375 
September 19. 
] 
THE COTTAGE GARDENER. 
WEEKLY CALENDAR. 
■ 
M W 
D D 
SEPTEMBER 19—25, 1850. 
Weather near London 
in 1849. 
Sun 
Rises. 
Sun 
Sets. 
Moon 
R.&S. 
Moon’s 
Age. 
Clock 
bef. Sun. 
Day of 
Year. 
19 Th 
Chiffchaff’s song over. 
T. 64°—40°. 
N.E. 
Fine. 
42 a. 5 
5 a. 6 
3 6 
13 
6 
12 
262 
20 F 
Sun’s declination 1° 8' n. 
T. 59°—46°. 
N.E. 
Rain. 
44 
3 
4 10 
14 
6 
33 
263 
21 S 
St. Matthew. 
T. 64°—49°. 
N.E. 
Rain. 
46 
1 
rises. 
© 
6 
54 
264 
22 Sun 
17 Sun. aft. Trinity. Autumn commences. 
T. 66°—50°. 
E. 
Fine. 
47 
58 a. 5 
6 a.48 
16 
7 
15 
265 
23 M 
Beech mast falls. 
T. 6o°—50°. 
E. 
Rain. 
49 
56 
7 11 
17 
7 
36 
266 
24 To 
Ash leaves lemon colour. 
T. 66°—42°. 
N. 
Fine. 
51 
54 
7 36 
18 
7 
57 
267 
25 W 
Ivy flowers. 
T. 71°—39°. 
s.w. 
Fine. 
52 
51 
8 4 
19 
8 
18 
268 
On the 7th of September, 1/41 , was born Arthur Young, of whose 
writings it has been justly said, that “ they produced more private losses 
and more public benefit than those of any other author.” They occa¬ 
sioned those losses by tempting the unpractised to become farmers, and 
the farmers to try unprofitable experiments; and they occasioned public 
benefit even by the wisdom gained from those failures, but still more by 
diffusing agricultural knowledge among the cultivators of the soil. 
“ We will not assert,” said Mr. Kirwan, “that in all cases his conclusions 
were correct, or his judgment unimpeachable, but even his blunders, if 
he committed any, have tended to the benefit of agriculture, by exciting 
discussion and criticism.” Let us add, that every gardener, every farmer, 
and every amateur confers a benefit upon his fellow cultivators by recording 
his failures as well as his successful experiments,—just the same as a 
lighthouse is equally valuable whether it shows the rock t.o be avoided or 
the harbour for which we are to steer. From childhood Mr. Young had 
a great fondness for farming, and exhibited at least an equal power for 
literary composition ; yet the great mistake was made of spending some 
hundreds of pounds, and as effectually wasting a still greater number of 
his days, in endeavouring to break down his mind to the craft of a wine- 
merchant. Nature was invincible; so that instead of devoting his 
thoughts to the topography of the European vineyards, and the art of 
rendering their produce agreeable to British palates, he wrote novels and 
a political pamphlet, the reward for which—ten pounds worth of books 
from the publisher—was always remembered as causing a most memo¬ 
rable pleasure. Now occurred the death of his father; and he found 
himself, his apprenticeship being expired, his own master, with a freehold 
of 20 acres, producing as many pounds annually, and his mother in 
possession of 80 more acres, at Bradfield, near Bury St. Edmunds. She 
urged one willing to assent when she asked him to reside with her, and 
undertake the cultivation of her farm. He accepted her proposal, and 
the result may be told in his own words: “Young, eager, and totally 
ignorant of every necessary detail, it is not surprising that I squandered 
large sums under golden dreams of improvement.” It is the less sur¬ 
prising, because he had a thirst for experiment without a knowledge of 
what is required to secure success. Undaunted by failure, and unsobered 
by experience, he married unsuitably, and undertook the cultivation of 
Sampford Hall, in Essex. It embraced 300 acres of good arable land, 
yet want of capital, want of practical knowledge, and that still more 
bitter want—the want of “ a help mete for him,” drove him from the 
farm ; yet the tenant, to whom he gave ^lOO to take the lease off his 
hands, realised upon it a fortune. Still unshaken from his love of the 
soil, he sought for another farm, and the search furnished materials for 
his Six Weeks' Tour through the Southern Counties —a work popular, 
and passing through several editions, yet resulting to himself in no 
greater good at the time than beguiling him into taking a Hertfordshire 
farm of 100 acres, by seeing it in a favourable season, and by its having 
a good residence attached. This farm he has thus described—“ I know 
not what epithet to give this soil,—sterility falls short of the idea of such 
a hungry vitriolic gravel. I occupied for nine years the jaws of a wolf. 
A nabob’s fortune would sink in the attempt to raise good arable crops 
in such a country.” Finding that it would not return him a subsist¬ 
ence, he accepted an engagement as Parliamentary Reporter for the 
Morning Post , a most incongruous employment for a farmer, because it 
compelled his absence from home during six days of the week. Yet he 
retained it for several years—walking 17 miles down to his farm every 
Saturday evening, and returning to London every Monday morning. 
“ I worked,” are his own words, “ more like a coalheaver, though with¬ 
out his reward, than like a man acting from a predominent impulse.” 
Passing over the publication of several of his agricultural tours, we come 
to the year 1784, when he commenced his Annuls of Agriculture , in 
which he appeared both as editor and author throughout its 45 volumes, 
until blindness closed his literary labours. It had this guarantee of 
trustworthiness—no essay was admitted without the name and address 
of the writer. Its correspondents, consequently, are singularly eminent; 
and even George III. contributed to its seventh volume a report, under 
the name of Ralph Robinson , of Mr. Ducket’s farm at Petersham. 
Undaunted by failure, Mr. Young was about to embark in the cultivation 
of a vast tract of waste land in Yorkshire, when in 1/93 he was appointed 
to the Secretaryship of the newly established Board of Agriculture. 
“'What a change,” he writes, “in the destination of a man’s life ! 
Instead of entering, as I proposed, the solitary lord of 4000 acres, in the 
keen atmosphere of lofty rocks and mountain torrents, with a little 
creation rising gradually around me, making the desert smile with cul¬ 
tivation, and grouse give way to industrious population, behold me at a 
desk, in the smoke, the fog, and the din of Whitehall. Society has 
charms,—true, and so has solitude to a mind employed. The die, how¬ 
ever, is cast; and my steps may still be, metaphorically, said to be in the 
furrow.” But to “ the furrow ” the society did not exclusively attend. 
Its transactions were disfigured by political dissertations, and it conse¬ 
quently so lost the support and respect of a large portion of the agri¬ 
culturists who differed from its political tenets, that it ceased to be 
useful. Government then withdrew from it the annual grant of ^3000 ; 
and in 1816 the Society ceased to exist. Mr. Young had not been able to 
perform the duties of Secretary for some years previously; and he did 
not long survive its failure, for he died in* 1820, in the 80th year of his 
age. His characteristics have appeared as our brief narrative has pro¬ 
ceeded; and we may add that his agricultural attainments were estimated 
more highly by foreigners than in his own land, for when the Duke of 
Bedford once breakfasted with Mr. Young, at Bradfield, there were also at 
the table pupils from Russia, France, America, Naples, Poland, Sicily, and 
Portugal. Wecannot conclude with¬ 
out holding forward prominently 
that feature of his character, never 
found among the attributes of the 
vicious—his pure unwavering affec¬ 
tion for his mother. Whithersoever 
inclination prompted him still in¬ 
clination was invariably sacrificed 
to satisfy the wishes of his parent. 
In every way she was worthy of his 
affection, and may be added to the 
thousands of instances in which we 
know that it was the remembrance 
of the mother’s gentleness, the 
mother’s precepts, and the mo¬ 
ther’s example, that biassed man 
to the right path, long after the 
form with which they were asso¬ 
ciated had passed to the grave. 
Meteorology of the Week. 
The observations made at Chiswick 
during the last twenty-three years 
show that the average highest and 
lowest temperatures of these days 
are 66.3° and 45.9° respectively. 
The greatest heat, 82°, occurred 
on the 25th in 1842. During the 
twenty-three years 87 of the days 
were fine, and on 74 days rain 
fell. 
RANGE OF BAROMETER—RAIN IN INCHES. 
Sept. 
1841. 
1842. 
1843. 
1844. 
1845. 
1846. 
1847. 
1848. 
1849. 
19 
B. 
r 30.037 
29.583 
30.163 
30.068 
29.996 
29 790 
29.957 
29.989 
30.460 
129.972 
29.543 
30.148 
29.933 
29.681 
29.614 
29.757 
29.792 
30.445 
R. 
— 
0.08 
— 
0.01 
— 
— 
0.50 
— 
— 
20 
B. 
r 30.109 
29.522 
30.107 
30.028 
29-932 
29.508 
29.934 
29.768 
30.407 
l 30.056 
29.478 
30.034 
29.997 
29.690 
29.478 
29.729 
29.617 
30.298 
R. 
— 
0.02 
— 
0.01 
0.29 
—r 
0.03 
— 
0.05 
21 
B. 
f 29.969 
29.464 
30.216 
30.091 
29-538 
29.637 
30.108 
29.798 
30.172 
129.700 
29.458 
30.131 
30.048 
29-315 
29.556 
30.011 
29.764 
30.123 
R. 
0.10 
0.02 
— 
0.01 
0.12 
— 
0.19 
0.03 
0.02 
22 
B. 
r 29.627 
29.494 
30.446 
30.036 
29.946 
29.657 
30.058 
29.795 
30.0S2 
129.613 
29.460 
30.363 
29.921 
29.682 
29-583 
30.023 
29.767 
30.030 
R. 
0.30 
0.01 
— 
— 
— 
0.08 
— 
— 
j 23 
B. 
; 29.617 
29.494 
30.509 
29741 
30.223 
29.444 
30.008 
29.664 
29.915 
1 29.578 
29.346 
30.460 
29.692 
30.011 
29.350 
29.935 
2Q.531 
29.897 
R. 
0.23 
0.36 
— 
— 
— 
1.21 
— 
0.22 
0.J6 
j 24 
B. 
r 29.526 
29.424 
30.467 
30.081 
30.242 
29-511 
30.199 
2Q.341 
29.866 
*129.480 
29-341 
30.375 
29.893 
30.016 
29-403 
30.141 
29.326 
29.829 
R. 
0.25 
0.06 
— 
— 
— 
0.01 
— 
— 
! 25 
B. 
f 29.481 
29.642 
30.259 
30.234 
29.852 
29.813 
30.088 
29.476 
29.839 
\ 29.398 
29.536 
30.161 
30.174 
29.692 
29-682 
29.954 
29.381 
29.834 
R. 
0.30 
0.26 
0.01 
0.10 
The Chrysanthemum is usually considered as being 
first mentioned by Kcempfer in 1712, under the title of 
Matricaria; but we think it had been previously des¬ 
cribed by Ray, in the third volume of his Historia 
Plantarum (page 225), published in 1701, and who 
quotes for his authorities the Ilortus Malabaricus, and 
specimens in Petiver's Museum He describes it under 
the name of Matricaria indica latiore folio, florepleno, 
and under the native name of Tsjetti-Pa. Linnaeus in 
1753 first placed it as a distinct species, with two 
No. CIII., Vol. IV. 
