THE CULTIVATOR 
103 
or thirty days that the fermentation lasts ; the paste being in the intervals 
moistened with the juice, and the surface of it united. 
In a cold season, or when the leaves are poor and dry, fermentation will 
not be completed in a month; in Italy they often allow four months for it, 
and sometimes the bed is not removed till the following spring. 
There is a kind of worm which often takes possession of these beds, and 
sometimes in such numbers as to devour all the indigo contained in them; in 
this case the beds must be turned over, and, if this be not sufficient, the whole 
must be again ground in the mill. 
After fermentation the paste seldom appears of a uniform texture, and there 
will be found in it some remains of nerves which are visible to the eye; for 
this reason it is subjected to a second grinding, after which it is ready to be 
made into cakes; this is done by filling round wooden moulds with it, or by 
forming loaves four or five inches in diamater, and eight or ten in height, and 
usually w eighing about three pounds and a quarter. In the south of France 
the moulds are usually much smaller, and the loaves of woad known by the 
name of shells, weigh but little more than one pound. These cakes should, 
w’hen broken, appear of a violet color, and exhale a good odor. 
The cakes are placed upon hurdles and carried to a dry and airy place to 
harden. 
In most countries the cakes are sold in this state to the dyers, who make use 
of them either to heighten their woad dyes, or for dying by themselves a soft 
blue; but in general they are made to undergo another process, by which they 
are improved; this is called refining. This last operation is, however, sel¬ 
dom performed by the manufacturers, but by the dealers to whom they are 
sold in large quantities; the reason of this is, that the process of refining can 
be performed advantageously only on large masses, and the proprietor of the 
fields for cultivating woad has only the product of his harvest, and the con¬ 
veniences neeessary for making it into cakes. 
For refining the woad cakes, it is necessary that they should either be 
ground in a mill or broken in pieces with an axe; the fragments are made into 
beds about four feet high, and sprinkled either with water, or, what is prefera¬ 
ble, with the juice of the leaves; heat is developed in a short time, and a 
violent fermentation takes place.. At the end of six days the bed is turned, so 
as to bring the interior or under portion upon the top ; this is watered in the 
same manner, and, five or six days after, the bed is again made over with the 
same care. These operations are renewed at short intervals, till the mass, 
having ceased to ferment, becomes cold; in this state all the animal and vege¬ 
table portions, with the exception of the indigo, are decomposed, and it is 
now sold to the dyers to the greatest advantage. 
The mode of making woad cakes here described, is undoubtedly the most 
perfect one, but it is not everywhere practised. At Genoa they do not refine 
them; in the department of Calvados, and upon the Rhine, they pile up the 
leaves without grinding them; and they mould the cakes as soon as the divi¬ 
sion of the mass will allow of this operation. 
It is necessary to observe, that an immense variety in the quality of the 
cakes is produced, not only by the nature of the soil and climate, but also by 
the difference of seasons, and by the care bestowed upon the cultivation of 
the plant and the gathering of the leaves; and from these circumstances arises 
the different estimation in which they are held in commerce, and consequently 
the various prices at which they are sold. The leaves of woad yield about 
one-third their weight of good cakes; these, when used with indigo to form dyes 
for producing a permanent blue color, serve not only to facilitate fermentation, 
but add the indigo which they contain, to that which is brought from India, 
and thus render the dye less expensive. 
The cakes, especially those that have been refined, contain alone a sufficient 
quantity of indigo to give to cloth all the shades of blue, which can he pro¬ 
cured from the imported material. M. Giobert statc-s, that M. Alexander 
Mazera, in the presence of several skilful dyers and manufacturers, and of 
the commissaries of the Academy of Turin, colored with the cakes four 
pieces of fine cloth of four different shades, and they were judged to be 
at least equal in brilliancy and durability to those obtained from the best 
Bengal indigo. 
M. de Puymaurin has published an account, of a process by which the in¬ 
habitants of the island of Corfu color, with the leaves of the isatis, the woollen 
stuffs of which they make their clothing. The practice with them is to cut 
the leaves when the plant is in flower, and, after carefully drawing out all the 
nerves, to reduce them to paste in a mortar; this paste is dried in the sun, 
and when it is to be used for coloring, is placed in a bucket and moistened 
with water; the mixture gradually heats and at length ferments strongly; 
water and a little weak ley of ashes is added, and the paste undergoes the 
putrid fermentation. Into this composition the cloth which is to be colored is 
plunged, and allowed to remain eight days, turning it from time to lime; in 
this way it acquires a deep and lasting blue. The ease with which this pro¬ 
cess is executed would render it very useful in farmers’ families.— Chaptal. 
MOORS. 
In some of the counties of England, there are considerable tracts of low 
swampy land, called moors, which for ages was thought to be of very little 
value. Lincolnshire, especially, was almost half covered with these deep al¬ 
luvial fens, the favorite haunts of aquatic birds and amphibious animals. The 
greater part of these moors have been drained and brought under the plough 
and harrow ; and thus converted into some of the finest and richest lands in 
the kingdom. One method of draining as I was told, in Lincolnshire, where 
the ground will not admit of any other, is by steam engines. The water 
which would otherwise accumulate in miry places, and prevent cultivation, is 
pumped up from one level to another, till it flows oft' in artificial channels, or 
is made to irrigate the higher grounds in the vicinity. 
We, in this country, have but just begun to find out that our low swampy 
lands are the most valuable lands we have. Thousands and thousands of 
acres, even in the oldest slates of the Union, are at this moment worse than 
useless to the owners, when a little expense and trouble might make them 
yield the best hay and pasturage, and the richest harvests of any they possess. 
It is wonderful to see how our people will cling to the hills and knolls of their 
farms, year after year, till they have utterly worn them out, when they have 
the richest bottom lands within a stone’s throw, which have long since swal¬ 
lowed up the soil of all the high grounds in the vicinity, and which needs 
only to be drained and cultivated, to reward their owners a hundred fold.— 
And how many thousand beds of rich vegetable manure are there, which the 
proprietors have never dreamed of, and from which they might, with very 
little expense, restore their exhausted uplands. How lamentable is it to see 
industrious families almost starving upon thirty or fifty acres of sand and 
gravel, when they might just go down into their own moors, and grow rich 
upon twenty acres.— Dr. Humphrey’s Tour, 
Young Men’s Department. 
FROM A FATHER TO HIS SON.—No. VI. 
SOCIAL AND RELATIVE DUTIES. 
I mean the duties which every man owes to others and to society; and from 
the performance of which, from Christian or benevolent motives, flows the pu¬ 
rest and sweetest pleasures that fall to the lot of man. To do good unto others 
is not only a cardinal Christian duty, but it is a civil duty of the highest grade. 
It is a duty which blends itself in all the concerns of life, from the performance 
of which no class is exempt, and which has an intimate bearing upon the good 
order and happiness of society. Were I to give an illustration of its best influ¬ 
ence upon society, in a collective body of men, I should point you to the so¬ 
ciety of Friends. As an entire class, they are probably more exemplary, in 
the performance of the social and relative duties of life, than any other class. 
I speak not of their religious tenets; but only of the influence which these ap¬ 
pear to have upon their secular or worldly conduct. Their habits of industry, 
temperance, brotherly love and general benevolence, are worthy of high com 
mendation, and of general imitation. 
To discharge these duties suitably, you ought to become impressed with the 
belief of their importance, resulting as well from a consciousness of duly, as 
from a conviction that your individual happiness depends, in a great measure, 
upon their performance. There is a mutual dependance upon each other among 
the various classes of society, like that of the members of the human body.— 
The manufacturer depends upon the farmer and others for the sale of his fa¬ 
brics, and the means of his subsistence. The mechanic and the professional 
man have a like dependence upon other classes; and the farmer, though most 
independent, is greatly indebted to the other classes for his prosperity, and the 
social enjoyments of civilized society. Each classfiourishes best when all class¬ 
es flourish most. Hence every individual acts wisely, who endeavors to pro¬ 
mote the prosperity of all. 
Let, therefore, no narrow-minded jealousy, or envious rivalship, deter y T ou 
from the performance of a duty to a neighbor, or from rejoicing in the success 
of his honest labors—for you are in many ways benefitted by his success; but 
rather strive to commend him, by following his example in whatever is meri¬ 
torious. A liltle pecuniary aid, tile influence of your own good conduct in 
economising time and money, and in practising the charities of life, and even 
a friendly and kind deportment, may effect much among your acquaintance, 
to preserve them from bad habits, and in rendering them useful and respecta¬ 
ble in society. It is through the influence of individuals, thus exerted, that 
communities are elevated in their character and enjoyments. \\ e may, by pre¬ 
cept and example,—by affection and kindness, win men to good habits; but we 
can seldom induce them to adopt those habits by coercion, or by a cold repul¬ 
sive demeanor. We must illustrate, in our own persons, their benign influ¬ 
ence, if we would persuade men to practise the virtues which adorn life, and 
impart to human beings their highest felicity 
The man who seeks to promote only the interest of self—who w-ould make 
the labors of others tributary to his wants, without reciprocating the favor to 
society, in some way, is an insulated being, an alien in the human family, a 
stranger alike to the sympathies and enjoyments which were designed to ele¬ 
vate him in the scale of intelligent beings. 
~ EDUCATION OF FEMALES. 
The principle just stated explains very obviously the weariness, debility, and 
injury to health which invariably follow forced confinement to one position or 
to one limited variety of movement, as is often witnessed in the education of 
young females. Alternate contraction and relaxation, or, in other words ex 
ercise of the muscles which support the trunk of the body, are the only means 
which, according to the Creator’s laws, are conductive to muscular develop¬ 
ment, and by which bodily strength and vigor can be secured. Instead of pro¬ 
moting such exercise, however, the prevailing system of female education pla¬ 
ces the muscles of the trunk, in particular, under the worst possible circum¬ 
stances, and renders their exercise nearly impossible. Left to its own weight, 
the body would fall to the ground, in obedience to the ordinary law of gravita¬ 
tion : in sitting and standing, therefore, as well as in walking, the position is 
preserved only by active muscular exertion But if we confine ourselves to 
one attitude, such as that of setting erect upon a chair—or, what is still w orse, 
on benches wilhout backs, as is the common praciice in schools,—it is obvious 
that we place the muscles which support the spine and trunk in the very disad¬ 
vantageous position of permanent instead of alternate contraction ; which we 
have seen to be in reality more fatiguing and debilitating to them than severo 
labor. Girls thus restrained daily for many successive hours invariably suf¬ 
fer—being deprived of the sports and exercise after school-hours w hich strength¬ 
en the muscles of boys, and enable them to withstand the oppression. The 
muscles being thus enfeebled, they either lean over insensibly to one side, and 
thus contract curvature of the spine; or their weakness being perceived, they 
are forthwith cased in stifter and stronger stays—that support being sought for 
in steel and whalebone which nature intended they should obtain from the 
bones and muscles of their own bodies. The patient, finding the maintenance 
