72 
THE CULTIVATOR. 
and seem almost to become incorporated with our nature. Hence it is,! 
that every individual is so set in his first opinions. Our early imprest 
sions would prevail with us through life, if our opinions could not be 
altered. But the mind can be affected, and the understanding influenc¬ 
ed ; therefore, our first opinion of things can be changed and eradicated. 
The most powerful way, perhaps, to effect a change, is the influence 
of example. Many who, for a time, possess a moral character, be¬ 
come out-casts from society, by associating with the bad. The school¬ 
boy, that is fond of mischief while at school, generally commits more 
or less crimes during his life-time, unless changed by good examples, 
to mend his ways. The son- of a Slovenish farmer, unless his habits 
are altered, will follow his father’s ways, and become a brother to Un¬ 
thrifty. The child, that is nourished with ardent spirits in its infan¬ 
cy, will be laid in a drunkard’s grave, unless the evil practice be aban¬ 
doned. The agriculturist, by sleeping after sun-rise, will form a habit, 
which, if continued, will be the means of losing the best part of his 
time, and the cause of a great deal of trouble, which might be avoided 
by early rising. Thus we see the great importance of forming such 
habits, only, as will render us happy in life, and guide us smoothly 
through that short space of time which is allotted to man. Our early 
impressions have such a bearing upon our nature, that they can easily 
be discovered in old age. When the aged takes a retrospective view of 
early life, it raises their ideas with youthful ardor, to the highest de¬ 
gree of recollection, and many impressions are brought to mind which 
were formed in early life. It affords me high gratification, to see so 
great a number of young men engaged in tilling the ground, and re¬ 
ceiving such impressions from agricultural papers, that will render them 
agreeable in society, and the future glory of our large and rising coun¬ 
try. Many there are, who pretend that education belongs not to the 
farmer. None will uphold this idea, who have made the least progress 
to the fair Temple of Fame, or else, in early life, received the errone¬ 
ous impression, that none but the lawyer, doctor, merchant, and the 
rich idle man, could be educated to an advantage, or those who intend¬ 
ed to follow these branches. George Washington, one of the greatest 
generals that ever unsheathed a sword, after gaining our independence, 
cultivated his farm with frugality. His early opinions followed him 
through all his battles; and he lived and died on his possessions, after 
severe struggling, for more than seven years. J. INGHAM. 
Manheim, Herkimer country, April 12th, 1836. 
SELF-EDUCATION.— by william wIrt. 
And this leads me, gentlemen, to another remark, to which I invite 
your attention. It is this:—The education, moral and intellectual, of 
every individual, must chiefly be his own work. There is a prevailing 
and fatal mistake on this subject. It seems to be supposed, that if a 
young man be sent, first to a grammer school, then to college, he must 
of course become a scholar: and the pupil himself is apt to imagine 
that he is to be the mere passive recipient of instruction, as he is of the 
light and atmosphere which surround him. But this dream of indo¬ 
lence must be dissipated, and you must be awakened to the important 
truth, that, if you aspire to excellence, you must become active and 
vigorous co-operators with your teachers, and work out your own dis¬ 
tinction, with an ardor that cannot be quenched—a perseverance that 
considers nothing done whilst any thing yet remains to be done. Rely 
upon it that the ancients were right— Quisque suce fortunes faber, both 
in morals and intellect, we give their final shape to our own characters, 
and thus become, emphatically, the architects of our own fortunes.^ 
How else should it happen that young men, who have had precisely the 
same opportunities, should be continually presenting us with such dif¬ 
ferent results, and rushing to such opposite destinies ? Difference of 
talent will not solve it, because that difference is very often in favor of 
the disappointed candidate. You shall see issuing from the walls of 
the same school—nay, sometimes from the bosom of the same family 
—two young men, of whom the one shall be admitted to be a genius 
of high order; the other, scarcely above the point of mediocrity; yet 
you will see the genius sinking and perishing in poverty, obscurity and 
wretchedness; while, on the other hand, you will observe the mediocre 
plodding his slow but sure way up the hill of life, gaining steadfast 
footing at every step, and mounting at length to eminence and distinc¬ 
tion, an ornament to his family, a blessing to his country. Now, whose 
work is this? Manifestly their own. They are the architects of their 
respective fortunes. The best seminary of learning that can open its 
portals to you, can do no more than afford you the opportunity of in¬ 
struction ; but it must depend, at last, on yourselves, whither you will 
be instructed or not, or to what jpoint you will push your instruction. 
And of this be assured—I speak from observation a certain truth:— 
There is no excellence without great labor. It is the fiatof Fate, from 
which no power of genius can absolve youth. Genius unexerted, is 
like the poor moth that flutters around a candle till it scorches itself to 
death. If genius be desirable at all, it is only of that great and mag¬ 
nanimous kind, which, like the condor of South America, pitches 
from the summit of Chimborazo, above the clouds, and sustains itself 
at pleasure, in that empyreal region, with an energy rather invigorat- 
|j ed than weakened by the effort. It is this capacity for high and long 
continued exertion—this vigorous power of profound and searching in¬ 
vestigation—this careering and wide-sweeping comprehension of mind 
—and those long reaches of thought, that 
Pluck bright honor from the pale-faced moon, 
Or dive into the bottom of the deep, 
Where fathom-line could never touch the ground, 
And drag up drowned honor by the locks. 
This is the prowess and these the hardy achievements which are to 
enrol your names among the great men of the earth. 
But how are you to gain the nerve and the courage for enterprises 
of this pith and moment? I will tell you:—As Milo gained that hoc 
signo vinces:: for this must be your work, not that of your teachers. 
Be you not wanting to yourselves, and you will accomplish all that 
your parents, friends aiid country have a right to expect. 
EDUCATION OF THE APPETITES. 
It must begin from the earliest infancy, long before the dawn of rea¬ 
son, and even anterior to the evolution of the moral sentiment. • The 
rule on which it is conducted is a very simple one, applicable to all 
classes. It is to allow no child the indulgence of an appetite or pro¬ 
pensity, other than what is required by its intuitive wants for its bodily 
support and health.' Nothing is to be conceded by the whim or caprice 
of a parent to the imaginary wants of a child; for it must be constantly 
borne in mind, that every gratification of every sense, whether of taste, 
sight, sound or touch, is the beginning of a desire for its renewal; and 
that every renewal gives the probability of the indulgence becoming a 
habit;—and that habit once formed, even in childhood, will often re¬ 
main during the whole of after life, acquiring strength every year, until 
it sets all laws, both human and divine, at defiance. Let parents who 
allow their children to sip a little of this wine, or just taste that cordial, 
or who yield to the cries of their little ones for promiscuous food, or for. 
liberty to sit up a little later, or to torment a domestic animal, or to 
strike their nurse, or to raise the hand against mamma, ponder well on 
the consequences. If they do not, often vain are the after efforts of in¬ 
structors; vain the monitions from the pulpit. Their child is in danger 
of growing up a drunkard, or a glutton, a self-willed sensualist, or pas¬ 
sionate and revengeful; prompt to take the life of a fellow-being, and 
to sacrifice his own; and all this because the fond parents were faith¬ 
less in their trusts. They had not the firmness to do their duty; they 
feared to mortify their child, and in so doing, they expose him in after 
life to be mortified by the world’s scorn; to wander an unloved, un¬ 
pitied thing.— Journal of Health. 
THE CULTIVATOR-AUG. 1836. 
TO IMPROVE THE SOIL AND THE MIND. 
TO POST MASTERS. 
3CP We send a copy of this number to every Post Master in the 
United States, (say 9,000) except to 2,000, to whose offices the Culti¬ 
vator is already forwarded. This is done at the request and at the 
charge of Edward C. Delavan Esq. of this city, the object of whose 
munificence is explained in his letter to the Conductor, inserted under 
the head of correspondence, and to which we beg to refer the reader. 
We avail ourselves of the occasion, respectfully to invite post-masters 
to aid in carrying out the philanthropic object of the donor, and to 
ask of those who cannot give their personal attention to it, to place 
this number in the hands of some efficient friend to agricultural im¬ 
provement, in the hope, that a wish to subserve the public good, will 
induce such to solicit and forward subscriptions to the Cultivator. 
Subscribers will be furnished with the five published numbers of this 
volume. The terms of the cultivator will be seen above. The second 
volume, in a stitched form, with explanatory and descriptive cuts, 
will be forwarded at the subscription price. The first volume is out 
of print. The postage of a volume is 121 cents to any place in the 
stale, or within~100 miles of Albany, and does not exceed 18| cents to 
any post town in the United States. Subscriptions can be received on¬ 
ly for an entire volume. 
MATTERS OF INTEREST TO ALL. 
We venture to lay down the following propositions, as adapted to 
our day and country : 
1. Every business in life is mainly dependant, for its prosperity, upon 
the labors of agriculture. 
Agriculture is the body, while the other professions are the members; 
and although the body and members are mutually dependent, and reci- 
procally useful to each other, the body can exist without the members, 
much better than the members can exist without the body. The far¬ 
mer can supply his necessities, and most of his reasonable wants, within 
the circle of his family; he can feed and clothe himself: but his wants 
are enlarged, and his ability to gratify them increased, in proportion to 
