I J oetry by Miss It. 3S1. Phillips. 
Mineral Springs, Strathpeffer, Scotland. 
I descended the hill, and after joining my 
friends at the Strathpeffer, visited the Spa, in the 
company of my old friend, the minister of Alness. 
The thorough identity of the powerful effluvium 
that fills the pump-room, with that of a muddy sea 
bottom laid bare in warm weather by the tide, is, 
to the dweller on the sea coast, very striking,—it is 
identity, not mere resemblance. In most cases, the 
organic substances undergo great changes in the 
bowels of the earth. 
The mineral matter of the Caithness ichthyo- 
lites, exists, for instance, as a hard, black, insolu¬ 
ble bitumen, which I have used oftener than once 
the vegetable mould of the Coal 
tie stream - let free; On - ward flows the no - ble ri - ver. Till it min 
2. From the mind of man im - mor - tal, Soar - ing u$ - ward in its flight: Burst - ing through each bond and bar - rier, That de - tained it long in night 
as sealing wax 
Measures, has been converted into a fire-clay, so 
altered in organic pabulum, animal and vegetable— 
whence it derived its fertility—that, even when laid 
open for years to the meliorating effects of weather 
and the visits of winged seeds, it will not be found 
bearing a single spike or leaf of green. But here, 
in smell at least, that ancient mud swam over by 
the Diplopterus andtlieDiplacanthus, and in which 
the Coccosteus and Pterichthys burrowed, has 
undergone no change. The soft bog has become 
solid rock, but its odoriferous qualities remain 
unaltered. I next visited an excavation a few 
hundred yards on the upper side of the pump 
room, in which the gray, fetid breccia of the Strath 
has been quarried for dykebuildihg, and examined 
the rock with some degree of care, without, how¬ 
ever, detecting in it a single plate or scale. De¬ 
tached scales and spines, however, if carefully 
sought for in the various openings of the valley, 
might still be found in the original lamime of the 
fragments. They must have been amazingly abun¬ 
dant in it once; for so largely saturated is the rock 
with the organic matter into which they have been 
resolved, that when struck by the hammer the im¬ 
palpable dust set loose sensibly affects the organs 
of taste, and appeals very strongly to those of 
smell. It is through this saturated rock that the 
mineral springs take their course. Even the sur¬ 
face waters of the valley as they pass over it con¬ 
tract in a perceptible degree its peculiar taste and 
odor. With a little more time to spare, I would 
fain have made this breccia of the Old Red Sand¬ 
stone the subject of a few simple experiments, 
I would have ground it into powder and tried upon 
it the effect both of cold and hot infusion. Por¬ 
tions of the water are sometimes carried in casks 
and bottles to a considerable distance, but it is 
quite possible that a little of the rock, to which the 
water owes its qualities, might, when treated in 
this way, have all the effects of a considerable 
quantity of the spring. 
It might be of some interest, too, to ascertain its 
qualities when crushed as a soil, or its effect on other 
soils. Whether, for instance, like the old sterile soils 
of the carboniferous period, it has lost through its 
rock-change the fertilizing properties which it once 
possessed, or whether it still retains them, like 
some of the coprolitic beds of the Oolite and Green 
Sand, and might not, in consequence, be used as* 
manure. 
In mentioning at the dinner table of my friend 
my scheme of infusing rock in order to produce Spa 
water, I referred to the circumstance that the Bel- 
emite of our Liasie deposits, when ground into 
powder, imparts to boiling water a peculiar taste 
and smell, and that the infusion, taken in very 
small quantities, sensibly atfects both palate and 
stomach; and I suggested that Belemite water, 
deemed sovereign of old—when the Belemite was 
regarded as a thunderbolt in the cure of bewitched 
cattle—might be in reality medicinal, and that the 
ancient superstition might thus embody, as ancient 
superstitions notunfrequently do, a nucleus of fact. 
The charm, I added, might amount to no more 
than simply the administration of a medicine to 
sick cattle that did harm in no case, and good at 
times.— IIugu Miller’s “Hambies of a Geologist.” 
Acclimating a Plow. 
The other day we were riding past a large 
farm, and were much gratified at a device of the 
owner for the preservation of his tools. A good 
plow, apparently new in the spring, had been left 
in one corner of the field, standing in the furrow, 
just where, four months before, the boy had finished 
his stint. Probably the timber needed seasoning — 
it was certainly getting it. Perhaps it was left out 
for acclimation. May-be the farmer left it there to 
save time, in the hurry of the spring work, in drag¬ 
ging it from the shed. Perhaps he covered the 
share to keep it from the elements, and save it from 
rusting. Or, again, perhaps he is troubled with 
neighbors that borroiv, and had left it where it 
would be convenient for them. He might, at least, 
have built a little shed over it. Can any one tell 
what a farmer leaves a plow out a whole season for? 
It is barely possible that he was an Irishman, and 
had planted for a spring crop of plows. 
After we got to sleep that night, we dreamed a 
dream. We went into that man’s barn; boards 
were kicked off, partitions were half broken down, 
racks broken, floor a foot deep with manure, hay 
trampled under foot and wasted, grain squandered. 
The wagon had not been hauled under the shed, 
though it was raining. The harness was scattered 
about — hames in one place, the breeching in 
another—the lines were used for halters. We went 
to the house. A shed stood hard by, in which a 
family wagon was kept for wife and daughters to 
go to town in. The hens had appropriated it as a 
roost, and however plain it was once, it was orna¬ 
mented now, inside and out. 
3. In the fu - ture stretch - ing for - ward, No ho - ri - zon we can see; Bound - less as the fields of hea - ven, Bright and glo - rious it may be 
ving with our heart and hand 
our stand: Be for truth the rea 
On * ward, speak un - num - bered voi - ces, From the wide ere - a - tion round, From the dim and dis - tant a - ges, With the chains of er - ror bound 
sent Tell what wil - ling hands have done, And of what, with strong en - dea - vor, In the fu - ture 
Shall we in earth’s vine - yard slum - ber; In our lives no ta - blet rear; Be like bub - bles on the o - cean, Rise to burst and dis - ap - peart 
On - ward! let it be our watch - word: E - ver high - er seek to climb. On-ward! let our lives e’er e - cho From each pass - ing step of time 
seven hundred or a thousand flies per day, and the 
other birds are equally useful in their respective 
spheres. Nothing was made in vain, especially 
the birds, whose presence and cheerful music ani¬ 
mates and enlivens the scenery of earth. 
When “ the morning stars sang together,” these 
aerial ministrels undoubtedly performed a grand 
oratario, in the bowers of Eden, the bird of Para¬ 
dise presiding as chief director to the musical 
throng, whose enchanting melodies were in har¬ 
mony with the most grand and imposing event re¬ 
corded in the annals of the Universe. 
When spring returns she is accompanied by these 
, tiny songsters, whose rich and varied melody fill 
the air, while old Boreas retires to his arctic home. 
Aurora’s approach is announced by a prelude from 
the sylvan songsters, while nature echos with more 
than dulcet symphonies her greeting to the orb of 
day. The farmer is welcomed to the field by the 
songs of the robin and lark, while the thrush sits 
upon the top-most bough of some monarch of the 
forest, and gives utterance to the exuberant feel¬ 
ings of his nature in a clear, sweet and eloquent 
song, interspersed with brilliant variations, that 
never fails to delight his auditors. The birds form 
a charming link in the great chain of animated be¬ 
ing, that cannot be broken with impunity, for, 
“From nature’s chain, whatever link we strike, 
Tenth or ten thousandth breaks the chain alike.” 
N. B. Ament. 
Thus, I argue that for a man to be a farmer in 
ihe-tme sense of the word, he must direct his mind 
toward Ihis one object. Yet this does not hinder 
the development of the mind; by no means. As 
I said before, he must study diligently the “ beau¬ 
tiful” in the great book of Nature, and all subjects 
relative to the occupation of his choice; and if for 
his motto he has “ Progress and Improvement,” he 
will expand the better part of his nature, and he 
will drink deep from the fount of knowledge and 
wisdom which the Creator has placed in his 
hands. 
Yet, again; can a man in the employment of a 
farmer be a student? (I think this the case of 
Yinton.) If I understand by the word student 
the following of any prescribed course of study, I 
think not, for want of time; for when a man en¬ 
gages to labor for another, he expects, of course, 
that his time will be spent to his (the farmer’s) 
best interests, and 
“ When ruddy morning’s broad day light 
Bids man to labor go,” 
he must be vp and doing. At least it is so in this 
part of the country; and when Night throws her 
gloomy shadow over the earth, we welcome “ tired 
nature’s sweet restorer, balmy sleep.” Yet we 
find a few moments for reading and to gather in¬ 
tellectual food to digest while at work. 
York, Livingston Co., N. Y. D. 
pots, and several that were not cooking. As we 
were meditating whether to enter, such a squall 
arose from a quarreling man and woman, that we 
awoke—and lo ! it was a dream. So that the man 
who left his plow out all the season, may live in the 
neatest house in the county, for all that we know; 
only, was it not strange that we should have 
dreamed all this from just seeing a plow left out in 
the furrow?— Henrt Ward Beecher’s “Fruit, 
I lowers and Farming. 
Secret of Pulpit Eloquence. 
The real orator should have but what is ti-ue 
in view; he should blot himself out in presence of 
the truth and make it alone appear,- 
WORK AND STUDY. 
-as happens 
naturally, spontaneously, whenever he is pro¬ 
foundly impressed by it, and identifies himself 
with it, heart and mind. Then he grows like it, 
great, mighty, and dazzling. It is no longer he 
who lives, it is the truth which in him lives and 
acts; his language is truly inspired;, the man 
vanishes in the virtue of the Almighty who mani¬ 
fests himself by Ilis organ,—and this is the speak¬ 
er’s noblest, his true glory. Then are wrought 
the miracles of eloquence which turn men’s wills 
and change their souls. Such is the end at which 
the Christian orator ought to aim. He should try 
to dwarf himself, to annihilate himself, as it were, 
in his discourses, in order to allow Him, whose 
minister he is, to speak and to work,—a result 
oftenest attained when the speaker thinks he has 
done nothing, on account of his too fervent and 
too natural desire to do a great deal. 
Oh, you who have taken the Lord for your in¬ 
heritance, and who prefer the light and service of 
heaven to all the honors and all the works of earth, 
—you, particularly, who are called to the Apostle- 
ship, and who glow with the desire to announce 
to men the word of God, remember that here, 
more than anywhere else, virtue consists in disin¬ 
terestedness, and power in abnegation of self. 
Mt. Morris, June, 1859. 
BOYS, DON’T KILL THE BIRDS. 
THE SUPPLY OP STREAMS. 
“ The robin red-breast till of late had rest, 
And children sacred held a martin’s nest.” 
At the present time the animal kingdom seems 
to be gaining the ascendency over the vegetable, 
in the form of insects that vie with each other in 
their depredations upon vegetable products. A 
few years ago, the various kinds of grain, fruit, 
and flowers, were grown with little difficulty from 
that source, but now, almost everything that is 
planted or sown in the garden or field, is attacked 
by some villainous insect, that prevents the natural 
growth and development of the plant, and these 
pests of vegetation, are alarmingly on the increase; 
“ see their numbers, how they swell.” They are 
already formidable, and if they are permitted to 
proceed much further in their conquests upon the 
vegetable domain, it is evident, that they will sub- 
and Ceres will be despoiled of 
contributors. Rain falling upon the earth is 
either absorbed by it or trickling through it, drop 
by drop, each drop uniting with other drops, until, 
forming a small stream, it bursts forth into what 
is called a spring, and from thence flows on the 
surface; or when the rain falls very fast, runs off' 
immediately, sometimes causing floods. The idea 
that the water from the sea filters through and 
forms the source of the Mississippi and the waters 
of the great lakes, is absurd. 
There is also another wrong idea about inland 
seas. These are salt-water lakes, having no outlet; 
and herein lies the reason of the fact of their be¬ 
ing salt. The streams running into them carry 
along, in a dissolved state, salt and other mineral 
ingredients of the soil, which are left on the evap¬ 
oration of the water. The evaporation goes on as 
fast as it comes in. This will also account for the 
saltuess of the ocean. Thus we see, in the con¬ 
stant circulation of the waters, in the rain falling 
upon and refreshing the earth, filling our springs 
and water-courses, the hand of the Creator, sup¬ 
plying one of the most important demands of na¬ 
ture and of man. The creation did not stop with 
the first seven days, but through the laws of Na¬ 
ture then established, has been continually going 
on, and is still going on, and will go on to the 
end of time. 
■Washington, Conn., June, 1859. 
vert the kingdoi 
her crown. 
The most prominent cause of this embargo upon 
vegetable nature, has been the indiscriminate and 
cruel massacre of the birds, for the last few years, 
by boys and itinerant sportsmen, who have de¬ 
stroyed yearly, tens of thousands of the insect-eat¬ 
ing birds, in consequence of which, some species 
have become nearly extinct. If boys must arm 
and equip for sporting, they should retire to some 
back field, or to the margin of some swamp, and 
shoot at a mark, and the ones that return without 
injuring their comrades, or molesting the birds, 
ought to be called the best felloios ! 
The birds are the natural enemies of insects, and 
they seem to have been created to keep the odious 
vermin within proper limits; and if the moral and 
intellectual faculties of Young America, remain so 
obtuse, as to cause their possessors to take pleasure 
in pestroying the singing birds we should have 
stringent laws enacted for their protection. 
The crows are perhaps the most useful of the 
feathered tribe, for they destroy worms, grub3, 
moles, mice, beetles, &c., through the summer, 
besides removing the putrid flesh from dead ani¬ 
mals in the forests and fields, thus preserving the 
purity of the air, that would otherwise become de¬ 
structive to animal life. It has been ascertained 
same time,” is a question which seems to excite 
the minds of some of the Young Ruralists; and I 
must say that I do not quite agree with Duane, of 
P-. We would ask the question, Can a man 
be a farmer without being at the same time a stu¬ 
dent? I would judge from D.’s argument, that 
farming required nothing but the physical nature 
of man, for we understand a farmer to be one who 
manages a farm, and that his intellectual nature, 
as he terms it, would be free to cultivate the arts 
and sciences. Not so. I cannot conceive how a 
man can be a farmer without bringing his intellect¬ 
ual capacities to bear upon it, equally with his 
physical; or for a man to engage in any business 
profitably, without exercising his mind toward 
the object, particularly a farmer, who must study, 
and study diligently, the laws of Nature. Again, 
can a man be a student at law or medicine, and at 
the same time a farmer ? I say he cannot, for his 
mind will be divided. He will either do injustice 
to the one or the other; he will have to entrust his 
work on the farm to a hireling, and “ a hireling 
careth not for the sheep;” or, as Poor Richard says, 
“ He that at the plow would thrive. 
Must either hold, himself, or drive.” 
We peeped into the 
smoke-house, but of all the “ fixings that we ever 
saw! A Chinese Museum is nothing to it. Onions, 
soap-grease, squashes, hogs’ bristles, soap, old 
iron, kettles, a broken spinning-wheel, a churn, a 
grindstone, bacon, hams, washing-tubs, a barrel of 
salt, bones with the meat half cut off', scraps of 
leather, dirty bags, a chest of Indian meal, old 
boots, smoked sausages, the ashes and brands that 
remained since the last “ smoke, ” stumps of 
brooms, half a barrel of rotten apples, together 
with rats, bacon bugs, earwigs, sowbugs and other 
vermin which collect in damp dirt. We started 
lor the house; the window near the door had 
twelve lights, two of wood, two of hats, four of 
— 
—f*—(— 
F 
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