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VOLUME VI. NO. 3.} 
ROCHESTER, N. Y—SATURDAY, JANUARY 20, 
(WHOLE NO. 263. 
UtomTs |lttntl Htto-grokr: 
A QUARTO WEEKLY 
AGRICULTURAL, LITERARY, ft FAMILY JOURNAL. 
CONDUCTED BY D. D. T. MOORE, 
ASSOCIATE EDITORS I 
J. H. BIXBY, T. C. PETERS, EDWARD WEBSTER. 
Special Contributors : 
T. E. Wktmohb, H. C. WiiiTB, H. T. Brooks, L. Wbihsitsj.. 
Ladies’ Port-Folio by Azilk. 
The Rural New-Yorker is designed to be unique and 
beautiful in appearanco, and unsurpassed in Value, Purity 
and Variety of Contents. It3 conductors earnestly labor 
to make it a Roliable Guide on the important Practical 
Subjects connected with the business of thoso whoso 
interests it advocates. It embraces more Agricultural, 
Horticultural, Scientific, Mechanical, Literary and Nows 
Matter, interspersed with many appropriate and beautiful 
Engravings, than any othor paper published in this 
Country,—rendering it a complete Agricultural, Literary 
and Family Newspaper. 
For Terms, and other particulars, see last page. 
PROGRESS AND IMPROVEMENT. 
A.'UV(.WL'UVi/W',/UU'vj‘1.'WVw’(.''./VL'WV 
THE WAR AND ITS EFFECTS. 
Few of the present generation in this coun¬ 
try, haw any adequate idea of the horrors of 
war. Its worst scenes were witnessed by but 
few of all who survive, and were participants 
in, the Revolutionary, or the last war. The 
Mexican war was brought home to our house¬ 
holds only in the loss of friends. The peaceful 
plowshare has long since been driven over 
battle-fields where the sod was moistened with 
the blood of hostile armies, speaking a common 
language, and having a common origin. Brave 
men whose ancestors sleep side by side in many 
a peaceful church-yard in the mother country, 
met upon the plains of Chippewa, the heights 
of Lundy’s Lane, at Fort Erie, New Orleans, 
or on the broad ocean or inland sea, and sought 
each other’s lives with the ferocity of brutes. 
A few live yet to tell the horrors, the sufferings 
of the prisoner, of the sick and wounded. But 
peace is in all our borders, and all the hardship 
and rancorous feeling is forgotten ; and where 
once we met only enemies, now we meet kind 
friends. We arc, therefore, illy prepared to 
feel that interest whicli its magnitude demands 
in the struggle now going on among the great 
nations of the East. Although we are removed 
from all participation in that war, and our 
sons, or brothers, or fathers, cannot be called 
away from home, and subjected to all the casu¬ 
alties of war, (the battle-field, the least of all 
to be dreaded,)—though our taxes are not in¬ 
creased, nor our usual pursuits molested or 
endangered, yet we must be interested in the 
result, be it as it may. 
In a national point of view, it is a most 
unfortunate war, judging from ail human ap¬ 
pearances, for if of long continuance, it may 
materially check immigration. And, instead 
of having our unoccupied lands taken up by 
millions of acres, to make homes for a laboring 
and thriving population, that population will 
be drawn into armies, and wasted and lost in 
the battle-fields of Europe or Asia. Few re¬ 
alize how greatly we are benefited by this in¬ 
flux of labor, nor how much is annually added 
to the real capital of the country thereby. 
If we estimate immigrants at the same rate 
at which slaves are estimated at the South, 
that is the value of the amount of product¬ 
ive labor which they can perform during a life, 
we can readily say that so much has been added 
to the capital of the country. And we believe 
this is a proper view to take of the subject 
The immigration for the past year has boen 
almost three hundred thousand, whereof at 
least two hundred and fifty thousand will be¬ 
come productive laborers. 
The average value of slaves is given at five 
hundred dollars. At this rate of valuation, 
and it is undoubtedly a low one, the addition 
to the solid capital of the country has been, by 
immigration from Europe, not loss than one 
hundred and twenty-five millions of dollars, 
aside from the millions—probably not less than 
from fifteen to twenty—which they brought 
into the country in specie. 
This is but one of the evils, though one of 
great magnitude. All kinds of business de¬ 
pending upon Commerce and Manufactures 
become dcrangod and stagnant, and the only 
class who are not now really suffering in con¬ 
sequence, are the farmers who.are out of deb". 
We are told that peace i 3 to come iu the 
spring. Present appearances would warrant 
such a conclusion, were it not that France 
cannot long remain at peace without a revo¬ 
lution, which would change her government, 
and light the smouldering fires of reform over 
all Europe. The state of peace is a state of 
peril to any European government, except, 
perhaps, that of Russia—and this inclines us 
to the belief that peace is yet afar off. 
One thing is certain, however, and that is, 
that every farmer should endeavor to raise as 
much wheat and corn a 3 possible during the 
coming year. In any event, provisions will 
be wanted, and good prices must be paid, for 
another year at least. But should the war 
continue, our country will be the only point 
upon which the Allies can rely for provisions ; 
and our surplus pork, and beef, and flour, will 
all be carried out of the country at very high 
rates. We hope, therefore, that every acre 
that can be made to bear even a tolerable crop 
of spring wheat or corn, will be sown or plant¬ 
ed ; and should the winter be mild, so that auy 
plowing could be done, now is the time to do 
it, that the wheat may be sown early. 
THE VALUE OF SHADE- 
The effects of shade upon the fertility of the 
soil has been referred to in former volumes, but 
we have recently noticed some new facts on the 
subject. The Germantown Telegraph says:— 
“ Gen. Patterson called our attention to an 
important feature in physical geography, which 
had arrested his attention in passing through 
Tennessee, Kentucky, and other States. It 
was that the northern slopes of mountain 
ranges were more fertile and had deeper soil 
than the southern slopes. One or two other 
members were able to call to mind similar for¬ 
mations. It may be only local; but if gene¬ 
ral, the fact would involve important conside¬ 
rations.” This fact is easily explained, nor is 
it accidental. If he had examined still further, 
he would have found that an eastern exposure, 
all things being equal, is more productive than 
a western one. 
The reason why the northern slopes of 
mountain ranges are more fertile than the 
the southern, is to be found in the fact that the 
rays of the sun do not fall upon them with 
such intensity. They are protected in much 
the same manner as if shaded, without the bad 
effect of actual shade. Being moister and 
cooler the condensation of vapor is greater, and 
hence the dews will always be heavier. This 
aLo accounts for the fertility as well as the 
depth of the soil. The moisture promotes 
vegetation and the vegetation fills the soil with 
roots, and prevents its washing away by heavy 
rains to the same degree as when acted upon 
by the more direct rays of the sun. 
The fact becomes of consequence to those 
who may have occasion to purchase land in the 
hilly or mountainous regions of the south. But 
in the more northern regions, we apprehend a 
southern, or what would be better, a south¬ 
eastern exposure would be found the best 
If irrigation could be commanded, then the 
southern slope should be preferred, as it would 
give more heat, and would thus increase more 
rapidly the vegetation of the plants cultivated. 
MULES AND THEIR MORALS. 
The fine show of Mules at the recent State 
Agricultural Fair in New York City, has 
drawn considerable attention to them as 
animals for the working team on the farm, and 
they have been spoken of as superior to either 
horses or oxen for that purpose. This may be 
possible, but the farmers of the Northern 
States will be very loth to believe it. The 
fact is, we Yankees look both to speed and 
beauty, and take even morals into considera¬ 
tion in choosing the animals we must associate 
with in our daily labors. A mule is a mule, 
even though brought to a high point of per¬ 
fection in size and speed and power. It may 
possess the latter quality, but the two former 
will be lacking, and then, as to looks, it can 
never come near the horse in the estimation of 
the present race of Yankee farmers. 
The American Agriculturist recently gave 
an essay on the breeding, rearing, and uses of 
mule3, aud recommended their employment on 
the farm in preference to the horse. “ A mule,” 
it remarks, “of the same weight of a horse, 
will perform more haul’s of labor in a day ; he 
will live on less food, ealing it quicker and 
generally with an appetite; he will keep in 
better health ; he is less liable to founder from 
either water or grain ; he will bear rougher 
usage ; he will live twice as long : lie will draw 
a heavier load ; he will not balk ; be will labor 
patiently, faithfully, and contiuuedly—in a!! 
these things beyond the horse. The true uses 
of the mule are for slow, continuous toil, and 
for such no animal can compare with him.” 
The essay admits that the objection urged as 
to the want of speed in the mule is well found¬ 
ed, and also as to the general over-rating of 
their power of enduring hard treatment with¬ 
out injury. But the crowning, and it seems to 
us insuperable objection against their introduc¬ 
tion upon the farm lies in their want of moral 
character. They are not only obstinate to a 
proverb, but very mischievous and pugnacious. 
The essay above mentioned concludes with this 
advice to those who are not familiar with the 
domestic habits of the mule:—“ Let those who 
have not constant labor for them, never attempt 
to keep them as a working animal. Sunday 
is about all the leisure time a mule should en¬ 
joy, and even that day he should be in a stable. 
Turn one or more mules into a pasture with 
othor beasts, particularly horses, if the fences 
be not at least seven to eight feet high, and 
strong at that, there is no security that they 
will be found there when wanted, or that the 
other creatures in the field will not have their 
brains knocked out, their legs broken, or their 
hides torn into strips by their vicious attacks.” 
This, unless it can be shown 1 . ha-e no very 
general application, proves the entire unfitness 
of the mule as an animal for the uses of the 
farm. We shall be pleased to give the views 
of those who have had experience touching 
these or other points of interest on the subject. 
TWO RURAL SCENES; 
OR, GOOD AND BAD FARMING CONTRASTED. 
Lest the reader should consider the accom¬ 
panying an imaginary sketch, we will state 
that, though not in all respects literally true, 
it is far from being fictitious. The writer of 
it has been a resident of one of the richest 
counties in Western New York for nearly fifty 
years, is an extensive aud progressive farmer, 
and has undoubtedly experienced some of the 
scenes so happily and vividly described. Cer¬ 
tain w’e are that his farm is crossed by a rail¬ 
road, for we have more than once seen his res¬ 
idence and admired his fine location, while 
passing in the cars,— and, in accordance with 
his invitation, shall endeavor to make him a 
visit during the ensuing season.— Ed. Rural. 
Mr. Rural: —I’ve been thinking for a good 
while I ought to write to you, aud give you 
many thanks for what I owe you. Not that 
I owe you any money, for ever since I began 
to take any paper you printed, I always paid 
up chuck down. But for all that, I am your 
debtor quite considerably, and I will tell you 
how, as well as I can, for I was started when 
education wasn’t as common as it is now.— 
We’ve all been the better for that big diction¬ 
ary which Ick got for getting up a club once— 
however, to my story. 
My wife and I and our baby, came into this 
country when it was a wilderness. We were 
young, and as full of hope as a maple tree is of 
sap in the spring. All our plunder was in the 
ox team, and on the ox sled, that brought us 
out of the good old Bay State. A man had 
been in before us and put up a log house of 
rather large dimensions, expecting to keep a 
tavern, but he got sick, and when I came along, 
he wanted us to stop with him till he got bet¬ 
ter. We staid till spring, and he then got bet¬ 
ter, but made up his mind to leave the coun¬ 
try, and I bought his claim, and here T have 
been for nearly forty years. 
For a few years I worked hard, and cleared 
up my land, and got ahead finely. I began to 
feel pretty rich, and to think of building a new 
house. But my wife thought we ought to pay 
up for the farm first; and all my troubles came 
! from not following her advice. 
About two miles from me there was a saw- 
I mill built soon after I settled, and pretty soon 
a grist-mill, and then a store, and blacksmith 
shop, tavern, and po.st office, came along. I 
got iu the habit of going to the village pretty 
often, got intimate with the merchant, spent 
pleasant hours in his store at evening, drink¬ 
ing and chatting with the neighbors. The 
habit grew upon me, and I began to neglect 
business. One day the merchant wanted to 
raise some money, and as a matter of form 
wanted me to endorse his note, which I did of 
course, as he had always been a clever fellow 
and everybody said he was rich. 
But, sir, in the course cf a year he failed all 
to smash, and I was told that I must pay the 
note—an honor I had not contemplated when 
I put my name on the back of it. After a 
while they“got judgment against me, and as I 
had not much personal property, (my money 
had been lent and lest,) my land was sold. I 
was discouraged, used to drink to keep up my 
spirits, but they wculd’nt keep up, and the up¬ 
shot was that I got pretty low in the scale of 
humanity. My business was neglected, the 
farm was left to the care of my wife and chil¬ 
dren, and they, poor things, could not do much 
—a living desolation came over my once pros¬ 
perous home. 
Here’s a picture cf it. 
premises of the retrogressive farmer. 
That’s me sitting under the porch, I was 
just getting over a very sad fit of w r hat has 
been called “ Snakes in the Boots," —or what an 
Irishman who was working for me, and who 
stands in the gap grinning at poor Jim and 
the old sow, called “ terrible dreamings .”— 
While I sat there my mind went back over 
the whole of my past life. The dreary, desolate 
scenes around me, the degradation of my fami¬ 
ly, my ragged children, my poor patient wife, 
who, in all my misery had never upbraided me, 
but with cheerfulness and patience had borne 
with all my wickedness—came so strongly be¬ 
fore me, that laying my right hand upon ray 
heart, and looking up to heaven, I swore that 
from that hour I would be a reformed man.— 
The prayers of my kind, suffering wife had 
been heard and answered, and from that time 
—now nearly twenty years—I have not tasted 
a drop of ardent spirits. I became a man 
again, and with returning health aud reason 
(no man is healthy or sane who uses intoxica¬ 
ting drinks) came hope aud energy. It is 
strange to see how quick a little care and 
resolution will change the appearance of a 
farm. My fences were put up, my land culti¬ 
vated, and I began to make some impression 
upon my debts—for I had to mortgage my 
land to pay the merchant’s judgment. Just 
then a railroad was laid through a part of my 
land, for which I received a good round sum in 
shape of damages. A corner-lot genius com¬ 
ing along, and thinking to make a speculation, 
for there was a four corners where the railroad 
was laid, I sold out a good sized farm at a high 
figure, leaving me still land enough. I had 
thus means to pay up all my debts, and a sur¬ 
plus over for improvements. 
The children went to school, the older ones 
to the Academy, and in a few years my family 
was in every respect as likely and reputable— 
though I say it—as any in the town. It makes 
a great difference with a man’s respectability 
whether he ha3 money to lend, or is a borrow¬ 
er, and ragged at that. 
When you began on the Genesee Farmer , I 
was induced to take it, not that I knew or 
cared any thing about you then, and when you 
started the Rural I took that, and now I 
come to the place where I want to thank you. 
By reading your papers I got new ideas of 
things; I began t-o plant fruit trees and shrub¬ 
bery about the old house ; I made me hot-beds, 
and finally we concluded to build a new house 
and to slick up—and we did so—and here is a 
picture of my home in my old age. 
..... 
Iff 
PREMISES 0? THE LIJOGR-HKSIYL FARMER. 
The fellow who made the picture has “ em¬ 
bellished ” some. There ain’t so many peaks 
to my house, and none to my barn, and those 
two steeples arc only in the fellow's fancy.— 
But for all that, I have a very pleasant house. 
That is me with the pitchfork and dog. The 
way the fellow’ makes me draw my hay is pure 
fiction, for I never drive my horses tandrum .— 
Jim, whom you saw in the first picture, pound¬ 
ing the old sow’s nose, has grown up a lino 
fellow, married and iive3 at home, and takes 
care of the farm. If you could see into the 
bushes under those two large trees in front of 
the house, you would see as bright a pair of 
grandchildren as ever delighted the eyes of a 
happy old man. 
And now when you are passing this way, 
come and see me, and we will show you that 
the last picture is no fiction. Excuse bad 
grammar, &c. Samuel Stycks. 
