory viands and generous wines stimulate the mate¬ 
rial organs, accellerate the circulation, and call forth 
the mere animal spirits, before they elicit the intellec¬ 
tual corruscations. And as excitement of the body 
produces excitement of the mind, so passions of the 
mind kindle up excitation in the corporeal fabric. On 
the stage and at the bar, passion is more frequently 
feigned than felt; but in the pulpit and the senate, 
religious fervor and political disputation will call forth 
the most violent agitation of the body through the me¬ 
dium of the mind. Painting, poetry, music and orato¬ 
ry, cannot raise emotions in the mind, till they have 
first excited certain nerves of sense, and, through them, 
the very brain itself—the organ or instrument of the 
mind. This is the grand consideration, as far as health 
and happiness are concerned. It establishes this im¬ 
portant axiom,—little understood or attended to by man¬ 
kind at large—namely, that whenever the stream of life, 
whether moral or physical, mental or corporeal, is ac- 
cellerated in its course beyond the nominal or medium 
current, it must experience a corresponding retarda¬ 
tion in turn—and these inequalities in the speed of the 
stream must inevitably damage, sooner or later, the 
banks between which it is enclosed. There is not an 
axiom in physics or physiology more certain than this 
—that the even tenor of the stream prolongs life, pre¬ 
serves health, and maintains happiness; while, on the 
other hand the strong excitements, whether of body 
or mind, afford temporary enjoyment, at the expense 
of permanent sufferings. It is true that the elasticity 
of youth and health, renders the penalties of indul¬ 
gence short at the beginning, and amply repaid by the 
pleasures of the feast, whether intellectual or corpo¬ 
real. But the periods of enjoyment gradually shorten, 
while those of pain are protracted, till at length a ba¬ 
lance is struck that awakens the delinquent to a fright¬ 
ful survey of the real condition in which he is placed! 
It is then, in general, too late to retrace our steps. 
“Now the besetting sin of the present generation is 
not that of intemperance in eating and drinking—but 
rather in that of reading and thinking. And why is 
this ? When the intellectual powers are much exerted, 
the physical powers, and more especially the powers 
of the digestive organs, are weakened. Hence we 
have neither the relish for gluttony nor inebriation, nor 
have we the ability to bear their effects. Add to this, 
that the exercise of the rational faculties dissuades 
from intemperance, independent of withdrawing the 
power of indulging in it. In rude states of society, 
where the higher functions of the mind are but little 
employed, the sensual gratifications of the palate and 
stomach constitute the principal pleasures of life—and 
the organs being strong, these.pleasures are exquisite¬ 
ly enjoyed, and borne with comparative facility. The 
coal-heaver, on the banks of the Thames, whose brain 
is nearly as inert at the sable load under which his 
muscles crack, will drink ten or twelve quarts of por¬ 
ter, besides gin, in one day, and go home as sober as a 
judge at night. But let the Judge himself, whose ac¬ 
tive brain absorbs all energy from his muscles, try this 
experiment! 
“Here, then, is the true solution of the problem— 
the real causes why the present generation are more 
temperate than their ancestors—namely, disrelish for, 
and inability to bear intemperance, as compared with 
those of the olden time. But the effects of intemper¬ 
ance have not diminished in proportion. On the con¬ 
trary, they have multiplied prodigiously. What was 
ultra-abstemiousness a hundred years ago, would now 
be destructive excess. The habits and manners of the 
hardy Highlanders, in the days of Waverly and the 
wassail bowl, would ill suit the natives of Glenco and 
Tobermory in the present day. Tea, politics and steam, 
have wonderfully impaired the digestive organs of the 
Celt and Sassenach laird since the days of Bradwar- 
dine and Tully-veolan, though, some of their descend¬ 
ants appear to have, even yet, their stomachs lined 
with copper, and proof against the fiery impressions of 
the most potent Glenlivit! 
“ Thus, then, a nervous temperament—a morbid sen¬ 
sibility—pervades the whole frame of society, more or 
less-a supersensitiveness that inflicts pains and penalties 
on trifling and occasional indiscretions, which used for¬ 
merly to be levied only upon habitual and excessive in¬ 
dulgence ! There are many millions in this country to 
whom food is physic of the bitterest kind—and to whom 
physic is daily as indispensable as food! To the lux¬ 
urious epicure it may seem incredible that, within 
the boundaries of the British isles, there are millions, 
among the opulent classes, who would give half their 
wealth to be able to do without food altogether—who 
would gladly give up the pleasure of eating, for an im¬ 
munity from the misery of digesting. Incredible as 
this may seem, it is nevertheless strictly true. 
“I wish I could state, consistently with truth, that 
the punishment falls exclusively on the intemperate— 
that the gourmand is the only victim, in the end, of in¬ 
digestion, and all its indescribable horrors. But I am 
compelled to aver that this penalty falls far more fre¬ 
quently on the innocent than on the guilty—on those 
who labor with their heads for the good of society, ra¬ 
ther than on those who consume the fruits of the earth 
in luxury and idleness—on the unfortunate far more of¬ 
ten than on the offender.” 
We invite the tillers of the soil, who have the 
healthiest employment given toman—who may, with¬ 
out prejudice, blend the pleasures of intellect with 
the healthful robust labors of the farm—to peruse 
the preceding article with attention—and to remem¬ 
ber that it comes from one of the most eminent phy¬ 
sicians of the day. How many young men, whose 
health is considered too delicate for farm labor—are 
sent to studious and sedentary employments—the 
very situations, above all others, calculated to aggra¬ 
vate the malady, and to shorten life! How many 
are there, who, under a mistaken notion of adding 
to their happiness in life, are sent from the farm to 
the counter, the bar, the pulpit, &c. with the al¬ 
most moral certainty of rendering them the prema¬ 
ture victims of disease and wretchedness ! Study, 
it is here seen, is deleterious, when its effects are not 
counteracted by due exercise in the open air, and by 
temperance in the indulgence of the appetites and 
passions. The farm—the farm—is the place, above 
all others, where the blessings of health, and the 
pleasures of intellectual enjoyments, are to be found 
most happily combined. 
Exculpatory. —From the information we have re¬ 
ceived, we feel bound to exculpate the Rev. Mr. Abeel 
from any sinister motives in the part he has taken in 
getting up common school libraries. On the contra¬ 
ry, we are assured, that he has devoted much time 
and money to promote the undertaking, without the 
expectation of ultimate reward. 
CORRESPO NDE N CE. 
Cutting Com Stalk Fodder—the Grab Worm- 
Doctoring Fruit Trees—Root Culture. 
Williamstown, Mass. Dec. 20th, 1838. 
Hon. J. Buel —Dear Sir—I have not the happiness 
either to bear the honorable title, or to share the envia¬ 
ble labors, of the professional farmer: yet, having been 
accustomed in early life to the occupations of the field, 
for which I still retain a relish, and having made it for 
several years my relaxation to supervise the general 
conduct of a little farm, whose details are carried out by 
proxy, my sympathies are in a measure with the culti¬ 
vators of the soil, and I feel a sufficient degree of inte¬ 
rest in whatever pertains to the improvement of any 
branch of the great agricultural economy. That mate¬ 
rial advances have been made within the last few years 
in this most ancient and important of all the arts, I 
think, admits not of a doubt; and that the most consi¬ 
derable agent in effecting such a change, has been the 
prevalence of mutual information during this period, I 
hold to be alike unquestionable. 
Entertaining opinions like these, it will not be thought 
strange if I feel an inclination to contribute my “mite,” 
(if indeed I turn not out to be more miteless than the 
“widow,”) towards the still further promotion of what 
has been by some denominated “book-farming.” It is 
in compliance with such an inclination that I submit to 
your inspection the following items, the “raw material” 
of which 1 find in my “Farmers’ Journal.” If you 
deem them of consequence enough to merit a place in 
your columns, please to present them to youi readers ; 
if otherwise, give them a place among such other 
“ crums” (unfit for “the dogs,”) as you cast under your 
table, and pardon me for inflicting upon you the misery 
of giving them a bootless perusal. 
Having occasion, about the middle of November, 1836, 
to pass through your city, and stopping for an hour at 
Bement’s Hotel, I had an accidental opportunity of wit¬ 
nessing the operation of a “Green’s Straw Cutter;” 
and so well was I pleased at first sight with its execu¬ 
tion, that I proceeded immediately to Thorburn’s and 
made a purchase. Feeling a little bit streaked, as 
“ Slickville” would say, after getting it home, lest some 
of the more “knowing ones” among my neighbors, 
should take it into their “bump of self-esteem” to under¬ 
rate my wisdom in parting with “thirty round dollars 
for a little machine,” which Sampson would have pock¬ 
eted just in the way we common folks do a jack-knife. 
I made some haste to get it into effective operation, 
working up hay and straw for my horses, and stalks for 
my cattle. Of this latter article, I had on hand the pro¬ 
duce of some 4\ acres, heavy growth, and I directed my 
man to prepare of it daily a quantity sufficient, for the 
keep (your pardon, Dr. Webster,) of five cows; which 
quantity proved not to vary much from ten bushels, and 
occupied in the preparation from one to one and a half 
hours per day. On this allowance, with pretty uni¬ 
formly a little oat straw in the yard at noon, my cows 
were kept until some time in April, when the supply 
was exhausted. I never wish to have my cows winter 
better. Of the fodder thus prepared, (cut simply, and 
neither brined, salted nor steamed,) and fed to them in 
mangers in their stalls, they consumed, by measure, live 
parts out of six ; the rejected portion consisting entirely 
of the largest outs. These were thrown daily into the 
yard, as refuse; a measure to be placed entirely to the 
score of mismanagement, for had they been left in the 
mangers, and the allowance shortened a little, I am 
since convinced, they would have totally disappeared. 
. At one and a half hours per day, for four months, the 
time consumed in preparing the fodder amounts to seven 
and a half days ; which, at four shillings per day will 
make the expense of cutting $5. The saving in the 
fodder cannot be fairly estimated at less than one-third 
of the whole, or the entire keeping of If cows (so “Col¬ 
burn” cuts up cattle,) for four months. This bein^ equal 
to the keeping of one cow for 6# months may be quickly 
set down at the current value of two tons of good hay 
say $20. Clear profit, $15. But this is not all. The 
improvement of the manure, consequent on this mode of 
feeding the stalks, instead of casting them whole into the 
yard after the common practice, is of itself almost an 
equivalent for all the extra expense. 
