THE STAR OF THE NORTH R. W. Weaver Proprietor.] VOLUME 7. THE STAR OF THE NORTH II RUBLISHXD EVERY THURSDAY MORNING BY R. V. WEAVER, OFFICE— Ui ) stairs, in the new brick build ing, on tlmsouth side oj Main Start, third square below Market. TER MS >—' Two Dollars per annum, if paid within six months from the lime of sub scribing ; two dollars and fifty cents if not paid within the year. No subscription re ceived for a leas period than six months ; no discontinuance permitted until all arrearages are paid, unless at the option of the editor. ADVERTISEMENTS not exceeding one square will be inserted three limes for OM Dollar and twenty-five cents for each additional in aertion. A liberal discount will be made to those who advertise by the year. OS SB S3 DELIVERED BEFORE TIIE AGRICULTURAL SOCIETY OF SOMERSET COUNTY, AT ITS ianul Exhibition, Oct. th, 1851, By jr. 8. BLACK, Chief Justice of Pennsylvania . GENTLEMEN OF THE AGRICULTURAL SOCIETY : 01 course 1 am not expected to give you any instructions in the details of practical agricul ture. If I were competent to such a task,this is not the occasion to execute it. An essay on the breeds of cattle, or the genealogy of horses^—on the process of making butter, the composition of manures, or of particular crops—would, at present, be out of place and nut of time. My purpose is broader, if not better; and more general, if not more useful. The daty assigned to me wilt be done if t lay before you a few of the facte and reasons which tend to establish one most important truth, namely : that the art which you profess is in a condition which needs, and will most amply repay, a vigor ous effort to improve it. When those who belong lo a particular profession hear themselves addressed by one whose life has been devoted to a different putsuit, they take his advice reluctantly, or not at all. They believe as far as they please. It if so much easier to talk than to do, that an outaider can never speak as one having authority. Bui Ido not know why you should not laka a suggestion, or listen to a remon strance, lei it come "from whom it may— Tbare is nothing si all suspicious iu the fact, that a merchant or mechanic, a physician, minister, lawyer, or judge, takes a deep in terest in your business. It is their misfor tune, that they do not follow it; for most of them would il they could. The taste for ag ricultural employments and rural scenery is almost universal. The cultivation of the earth is the only trade which God ever com manded any man to exercise; and it seems to have been a part of the divine economy lo surround it with attractions. Our natural or ganization ii fitted for the country, and not for the town. The human eye is so fotmed, that it rests with pleasure on green and blue, and cannot indeed,endure any other color for a long time without injury. Our 6enie of tight is never so much delighted, because never employed in a manuei so congenial to the neture of its organ, as when we look up ward into the clear blue of the heavens, or abroad upon the green earth. When man was entirely blessed he was placed in a gar ded—-not merely a patch for cabbage and po tatoes, three perches square ant! closed in by a paling fence—but comprehending grounds of vast extent and boundless magnificence, adorned with flowers and enriched with fruita. Hill and dale, forest and fountain, shady walk* and sunny slopes, rich fields and ver dant meadows, with four great rivers rolling through them, made a landscape, such as no aya has ever seen since the fall. It was here, that heaven and all happy constellations shed their selecteit influence oa the marriage of am first parents. Imagination has never painted a scene of perfect happiness without similar surroundings. Scenes of idyllian beauty from the principal feature in the heav en of every religion, whether true or false.— The Elysian Fields ol the Greek mythology, and the Paradise of Mahomet, are ready ex amples. The land which flowed with milk • and honey was, to the Jew, a type of that belter country, to which he should go after hie journey through the wilderness of life was closed. And many a Christian, when his soot recoiled from the dark stream of death, hae felt his coorage revived by the assurance, •bat "Sweet fields beyond this swelling flood Stand drese'd in living grsen." Other occupations ere followed for the wealth end fame they produce, but agrioultore is crowded wttb amateurs, who pursue il for its own sake; and thousands feel the same de sire, whose narrow means forbid them to in dulge their wishes- When Ciocinnauus aban doned the leadership of the mightiest empire io the world, to hurry home and finish his ploughing before it got to late in the seasoo, and When Washington retired from the Pres idency, to cultivate hie farm, they both yield ed to an Inclination as common as it was nat ural. The praise they have received for it, |l a thousand times greater than tbsy deser r-p Jhe passion for wealth, or for power, aiS* undoubtedly predominate in ions persons; but !o*e for the simple pleas nres of a qouutry life is seldom extinguished in any sane man's miud. These natural tastes, however, do not ac count for all the solicitude, which is felt for the prosperity of agriculture. Our interest in it it marvelously quickened by the fact that our bread depends upon it. It is the art pres ervativa of all ails. Its success lies at the foundation of the general welfare. The Iruita of the farmer's labor supports the industry of all other classes. The ultimate reward for every epeoiea of toil must come directly or indirectly from the earth, that common inoth- W| BLOOMSBURG, COLUMBIA COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY, OCTOBER 11, 1855. " Whose womb immeasurable, and infinite breast, Teems and feeds all." But though it be trite that agriculture is the most useful, as well as the most attractive, of all the pursuits, it is equally undeniable, that it has advanced more slowly than any other towards the perfection of which it is believed to be capable. Speaking comparatively, it cau scarce be said to have advar.oed at all. In every thing that aids commerce and man ufactures, improvements are made, which have changed the whole face of human soci ety. Those interests are projected forward into the future, with a force which overleaps centuries, while agriculture creeps on with the slow pace of the hours. In other depart ments ingenuity and skill have supplied the place of labor, but the hard toil of the hus bandman has not been promptly lessened, nor bis profits in any striking manner iooreased.' Even the useful improvements that have been invented are slowly and suspiciously accepted. No class of people iu the world, exoepl lawyers, are more reluctant, than far mers, to change an old mode of procedure for a better one. This has been said and felt, as a great mis- 1 fortune, by those who are determined to amend it if they can. They do not believe, that there is any inherent difficulty in the na ture of the subject, which should make the progress of agriculture less, than that of oth er bianches of industry. Scientific men and practical ra^n —men who think, and men who work—are everywhere giving their attention to this, as the greatest of human concerns, j If the effort be successful, those who aid in it will earn a title of public gratitude, such as no conqueror ever won with his sword. One of the forma which this movemen 1 has taken is that of Industrial Exhibitions— The great shows at the Crystal Palaces of New York and London have done some good. It is certain that the Stale Fairs have been exceedingly beneficial. But County Exhibitions when they become general will be fairly worth all others pnt together; be cause their effect "and influence come direct ly home to the business and bosoms of tbe very persons, by whom alone the cause must be curried through. It is on the local socio' ties, that the chief reliance is placed. I trust that the day when an Agricultural Society was formed here, will be an era, on which yonr memories and those of your children, will love to linger. To make the society useful, it is necessary that we should be as nearly unanimous as possible. We must disarm hostility wherev er we find it, and rouse the indifferent to ao ( live exertion. We may reasonably hope, that what we see and hear on this occa sion will contribute something to that end. 1 do not see how an} man can withhold hie assistance from you—much less how any one can oppose you—unless he belongs to one or other of the four clasres, which I am about to enumerate. 1. There are men who think that Agricuilture is wholly incapable ol any improvement whatsoever. With them farming i farming, and nothing more: k towi edgecan Sot do it better,nor ignorance worse; the business is now, and was when Adam left the gatden of Eden, in as perfect con dition, as it ever can be. 2. Others believe, that though much more might be known, it ■s not best that they should know too much, especially abotlt their own business. In their opinion the tree of knowledge continues to bear a forbidden fruit, and no man can make himself a perfect fool except in one way,and that is by being wiser than bis father. 3. Tboso who belong to the third class assert, that agricultural societies are not the fit and proper means of spreading among tbe people the knowledge which they admit might, and ought to be, communicated in some way. 4. Tbe fourth set ere almost too contemptible to be mentioned. They bear to the country the same relation that hardened sinners do to the church They don't care. You may convince them, that this course is a good one ) and still its success would give tbem no pleas, ure, its lailure no pain. Such people never regard anything beyond their own most im mediate and most selfish interests. It would be an insult to tbis assembly to suppose that it contains a single person of the description last mentioned. Ido not be lieve it does. It will be sufficient therefore lor all present purposes to show, that great and very desiruble improvements may be made in agriculture by means of Agricultural Socie ties. Improvement—what do we mean by that | word 1 An art ia improved simply by the nse of more science in the practice of it I know very well that the mention of scientif ic farming suggests to many minds tbe idea of a model /arm, conducted on fanciful princi ples, by some soft-handed gentleman, with plenty of money and not much common sense—a place pleasant enongb to look up on, but very expensive—absorbing annually from, other sources of the owner's income, three or foar timet as much as it produces.— But this ia not what I mean. The improve ments 1 speak of, are those which will light en labor and swell the profits; improvements which can be measured by the inoreaaed value of yoOr land, end the additional num ber of dollars in your purse at tbe end of each year. The earth ia a machine, with certain pow ers, which are in constant motion, daring tbe summer season, carrying on the process of vegetation. Like other machine!, it is lia ble \Q get out of order. It also resembles other machines in the Ryot, that tbe value of iu producu depend mainly on the akiii and care of those who attend it. Badly managed, it turn* out bed woik, in email quantities, and its powers are speedily exhausted. With more skill, it will yield larger and bettet pro- ducts, with less labor and expense, while its capabilities will become greater by use.— The knowledge, necessary to keep this grain and fruit-making machine running to the best advantage, is agricultural sci ence. If you relied lot a living on a water mill or a steam engine, you would not be content, without knowing as much about its structure, and the laws of its motion, aa would enable you to get the most out of it with the least wear and tear. This would be mechanical science. ... , Science is the handmaid of art. The lat ter cannot exist, even in a rude state, without the former. Ido not soy, that every artisan is bound to comprehend the whole theory ol his trade. But he should know—or, at least, he shouhl not refuse to know—the practical results of other peoples' experience, aa well as his own. Very little is done in ttrta world by mere force. Blind labor swells its mus cles, and strains its nerves, to no purpose.— The miner digs in vain, until geology tells him the position of the treasure ho seeks.— The dyer cannot make his colors adhere, un less chemistry furnishes him a mordant. Op tics must leach the painter the law of per spective, before hie picture will stand out on the canvass. The vessel of the mariner will float at random, nntil he learns from natural philosophy, that the magnetic needle points to the pole. It is thus that Science aids us in the com monest business of life, and scarcely claims the work as her own. Siar-eyed and glorious as she is, she disdains not the humblest em ployments. She comes to you, with benev olence and truth beaming from her face, and offers her service, not only to decorate your houses and train the flowers in your garden plots, but to fashion your implements, to compound yonr manures, to sow and gather your crops—to relieve you, in short, from a whole world of drudgery, and to soaller plen ty all over the smiling land. She will put time and space under Jyour command, and pour out uncounted heaps of treasure at your feet. It was of her thai Solomon spoke. when he esid : "Her merchandise is richer than the merchandise of silver, and tbe gain thereof greater than fine gold. She is more precious than rubies, and all thou cans't desire is not to be compared unto her. Length of d ays is in her right hand, and in her left hand riches and honor." Without Science, man the rnlet of this world, would be the most helpless of all ani mated beings. His Creator made him the monarch of the earth, and gave him domin ion over it, to govern and control it; to levy unlimited contributions upon it, and convert everything in it to his own use. But he found himself at the head of a revolted empire. Ail its physical forces were in a state of insurrec tion against bis lawful authority. The inte rior animals were his enemies. The storms poured their fury on bis unsheltered head. He was terrified by the roar of thunder, and the lightning seared his eye balls. He was parched under the hot sun of summdr, and in winter he was pierced by the cold. The eoil, cursed for his sake, produced thorns and thistles. The food that might sustain his life grew beside the poison that would destroy it, and he knew not how to distinguish the one from the other. The earth had bid iter min erals deep in ber bosom, and guarded them With a rampart of thick-ribbed rocks. Tbe rivers obstructed his passage; the mountains frowned their defiance upon htm; and the, forert spread its gioom around him, breath ing a browner horror upon the dangers that beset his way. If he left the dry land and trusted himself to the oeean,the waters yawn ed to eugulph him, and the tempest came howling on bis track. He seamed au exile and an ontcaat in the world of which he was made td be the sovereign. But Science comes to the rescue ol the powerless king from his misery and degradation. Gradual ly he learns from her (he laws of his empire, | end the means by which his rebel subjects may be conquered. From age to age he accumulates the knowledge, that clothes him with power, end fills his heart with courage. Step after step he mounts upward to the throne which God commissioned him to fill, 110 holds a barren sceptre in his hand no lon ger. Creation benda to do him homage. The subjugated elements own him for their lord, yield him their fealty, and becomes the ser vants of his will. The mine surrenders its treasures; tbe wilderness blooms around him like a new Eden ; the rivers and the sea bear hia wealth upon their bosom; the winds waft hie navies round the globe ; steam, the joint product of fire and water, becomes his obe dient and powerful slave; the sunbeams are trained to do his painting; tbe lightning leaps away to carry his messages; and tbe earth works with ceasless activity to bring forth whatever can ministai to his gratification. But tbe whole of his empire has not yet been entirely subdued. The richest portion of itMbe agricultural been mnch neglected; and there he has won but a par tial supremacy. Science is Organizing an "army of occupation" to march into it—to ' lake complete possession—to tame the re ! hellion of Natofe—and to bring alt her pow | era under (ho absolute away of man, their imperial master. Yon will volunteer for the war, when you think how mucb has been effected in Other departments by similar ex-' pedhious. Tbe fight is not to be dangerous, nor the result doubtful. At the worst, you will only be annoyed for a while by Igno rance and Error, those savage, bat not very formidable buah.fighttfs. who will bang up f , your flank and rear. Tbe victory, which ust come, will crown you with laurels, bloodless, but gieen with an everlasting ver dure, end load you tstilb spoils to eqtioh you and your children in l| coming generation*. Troth and Right God and oar Country. Every one knows that this is an age of progress. No one is so ignorant as not to know, that in modern times the laws of na ture have been revealed with a fulness, ehd defined with a precision, unparalleled at any former period. It is equally well known, that these discoveries have been used, with prodigious eflect, in all the arts, except ag riculture, to which they are applicable. The facts and figures, which mark some of the capital points of Ibis progress, will not be for I repeat, that science stands ■eady to do for you all that she has done and is doing for others. A single steam engine now carries at the rate of five hundred mile a day, the same quantity of goods which, forty years ago, it required seven hundred arid forty horses to haul at the rate of fifteen milqs a day. In the busioese of weaving one man now does with esse, what it taxed the hard labor of twelve hundred to perform before the in vention of the power loom. All sorte of manufactures are carried on in ways so mueh superior to those whiob were used, even one generation ago, that goods of every description are famished to the con sumer very much cheaper, aud many of them at less than one tenth of their former price ; and this, although the demand has been enormously increased, snd%ie profits of tbe manufacture are mucb greater than ever. Macaulay says that in tbe reign of Charles It—not farther back than twice the length of an old man's life—a letter sent by mail from London to one of the midland counties of i England, where it would go now, in four or I five hours, was as long in reaching its desti nation as it would be at this day in going from London to the interior of Kentucky. A man may s'art from here, cross tbe At- j laotic, visit every capital city in Europe, aud return home again, in less time than used to be required for a trip to St. Louie. The means by which those who "go down to the great sea in ships," have brought their art to its present etale. is an illustration, as striking as any that could be given, of the practical use which has been made of scien tific discoveries. It is an old tradition, that the first idea of navigation was suggested to •he mind of an ingenious savage, by seeing a hollow reed, which had been split longi tudinally, floating on the water. He took the hint and made himself what, in weatern phrase, would be called a "dug out." In process of time oars were added. Then came a more complicated vessel, with sails to move, and a rudder to guide her. In this, a bold navigator would venture from headland to headland, keeping one eye carefully on shore and the other one on the cloods. At length they learned, from the old Chaldean shenherds, how to steer b) the stars. With this little knowledge of astronomy they went far away from land, though it became whol ly useless just at the lime it was most need ed—when the skies were over-clouded and tbe tempest came out on the deep. Naviga- 1 lion stood still at that point for thousands of years, because it was believed (as some farmers now believe of their art,) that it was already too perfect to be improved. But see what modern discoveries have brought it to. The mariner now leaves the port of his de parture, with a serene and steady confidence in his resources. Astronomy, natural philos ophy, optics, magnetism—tbe whole circle of the physical sciences—and numerous in struments, contrived with the most exquisite meohanical skill, are all at his command.— He can measure his rate of Bailing exactly, and knows the course he is on with absolute certainty. When he is a thousand miles out, if he doubts the accuracy of his reckoning, he is able to correct it. He lifts to his eye a I tube, fitted with glasses, through which he I can see far out into illimitable space—many millions of miles beyond the reach of his unassisted vision. He ascertains the relative position of some awful distant world ; and thence, with the help of his chronometer and his nautical almanac, he calculates his lon gitude. Auother observation with a different instrument upon another celestial body gives him tbe means of finding his distance from the equator. Combining these two results, he pots his finger upon a spot in the chart, "and says, with undoobdng confidence, "I am precisely there." Geography tells bira where to steer hie vessel for the port of her destination, and how to avoid all the dan gers that lie between. He holds her head to the true course, and fearlessly stretches away over the datk blue waters, and they bear him onward like the horse that know eth his rider. When to this is added the pow er of steam to propel him, it may well be said that ho hae conquered both wind and wave. Fire may consume his vessel, or an icebtrg may shatter it; but tbe ordinary perils of the sea are reduced almost to notb ing. Our all-wise Creator hae endowed ue with no faculty in vain. He permits us to discov er no useless truth. Some, which appeared the most unpromising and barren, have borne the richest fruit. A nameless philoso pher, somewhat more than threa thousand years ago, was handling a piece of.gmber, called in his language electron. He saw, that when it was briskly robbed, it bed the pow er of attracting and holding to it certain light enbstances. He thought it was endued with some kind aft animal life. This satisfied him, and no better explanation of the marvel was given for several centuries. Yet there wai the germ of that science, out of which arose the Voltaic-pile, and the Galvanic battery, whose powerful inteirogations of uature have compelled her to yield up the moat impor taut secrets of chemistry. Still no one dream ed of tbe identity of lightning and eleotrioily; and Franklin's letter, auggolliog it, waa read in tbe Royal Society' at London amid roars of laughter. Neither philosophers nor un learned mtn could believe that the cfaokliug noise, produced by rubbing a cat's back, wascaused by the same agent which "splits tbe nnwedgeable and gnarled oak." But Franklin quietly drew it down from tbe cloud along the string of his kite, and be knew that his name was linked forever with the grandest discovery of the age. It was im mediately turned to praoiical account. In every part of the civilized world iron rods arose above the houses, and pointed towards heaven, to catch the lightning and lead it away. Franklin had accomplished for ell timid people, what Maobeth desired for him self, when he wished, that he might —Tell pale hearted fear it lies, sleep in spite of thunder. But the end was not yet. Tbe great triumph of the amber science was stiff to be achieved. You see it now in the vast system of electric wires distributed ail through the country, along which the "sulphurous and thought executing fires," go flashing with intelligence, wherever they are sent by the will that con trols there—bearing the news of life and death over mountain, and lake, end river, and valley—clearing thousands of miles at a single bound. By means of this amazing instrument, the eloquence cf the statesman thrills in the nerves of the people at each ex tremity of the nation, almost as aoon as it is uttered at the capiiol; the friend a*, one side of the continent takes counsel with hit frier.d at the other, as if they stood face to face; and the greeting of the far-off husband leapa in an instant to the heart of his wife, and makes the fireside ol his distant home glad with the knowledge of his safely. Science has extended her dominion even over regions which seem to be entirely ruled by the fickle sceptre of Chance. Life is proverbially uncertain; yet nothing can be truer than the life tables of an Insurance Company, when its officers desire to make them so. The destiny of each homan indi vidual ie hid in deep obscurity—shadows, clouds, and darkuess rest upon it, and con ceal it from every eye except the ail-seeing One. But disease and mortality do their work on large communities by general laws. The average duration of life, and the average amount of sickness, in a nation, oan be counted before hand with perfect accuracy. Tbiis, while the individual man ie a mys tery to be solved by Omniscience alone, man in the aggregate is reduced by hie brother man to a mathematical problem. We dare not boast cf much improvement in taw or polities. Indeed, they seem to be growing worse. While other things are rising, they have a. fatal proclivity for the downward track. They darken with error in the full blaze of surrounding truth. But med icine has advanced with magnificent strides. Life is much longer, and health far better, than it used to he. When the cholera came to London in a form so frightful that every one was appelled by the report of its rav ages, the mortality was not greater than it had been at the healthiest times a hundred and fifty years earlier. Truly did Solomon 6ay, that wisdom has length of days iu her right hand. What the trade of the Mississippi and the Hudson was before steamboats—what the manufacture of cotton was before the days of | Arkwright or Whitney—what ocean naviga tion was before tbe invention of the compass ! —what land traveling was befors railroads— what medicine was when a patient was steamed for the small-pox—such is agricul ture in tbe present stage pf its progress. It will not have its due until it is up, at feast, to their present condition. There ie a certain amount of skill and science applied, every day, to the Working oi this machine, which we call the earth. It would be as wise to forget all that, as to learn no more. He, whs has a race to run, is not surer of losing the prize, when he turns upon his tracks, than when he stands still in the midst of his ca reer. To lookback,over the ground already traversed, will be an incentive to the work, which is yet to be accomplished. If some thing has been done in the dark time, that is long since past, what may we hope for with the sun-light of modern civilization beaming on our path 1 It may startle some of you, and sound in your ears like a slander, to tell you, that you are all aciehtifio farmers. It is true, nevertheless. That knowledge, wheth er it be much or little, which ootnes from ex perience, remembered and arranged so as to be ready for use when wanted, is science. There was a lime when it did not exist at all, in any degree. When we reflect how high we are placed by tbe little we have, above those who had none, and what a struggle it must have cost somebody to in troduce it at tbe beginning, we shall appre ciate its value, and perhaps, make an effort to get more. Let your imaginations eawy von back to the time when agriculture was in its infancy —before the earliest dawn of Greek civiliza tion. In those days men depended princi pally upon the chaae for a living. They ate the flesh, and domed themselves with tbe skins of wild beasts. Fruits and other vege tables of spontaneous growth added to their luxuries, in snmmer. They were not long in discovering one fundamental law of na ture, namely.' that agade deposited in the ground would grow, and produce similar seeds in larger quantities. But they knew nothing of the difference between one soil and another. They preferred the poorest, beeauseit waa easiest cleared and, lying higher up on tbe ridges, it needed no drain ing. Here they made. holes in the ground with their sticks, and dropped the eeed a few inches below the surface. The (eat wu left to nature. If such cultivation gave them a two or three fold crop, they were incky. It happened mucb oftener that its growth was choked with weeds, or that it met with some other evil chance, by which 11 The green com perished e're his youth at tained a beard." The planting and gathering were left to wom en and children : the men dispised auch work, as being inconsistent with their honor and dignity. Hunting and fighting were the em ployments in which they found pleasure and glory, as well as food and clothiog. But there was one man among them more thoughtful and observant than all the rest. He had watched the unfolding vegetation, from the sprouting of the eeed to the maturity of the fruit, with a keen peroeption of the whole marvelous and beautiful process; and he de voted hie attention to the rearing of useful grains, with a pleasure which be had never felt in the exoiiement of the chase. He dis covered the proper season for planting ;he noticed that weeds were unfriendly to the growth oi his crops;he found that mixing certain substances, such as ashes and de composed leaves, with the eoil, wonld in crease its productiveness; he learned that stirring tbe ground about tbe roots of a plant would make it thtive more rapidly ; he even got himself a kind of hoe made, by some cunning worker in iron. Here was aphilos. opher; whose intellectual stature rose high above that of hie leilowa. Being a patriot alto, and willing to do good for his country men, he conceived the thought of persua ding them to quit hunting and wir. a surer living from the earth. At hie request, they assembled under the spreading oaks, to hear hie plana; and this was the first agricultural meeting—l will not say the first on record, for Ido oot know that it is recorded—but certainly the earliest you ever heard of. Tbe sage unfolded hie new science to them, pro ving it, as he went along, by the facts of his own experience. The chase, he said, was a precarious basinets at best, while agriculture would be a sure and steadfast reliance. He told them, that he himself, with the moderate labor of hia own hands, bad gained in a sin gle season, what would sustain life longer and better, thah all tbo spoils taken, during the same time, by the best ten of their hun ters. This, he asserted, was true of an ordi nary season, but sometimes tbe game disap peared entirely. His voice grew deeper, and its tones bad a melancholy impressiveness, as he described the sufferings endured by them all, when they, the strong sons of the wilder ness, with their wives and children, beoame thh prev of gaunt famine and wide wasting pestilence. Tie concluded by promising, that long lives of wealth and contentment should repay litem for a general devotion of their la bor to the cultivation of the earth. No cheers followed the speech, but on the contrary, hoarse murmurs of disapproba tion carne from the multitude, swelling by degrees into loud opposition. The hOw measure was al'acked with all those shallow sophistries—those miserable fallacies so hol low and truthless—with which conservatism arms her ignorant votaries. That solitary defender of truth was overwhelmed by tbe tort of arguments, which are sometimes re produced in modern political meetings and legislative bodies. Some accused him of a deep design upon their liberties. Some de clared that ho had opposed the nation in its last quarrel, and was, in fact, no better than a traitor; One set knew him to be unsound in hia religious faith, and brought all the prejudices of superstition into the field against him. Others charged down upon him with a whole array of " illustrious ancestors," whose opinions, they said, were not like his. Others still there were, who could see no ob jection to the man or the measure, but this waa not on the proper occasion—the time was ont of joint. A portion of the crowd saw, in their much wisdom, that to quit hun ting would enervate their frames and make them a race of cowards. Most powerful of ail, and most profoundly wise in their con ceit, Was the party who declared they would never consent to the enormous sacri fice of property required by euoh an innova tion. They had invested a large capital in bowa, and arrows, ar.u spears, and tfhpa, and knives; and these would atl be nseless if their future occupation was to consist in till ing the gtound. There was oue mighty man there; a blacksmith, who had gained great consequence, and earned innumerable skina, by making tbe weapons which were used in kilting the beasts of the forest. He thought his craft was in danger, and he objected to Agriculture, for the same (eaaon that Deme trius, the silversmith, afterwards opposed Christianity. He pnt an end to all discus sion, by altering a catchword, with just enough of no meaning in it to make his lriends unanimous. He lifted up hia big voice, and cried ont " Great is Diana the Goddess of the bow, and the Patroness of banters." The whole assembly in full cho res echoed lite cry—and there was a great uproar. Tney would have atoned their prophet; for the eight of bis meek counte nance and the recollection oi hie blameless lile exasperated their wrath; but no one pro posed it, and he waa suffered to escape. The primitive apostle of agricultural sci ence waa defeated. He died in the melan choly belief, that bis people were destined to remain forever in barbarism- But not ao. A truth bad been spoked; and troth cannev* er die. It had gone down in tbe shook of tbe first encounter with falsehood, bnt it waa not crushed. Agriculture found an efftoieot champion where anch a thing could at least have been expected. At the great meeting under tbe treee, there waa • little girl, whose patents had both died of sterveliou, end hat [Two Do lars per tarn NUMBER 38. two brothers had perished in the pestilence, which followed the famine. Hanger end its concomitants had carried away every rela tive she ever had. Bbe was gifted by nature with a quick intellect and a kind heart; and her lonely condition bad made her thought' | fol and wise above her years. She listened ito the words of the sage with beaming eye, and flashed cheek, and lips parted in breath less interest. When she heard a proposal to furnish bread in abundance—bread at all times—bread Which would always stay the ravages of famine, whether game was plas ty or scarce—lt roused every faculty of her mind. She knew the whole subject by beast, as soon as she heard it explained. Hence forth she had neither eye nor ear for any | thing else. She gave herself up entirely to the one great task of spraadlng agricultural | science. Every day added to bar know!- ; edge, and to the irresistible pawes with which she impressed It on other minds.-*-* She grew up with a lustrous beauty, which seemed mere than mortal. Her elocution, though gentle and persuasive, had all the vigor which springs from enthusiasm. She swayed those rude men with an influence they had never felt before. One after the other, her countrymen threw away their bowa and spears, and, with hoes in their bands, came and plaeed thcmaelvea under her tutelage. What she was unable to teach, I they learned from their own experiences mutually communicated. Soon all the hiil aides were covered with rich crope of Waving grain, and the heavy timber began to die appear from the bottom land*. Stately Rou tes took the place of mean hovels, Which the hunters had occupied. AU the beasts of the flfllest, which could be made useful to man, were domesticated. The wild boar was captured and tamed for the take of hit | flesh i the sheep submitted to the sheerer; the ox bowed his shoulder td the yoke; and ; the mouth of the horse became acquainted with the bridle bit. The Wild fruits were . transplanted into gardens and orchards, and were totally changed under the influence pf a careful culture. The sour grape became a delicate luxury; the useleee orab to be an apple; the floe expanded into a delicate plum ; and a nameless fruit, resembling the bitter almond, swelled out into & peach, with eurpassing richness of flavor. New imple ments of husbandry were successively inven ted. The plough, the harrow, the eiokle and the scythe, each had its share in mtking the general prosperity greater. Agriculture once established, became the parent of other arts. Navigation, commerce and manufactures added to their wealth.—* Cities rose up, filled with a refined popula tion. The nation giew strong and powerful, and spread its dominion far and Wide. The name of a Greek became synonymous WUh all that was great among men. Their de scendants were painters and sculptors, whp furnished the models for every succeeding generation ; poets, whose sublime strains have been feebly imitated ever since; phi losophers and statesmen, whose Words of wisdom will be heard with reverence to the end of time ; warriors, whose deeds made Thermopylae and Marathon the watobwords of the free, and orators, 1 Who wielded the fierce democratic at will. Shook the arsenal,and fulmined over Greece.' They were not unmindful of the benefac tress, who had given the first impulse to their high career. They assigned her a celestial parentage. Temples were ereoied to honor her. They believed, that though her home had long been fixqd among the stars, she still presided over their affaire and pleaded their cause in the Senate of the Gods. They painted her figure, as they imagined it, ell radiant with supernatural beattty—lter band bearing the horn of plenty, and ber bead garlanded with ears of _wheml. They wor shiped her with all the lervor of idolatrous veneration, and for a long lapse of centuries they knew not, that the labors Of the farm were blessed and rewarded by a greater dei ty than CERES. To this day, we keep ber memory Jive by calling the most useful of agricultural produois after he: name—the d* rial grains. Such, we may suppose, with the transition state of agriculture—the passage from igno rance, barbarism, sloth and banger, to aya* tematic industry, refinement and plenty. It was only a beginning. It has been advan cing somewhat ever since, though the arte which sprang from it have outgrown their parent. Numberless instruments for the la ving of labor and time have been invented. Preparing the ground, towing, harvesting end threshing may all be done now with machin ery vastly improved. The character, nature and value of many products, ere better un derstood. New breeds of stook are introduced. Chemistry analyses every soil, and ahewa precisely what elements it needs to increase its fertility. Highly concentrated manures are imported from the moat distant parts of the world, and others ere manufactured at home, out of substances, which, once, were not only wasted, but suffered to reek their of fensive odots on the atmosphere, and poison the health of the people. In the days of August no, the fields of Ita ly,(then the centre of civilization,) were cul tivated, with an instrument, resembling what we can call a shovel plough—only H seems to have had no shovel. The immediate pre decessor of lite patent plough, in use at the present time, was not mnch better. Meat of you remember it—"a low, long, rakish look ing craft," whose wooden tnouldboard had to be cleaned every ten rods, and ha wrought iron share mad coulter taken to the blacksmith shop at least once a week. The most important improvements yet made in agriculture hare never been adopted bete. A simple fact will show how much
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