300 
THE CULTIVATOR. 
again, which may be filtered and dried between absorb¬ 
ing paper, ami finally in a water bath or sand bath, or on 
a stove, with some paper around it. When dry, take a 
mixture of one part of cyanide of potassium to three of 
carbonate of soda, and rub them well together. To one 
part of the sulphuret of arsenic, add twelve of the mix¬ 
ture, and rub them in a mortar. Bring this mixture in 
a tube of half an inch in diameter or a little less, and 
lead into it dry carbonic acid gas, to expel all atmos¬ 
pheric air. After gently heating this tube throughout its 
whole length with a spirit-lamp, to draw out all moist¬ 
ure, bring a strong flame under the mixture and heat to 
redness. The arsenic will abandon its sulphuret, and at 
a little distance be precipitated upon the glass tube form¬ 
ing a metalic mirror. If antimony were present, it 
would remain behind. This simple experiment is per¬ 
fectly decisive—a metalic mirror in this instance can 
have come from nothing but arsenic. 
At the close of the lecture, I went to my lodgings to 
dinner. Most of the chemists dine at The Rappen , a ho¬ 
tel where the suite of dishes amounts to ten or more. I 
joined them last winter, but finding the fare too luxuri¬ 
ous, I sought the more prevailing mode of German stu¬ 
dents, that of dining on prescribed dishes, whose number 
and variety can be controlled. My dinner of yesterday 
was a kind of bread and milk soup, an early favorite 
dish—a bit of wild swine flesh, potatoes, and a dessert. 
The soup, meat, vegetables, and dessert, are varied every 
day. While my dinner is being arranged and at its 
close, and indeed as it progresses, I review my notes of 
the morning lectures. 
Half an hour after dinner is given to the Cultivator, 
Argus, and Journal—sheets for which I feel an inde¬ 
scribable affection here, and for which I feel grateful to 
my friends—and I enter the laboratory to work on till 
half-past six, or later, as the case may be. Then I go 
to walk, or, with more than two hundred others, 
distribted all along the river for a mile, to bathe in the 
Lahn. The temperature, which has for the last few 
days ranged from 80 to 92 degrees, drives sleep out of 
possibility without it. At eight I am in my room—oc¬ 
cupy the tinie till half-past ten with calculating analyses, 
reading the chemical journals, and closing the affairs of 
the day. Before resuming the books, however, I repeat 
my luxury of the biscuit and cup of milk. 
Thus passed yesterday. On two other days of the 
week I hear Prof. Will upon inorganic analysis, a course 
which I heard in the winter, and through which 1 have 
worked in the laboratory, but which I cannot permit to 
pass unheard, so impossible is it to make a step of pro¬ 
gress in inorganic chemistry without familiarity with all 
known reactions, or at least with the scheme of inor¬ 
ganic analysis. 
Respectfully yours, E. N. Horsford. 
MR. MITCHELL’S LETTERS—No. X. 
Paris, Aug-., 1845. 
Luther Tucker, Esq.—There being little to men¬ 
tion of Agricultural interest at Paris, I propose to give 
you in the present, some scattered notes of British travel. 
My observation extended over nearly all England—only 
two counties, Shropshire and Norfolk were unvisited. 
Through Berkshire, Oxfordshire, Warwickshire, Cum¬ 
berland, Westmoreland, and a large part of Derbyshire, 
and Berwickshire, (in Scotland,) I strolled on foot. 
During this pedestrian range of over three hundred 
miles, I took frequent occasions to visit the farm houses, 
and laborer’s cottages along the way; have observed as 
closely as circumstances admitted, the habits of the 
industrial portions of the population, have conversed 
with them at their simple homes, and in the fields, and 
not unfrequently have made trial of their implements of 
husbandry beside them. Two or three bouts round a 
field in South Devon, I remember going, with my hands 
to the stilts of a crazier plow than I ever saw in the most 
retired districts of New England. Only a month since, 
I wearied myself to exhaustion with one of the heavy 
Cumberland scythes, which, though exceedingly clumsy, 
and ill fitted in every other respect, are of the best tem¬ 
pered metal, and retain a fine edge. The mower was at 
first, unwilling to trust his scythe in my hands, but after 
promising him a sixpence pour boire , he willingly 
granted the favor, and admitted the work to be very fair¬ 
ly done. Should circumstances admit, the results of this 
observation may be reduced to something like method. 
In the hurry of travel, and the excitement of constantly 
recurring novelties, I can only snatch from my note-book 
a fragment or two, which may be of interest to your 
readers. 
And first, of the famous model farm at Dublin. On 
the 28th of last April, I took a car in Sackville-street, 
and instructed the carman to drive me to the model 
farm, near Glasnevin, about three miles from the town. 
The environs of Dublin, in point of judicious and tho¬ 
rough cultivation, are surpassed by those of no other 
British city, and in respect of rich scenery, are excelled 
by none, except perhaps those of Edinburgh. In fact 
the whole country, for three or four miles about the 
town is a garden;—not a garden only in the richness and 
variety of its products, but from the fact, that nearly 
every inch of its cultivated soil is turned up with the 
spade, and levelled with the rake. The plow is indeed 
used, and of every variety—the subsoil, the wheel, and 
the double mould, but the spade, within the distance of 
Dublin above mentioned, invariably attends, or follows 
their operation. The consequence is, a heavy tilth, that 
gives the grasses a dark luxuriance of growth, and to 
every crop a most extraordinary robustness. 
The model farm offers no exception to these general ap¬ 
pearances; indeed, its fields are distinguished from its 
neighbors, by the neatness with which' the crops were 
laid down, by the trim attire of its fences and hedges, 
and if possible, by the superior exuberance of its vege¬ 
tation. Stopping in a little lane which turns oil the high 
road, and leaving the car at a pretty white gate, open 
ing upon the approach to the farmery, I strolled down 
the gravel walk toward the house, which was but some 
seventy or eighty rods distant. On either side of the 
way, were slight hedges of flowers and shrubs, over 
which were seen in rich profusion the many colored 
crops of the farm. The house is of stone, sufficiently 
large to accommodate sixteen or seventeen apprentices, 
beside the proper offices of husbandry, and is without 
any great pretensions to architectural style. But there 
are vines being trained over it, and a thousand little 
decorations of shrub and flower, which are better than 
such pretensions, and which show that scientific skill, 
and first rate practical abilities may be, and are associa¬ 
ted with regai-d for, and love of beauty, without harming 
the one or the other. 
The farm is a level surface, in the form of a paralello- 
gram, and of about sixty acres in extent. It has been in 
the occupancy of the present proprietor but a few years, 
who leases it,—subject to the general supervision of the 
agricultural board, at a rent of $1,500 a year. Sixteen 
or seventeen young men, such as are recommended to 
the board, are apprenticed to the farmer, and perform 
all the labor, without other remuneration than their 
board, and the opportunity to learn proper farm manage¬ 
ment. Besides these, a very large and fluctuating num¬ 
ber of persons preparing for school keeping in the ag¬ 
ricultural districts, attend at the farmery two mornings 
in the week, for lectures upon agricultural subjects, and 
every Saturday, for personal observation of farm duties. 
The manager is no humbug; neither overrating the 
aids of science, nor underrating the advantages of field 
practice; he understands his duty, and has the energy to 
fulfil it. I found him in the cattle yard, giving some final 
directions to the stable hands, before going to the fields. 
The yard is a square, with the sheds and stables about it, 
upon every side except the south. It there opens into a 
larger yard, into which the cows are turned for an hour or 
two every morning for exercise. The number was, I 
think, twelve, beside several young cattle. They are 
fed wholly in the stalls, upon fresh cut Italian grass, 
bruised oats, and in winter, roots and hay. These cat¬ 
tle, with several horses, two or three at least, are sus¬ 
tained, and in first rate order, from only thirteen acres 
in grass, beside, as the manager assured me, putting up 
several tons for winter use. The cows are of no par¬ 
ticular breed—being intermixture of the Ayrshire and 
