qur *nit ablc, • %PULA PRIIDY. By Sophie 167. 1864. Boston: Lee 4- Shepard. Pittsburgh: Davis, Clarke 4. Co. &small volume, bat , deserving a longer notice than many a book Of much larger dimensions. Prudy Perlin had already become a favorite , with the little folks, through the columns- of the Con.. gregationaliat and the Little Pilgrim. In' her present dress; she will be still more welcome to her old isogonal:UM:lees, and will make many new friends. That so many droll conceits should be the offspring of one childish brain, is ,a phenom enon we will not attempt to account for; but that the book has a fascination for little readera —and for Older ones toois a fact of which we have had ocular demonstration. Parents who desire to provide an unusual treat for their chil dren, should introduce them to Little Prudy: BARBARA'S HISTORY: A Nov,el, By Ame lia B. Edwards. Pp. 187. 1864. New-York: flarper_t BroOers., Pitteleurgh:, henry Miner, Fifth Sweet. Why the History of Barbara should ever have been written, or—being written—should ever. be read, we (lama opine. But if any one takes pleasure in reading of the hollowness and wretch edness of fashionable life, the- misery Of mer cenary marriages, thi:sin and suffering ,of un licensed passion, with the narrative of which are interspersed some vivid word-paintings of scen ery and descriptions •of society in some, of its phases, Barbara's Hitterr , virill•suit Ms taste. liINETERT - BENUTIeITh-YEARS ; or, SKETOI/- ES OF A GueL's - Lin, Written by her, sister. With" an introduciion-br Rev. R. S. Foster, D. D. Pp. 241. 1864. liew-York: Harper Brothers. Pittsburgh: Davis, Clarke d• Co., Wood Street ; Henry diner, Fifth Street. The record, by a sister's affectionate band, of a life made beautiful by - gentleness, and purity, and love—a life of which the heartfelt desire was to be good, and to do good—and in which is exhibited the power of Christian faith to over come a dread of death, stronger perhaps than ordinarili found even amongst the young. No one can read without. emotion this touching n ar rative of girlish feelings and fancies, of maturer hopes and fears, and of earnest efforts and strug gles crowned at last-with the believer's triumph. CHRISTIAN MEMORIALS OF THE WAR; or, Senses AND INCIDENTS, illustrative of religious fait h and'rinciple, patriotism and bravery, in our army. With historical notes.. By Horatio . B. Hackett, Professor of Biblical Literature in Newton Theological Institute, Author of .‘ It lustrations.of Scripture," &c. Pp. 250. 1864. Boston : Gould i t Lincoln. New-York : Shel don Co. Pittsburgh : United Presbyterian Board of Publication, Third Street. Price $1.25, Few books present more impressively than this the double aspect of the rebellion, on the one hand the fearful sufferings it has . produeed, and the awful guilt of those who fomented or who have encouraged it, and on the other hand the occasion which it has furnished for the display of the most ennobling virtues, of manly fortitude, of heroic valor, and of Christian graces. The compiler has gathered from the periodical press a large number of facts and incidents well wor-• thy of being preserved in this more permarient form, and illustrative of the character of many of the noble patriots and Christians who have laid their lives as a sacrifice upon the altar of their country. THE BOOK OF DAYS : A Miscellany of Pop . niers Antiquities, in connection with the Cal endar. Including Anecdote, Biography, His tory, Curiosities of Literature, and Oddities of Human Life and Character, Edited by Robert Chamber,. • Published in Monthly Parts, - 64 pages each. Royal Bvo. Price 20 cents each. Parts XXJIJ, XXIV, XXV, XXVI. 1864. Philadelphia : •B. Lipp ineott• Co. Pittsburgh: Henry Hiner, Fifth Street. These numbers copaplete the two volumes which constitute • The Book of Days. Not the antiquarian alone, but the general reathir, will" find in these volumes a large and varied store of facts, incidents, and anecdotes, of curious learn ing,- and of entertainment that is rich in instruc tion too. APPLETON & CO. are doing a lively 'busi ness In every department of Literature. Their announcements for the season will gratify a great variety of tastes: For persons of a statistical turn of mink for any owner of a library, for any man who 'desires to know authentically the progress that the world is making, there is the AnnuAv OTOLOP/EDIA for 1863, containing an immense quantity of useful and reliable information about the important events, ionspionous people, and remarkable facts of 1863. The 'volume is free from any shade of prejudice and partisan bias. It will be ready in a fortnight. In the :line of .romanee, the publishers are about to offer "The .Clever Woman of the Fami ly," by the author of the " Heir of Redcliffe," and " Too Strange not to be . True," by Lady fieorgiana.Fullerton ; two story-tellers who are in high favor, in refined circles. The original and powerful novel "Round the Block," pub-. lished by this house it few months ago, has pass ed to a fourth edition. As a picture of life and manners among certain grades of society in New- York,.it bids fair to become standard. The au thor is understood to be, John B. Bouton of New-York, son of Rev. Dr. Benton, of New-Hamp shire. Two new books of interest to the religious world are forthcoming. One is " . Lyra Ameri cana," or verses of Praise and Faith, from Amer ican poets, selected and arranged by ROY. Geo . T. Rider. The other, " Lyra Anglicans," a Rork of similar character, from devout British poets, arranged after the order of the Apostle's Creed, and edited by the same gentleman. Both volumes will be issued inelegant and appropri ate' styles. Mrs. Jantetion's " Watery , of our Lord," is another tender and beautiful emana tion of her genius, and is regarded in England as her best work. Among the works of a high historical character now in press are the . " Journal of the Peace Con- . grass (official) of 1861;" a continuation :of Meri , vale's Rome; and a fresh instalment of Smith's Popular History of the World. Merivale's Rome is selling well. Three volumes more complete it. One of the daintiest illustrated American books of the season 'will be Rev. Arthur Cleveland Coxe's " Christian Ballads," with seventy-four designs by " Hews," the artist of the "Forest H • um." *rake gtabing. MEtry illen and her Self Will. One Summer afternoon, long ago, there. was a party -of little girls going out ito gath er blneberries. There were Mary and Hat -tie Allen, and Susie Lambert, and natty BrOwn, and half a dozen others. It was Satirday, afternoon,' and they were and frolioksome fie yong colts. The blueberry pasture was a mile or more from the 'village, and the road was rough and grass-grown. ' Only in Stunmer time did the 'children go that way. After a while Mary Allen lingered a lit tle behind. When she looked up, she saw the little party had reached a place where two roads met and were taking the-right band one. Why girls I" she cried,-" that is'nt the way. What are you going there fdr " Yes it is the way," answered 'Susie Lambert. "I remember that great pine tree, and the high rock." "So do I," said Fanny Brown. "And there's the gate that leads to Mr. Henshaw's woods," cried another. 4 1 remember it just as well! Why Mary Allen, we all of us know the way." Now Mary had not lived in the village Hisr father moved there 'only the year before, and she knew -- little of tbe country round, and had been this way only onde. But she was` always' very self-confi dent and- 'positive and was sure now that she-remembered, taking-the left-hand path. She was a head-strong child, who was /ley-, er willing to confess herself mistakeu 134 with a wilful toss of the head, she cried out : " I know better, and I shall go Just where I please. Hatty Allen, come back and we will take the right ioad. See how pleasant it looks, and all down hill." She ran forward, and, catelOg Jur gentle little sister's hand, trotted 'het back, by maim force, to the other road. The girls called after her : " Macyj yon'ye - too_ bad I" '4 Let Batty alono lir " You'll get lost;".some 'one . thing, ackme another. Out that :same old . 43-iant Self- Will had got hold of Mary, and she vroii have her own way. She :Worried Hula Flatx ty, aimed crying, along the downhill path, and soon they were ont of light. The -girls were quite vexed by this Bud. den and foolish outburst, and very sorry - for. poor Hatty. But they - "saidr among them selves : "We can't wait here,. and we can't follow her. It would'nt do any good. She's so set.". So they went on, and by and-by forgot their trouble in •the hurry and delight of.'picking the fruit. • When the h'appy little 'comPany had filled . their pails, and set . out for home, it was. nearly, sunset. ^ Won't mother be glad when she sees what a great lot I've picked ?" WOn't r have blueberries and milk' for supper "And_ *won't Mary 'Allen be sorrrslie did'nt come with us ?" So geld the girls - as they walked along, and one adde&—" I suppose Mary got home hours ago._ She fbund out the blueberries did'nt grow on that road pretty soon, I guess." But when they passed Mr. Allen's house, • Mary's mother was looking out of the win 'dew. With a frightened lobk she called to them: " Where - are Miry and. natty ?" " Have'nt they come home, ma'am ?" and they told her all they_ knew. But she hardly waited to hear them through—she ran for her husband, and, as soon as the horse could be harnessed, he set out with a neighbor's son, who knew the -roads, to hunt for the stray children„- And where were they all, this time? After they parted from the rest, you ban fancy that Mary felt very cross. She made Ratty walk faster than she was able, arid when the poor child whinipered;she grew crosser still, and drew her along faster than ever. But they came to no blueberries. After a time, too, the road entered a,swinnp, and seemed to lose itself in the spongy soil. Before they knew it, their feet were wet and muddy, and at last even wilful Mary could no longer blind herself. She had made a mistake indeed. It seemed dark, too, in the shadow of the thick trees, which was made deeper" by the long, gray moss that hupg heavily down from them. Now that they stood still, all•was so hushed and solemn that Mary's heart smote her with fear. . "Let us go right home, Batty," she said, whirling her round with such a sud den jerk as to throw her down into a pool of muddy water close by. Iler head struck a sharp stibk, and,. when Mary drew her dripping.out•of the water, and laid her on a mossy hillock, the blood began to' trickle down her pale little face. Her;cries of pain and fright echoed through the silent forest, - and- sounded quite alvful to Mary, ' alone there with her in• the gloom. '".hlatnina ! Mamma !" cried Batty, and an echo answered.:---" Mamma!" till the . child fell into a - perfect spasm of Sobbing. What could Mary do ? Selt-Will, now that he had brought,her into such trouble, left her to herself. ".0h; natty, do stop, do try to get up," she said. " Let's go home to mother, and she'll make you all clean and well. Batty tried to,quiet her- Self, and to get up, but fell back crying : "Oh I -can't ; I'm so tired, and my clothes are all wet. nil cold, and my head's burst ing I'm afraid." Tears of remorse and pity came into Mary's Men eYes, as she saw that little head, all soiled and bleed-stained, fall help lessly upon the•sod. She sat down beside her sister and tried to wipe away the flowing blood. Then, get ting,up, she lifted her in her arms, and be `gar, to carry her.horadward. Ilatty, chilled and stunhed, shut her eyes and soon seemed quite unconsoious. , But Mary's strength gave' out, and she was obliged to down to: rest. I cannot describe the alai& when, on trying to rouse natty to walk, she found she could not even wake' her fully. A' few more attempts at carrying her ' and she Bank down in, despair. The streakti 'of sun shine that had glimmered through the wood • faded quite away, and still she sat beside that foym—herself almost rigid with fear. She could not leave it, she must wait for _help to come. The darkness grew deeper and the silence more profound: Mary, thought of the cheerful home, :where their kind mother Was, expecting and how distressed she, would be if she could, see them now. Then she remembered how dia.. - obedient and ungrateful she had been, and how the wilfulness _and selfconfidence that had brought her into this trouble was al ways grieving • that good mother. And now came thoughts of God, her . . heavenly Father. She seemed alone with Him, and she -must answer to Him for this sin. There, - in the darkness she saw herself and her sins as she never did before. Would God listen to such a wicked girl, she thofight. She must pray to him, •her need was so great. And she did truly pray; kneeling on the ground, with bitter tears she confessed her fault and besought the Lord to save Batty, and to send them. help. Well, though the minutes seemed heirs, they did pass away, and at 'last in' the.-ttiii light, Mary heard the sound'of wheels. It was her father as you will guess. Mary's heart would have bounded for joy, as' she called aloud, and his voice answertid, but it was too heavy with fear about flatty. What would he say when he saw how, sick and strange she looked ? ,As the .wagon came near, and he jumped hastily down, She cried, " Oh I papa, punish me, punish me ! Something's the matter with Batty. She r don't answer me. She's been all cold, and now she's burning up." Mr. Allen lifted his little darling teuder ly, and only said, with clinked voice,. " Mary we must hurry. home." , He felt that - God had taken' Mary'fi pun- . . ishment into his own hands. For .though it had been great already, it did -net end hem_ Battylad a terrible brain bibught 'on 'by the Me*, and'the chill and 'fatigue , of that afternoon. She did get well at kat,. but for long weeks her life was ingreat:danger. Sad weeks-they were for the guilty Mary, butithey-wereoMeful, too., They wrote deep in her heart the leiestm.sho, learned the forest theY,- broke her stub- - , born will. She felt now how little she could trust 'herself, and how much •she needed guidance.: She • - She grow to be an hUmble child, jearn ing obedience to her parents sad' to God, .her best Friend. For, dear ch'ildr'en; f you ,do not trust and obey your parents;:how can you trust God and obey Him? While; we are children, we must give ; up our will to those who,. are older' and wiser; and all our life through we must give it up t,o`p-od. He only asks it, because, like - Mary Allen,. we don't know what is best for us, and sure, to stiffer „for it if ,we are left to our Own • _ • Row to Curt a Bad Temper. " I have a bad temper, how can I help it ? A little thiig puts -ms out, and then I am sure to be very angry." •: — Bitchwere - the words of a littlo'boy • named b'red Smith. , And. : as :h e , spoke them, It Trown rested on his face. , A lady, who was on a visit at the house of Fred's father, heard these words. The few ...days. she had been in the'familyhad brought to — her notice the bad conduct o - the- little boy. As she had boeil, grieired byLit, - she'felt that it was her 4.14ty . to spa* to him about it • - , r ;'0 Ode evening they were together in the library. Soon. she began to ,talk .to ' about the folly- and..sia of allowing .his Ali- gry temper to overcome hlrn. . . - "Try to -cure it,,Fred," . said she, "for'it must make. yotinnhaipy in.yOur own mind,- - ILI it makes. you unlovely in the-tee: of ,your Consider , too, how . ;wick ed. : "iris the 4 sight of God. 'lf 3 yo:a i was4l, 1 - ;sei'htiCaneth conduct appears, aud,lishatlit :r.,leadst4o read the story 4f'.Cain in (> eiiesia 8- 2 15,-and then turn to Matthew v : 21-24, and hear what our Lord says of anger." PRE BYTERIAN BANNER.---WEDNESDAY, JUNE 22 "I will try to cure my bad temper, that I am resolved," said Fred; but he made the resolve in his own'strength. The next day showed him how weak he was in himself; for only a slight affront he flew into a pas. sion with his cousin Charles, who got be fore him in class; he scolded his sister Nary, who had by accident broken the tail of his kite, and he burst into a fit of anger when he stumbled over the yard dog as it lay basking in the sunshine. A few weeks after the lady had left, he sat down and wrote her a letter, in which he said : " To-day is my birth-day, and I mean to turn over a new leaf, as father calls it. I have quite made up my mind to attend to what you told me. I will never more be angry. I will always fight against my naughty temper. ; It ,makes me very un happy, and 'my parents are unhappy too. , And you said , that it offended the holy God." ' Now, this was quite right; but then Fred had forgotten to pray. He had again resolved in his Own strength to fight against his temper. Re had not asked to be for given- his past . sins, nor sought help from . God to overcome his evil: passions. The kind lady to Whom he wrote sent a .reply, in which were these words " I am glad to hear that you have made up your mind boldly to resist alr -bad tem per. That is as it should be.; .but we' can do nothing without the-help of the Holy Spirit, nor can we,hope to be pardoned, except we believe 'our Lord Jesus Christ. The Apostle: aur felt that he could do all things if Christ gave him strength; and we know, what he overcame, and what he did, through the grace of his'Saviour. not forget 7 then to seek of God for that help you need. If you seek, yeu shall find Fred mod,: indeed, prwand God heard' his, prayer. From "thit'linie he began to "watch and pray." He then fought with success; and becarne knoWn among all his friends as " Little Fred, the kind4empered boy." So let us all watch against whatever may lead us into evil, or ur kwaketi - ,bad tempers within us. Let us watch against the first risings of 'passion in - " = heart, and watch unto . prayer. Whilst we pray that we enter not into temptation,4ie must avoid it, pass . not by it, turn from, it,-and pass away. "-- Prov. iv :'5. And if Iv'e are at any time overcome by an "dill - heart leading us astray, let us truly repent of: our= sin; and ask for more grace for the 140 to come while we look in faith to Jews,. that, for his sake, we may be forgiven, , When for some little, insult given, - My angry passions rise, - I'll.think how - Jestm,eame from heaven, ' And bore his. injuries . And when upon the cross he bled, With ali bis foes in view,' " Father, forgive ; them," 'twas he said, "They know not what, they do." Row far is it to Heaven 44 This day shalt thou be with-me in Paradise," said the dying Saviour- to the penitent thief. It is not far to heaven; it is not a day's journey. 'The angel messen ger came all the way_ from heaven in a few minutes to Daniel, while he was .speaking in prayer. The SaviOnr ascended to heav en from Olivet, and was soon out of sight. The dying.saint closes his eyes in death:— sleeps in Jesus—and opens them in heaven. Sometimes the departing . Christian hears the, songs and music of .heaven even before his immortal Spirit stretches its wings for the final Right. Vow far IS it then Fto heaven? Young reader, in all. your inquiries yin this anxious, inquiring world, have you made' this one inquiry ?• We often hear the weary traveler ..inquiring :how far it; is to the plade of • rent. We hear the lost wanderer inquiring how far it is to his home. YQII profess, it may be, to desire au eternal home in heaven. Why- not, then ' ask, " How far is it to heaven ?„" It may be but a little distance from some of my readers. You may be already within the sound,of its happy. 'voices, and, but for the:" vail .i or.humartity," they might even now fall upon the ear. But you will soon hear them. -Only: a little, very little far ther on, and heaven will be attained, if you are found faithful. - jfarm, IJ:adien t &T. A gentleman who had been engaged in preparing for publication the "Returns of the Industry of Massachusetts," - and the. `.‘ Registration of Births, Deaths, and Mar riages," including the diseases of which our peoples had died, informed us that there Were more' cases of -death-.:from insanity among the families of farmers than in any other occupation I We were surprised at the statement, as it was. the reverse of what we had always supposed to be the fact. Subsequent inquiry Riad observation, how= ever, have somewhat reconciled us to the unwelcome truth. The prevalence of this terrible malady among men 'engaged in farming, we infer,, l is often occasioned by the want of - e l proper action, and develop 7 ment of the brain—the disease not mum-, ing a spasmodic and.excited form so much as a giaival sinking-into a half-idiotic or imbecile condition; 'that often ends in a:6- ,taLlose of mental powdr.. But in the cue _Of wo_then - An cause of :the malady may be traced to intense mental activity, to unceas-, ing :care, 'and to the =overtasking in every 'Power, both of mind ind bay, in the evek-, recurring , and:perpettialduties and idsp - ofti: sibilities ofihe'family. Let us , present a brief sketch of actual life, of which thousands have sat-foi the , Picture. It is that of a young farmer. }le ' marries, and for a year or two his wife can do very well without help ; but by-and-hy his work is:too much for :him alone, and he must`have a'hand ; and„ . thie by one, little children increase thefathily, until thewife'S burden- ,much heavier than *hem Ate took : it up. But he is just.getting a sthit, and if:they want to get , rich (as sveryboily do e s) they natist-:eeohntnize so she g ets' a lon g *Mo a t She rises early, , gets brnakfa4, Often, for several dresses the ~ohildren, Wishes dishes, Wirth thilk, ; &urns, pethaps, sweeps rooms, makes beds, prepares dinner, " clears up," snatches an . hour, to ; 'keeps a restless baby . quiet lionnwhilegeti: . autiVer ptits children to, bed, and after-they and husband ar e restin g fiom their weariness, sits up to sew, that sh e p a y,e a y e payi ng a seamstress, Ins addition to- this . daily routine, 'she' thintf all the:Washing, irening; baking, spr . uh,- ,bing,'housOnteining, 'soap-rnit)cing,, ;aid hUglilling.drork;'it eats so, ranch to hire, help.; and at the same tithe, enacts Ihe'part of lady of the , house and entertainslhe coth pang Sb, Ythir atter'Yeftir'-aheloils and 'drud g e's; not, allowing herself - Oppoftunity for im proving her -mind, ; ' so that she may be'ai' better guide and -counsellor for' her drib' dree; ' At length hor - onbe fair face is faded and Vtieiiirorn i and-herself now and tEgii, prostratedl4. fits, 4,;"ples ,only to reside her wearying as soon her returning' strength permits- , -And thus she -yearily liecomesltufsrableto bear the burden cif her iiirOading hOselkold 'lag mane nen ( leave the .wife6to driw twateaud _Oarry. weoa s apittwt for thataby - theyethirric:itlrwornan'e4iikee, to Mend Ireizt4io fretffr=idideeticci , or Ali& mother must work with it on her arm, While they read the paper and talk with the hired men. The farm increases in value and fertility, Farinere - Wives. and the husband's labor becomes lighter, as he is able to hire more help; but it is still expected of the- wife to do all the housework, with what little help• the elder children, if they' are girls, can give her. At length—through this ceaseless appli cationthey are ready to build; and when the c'omfortable new house is finished and nicely furnished, and the children are be ginning to be a real help to her, the pale, sickly wife and mother lies down to die ! She has saved by, ceaseless, wearying toil, hundreds of dollars for her husband,, and he hai lost what money is powerless to re call ; the companion of- his youth, the one who' has walked beside him and cheered him through life's most thorny paths ! And such untimely deaths are whisyered among friends as "mysterious sprovidences," in stead,of the neglect of a proper household economy on the farm. These - views are partly, corroborated by statements in a recent report upon the In sane Asylum at Hartford, Ct. The super intendent says "that of- one hundred and eighty-seven feinale patients thirty-four per cent. were the wives of farmers and -me chanics." The consideration of the causes which: led to =this most natural result show ed that between nursing;: the accumulation of hoUsehold duties and drudgery, and the miserable, short.sighted economy which of ten led the husband to refrain frum supplying the necessary domestic assistance, the poor, heart-broken and - diseouraged wife had lost in turn her appetite, her rest, and her strength, her nervous system had become prostrated, and, sinking under her burdens, she had_ sought refuge in -the Asylum. Such is the language of the report. `This great 'error has been a common one, 'and ,- .has desolated .many .a farmhouse. It • grows out of an overweening desire to ac cumulate too fast. We knew men, now, with whom - this is a passion that overrides 'everything else. Sometimes, it is manifest ed, i k u a desire: to add sl96more to their railroad or other stock,. at others to in crease the acres of their land, or again to hold the notes- of their =neighbors. Tlds passion makes them mean to them selves, mean to their families, and mean to, ; .kheir .country, and they habitually cheat all these for the sake •of 'hugging to their serdid souls a little, more of that which they must soon leave, and, perhaps to be quarrelled iihont'by others All this is bad economy; - We,do not, advocate ex travagance in anything, but only that hap py commingling of labor and leisure, of recreation and study with our daily duties and that sympathetic association, which gives -life a .charm,- and which cannot fail tolnereas.e our real happiness.- Let us ten more . frequently to' the promptings of a , . refined taste, and do some things"'about our homes with reference, to, beauty, as well as utility. These will have a happy influence upon the mind, habits and character; will light up the home with sweet affections, andhed a fragrance over all its duties. `The children wilteatch these virtues and carry theta forth, to the world, to purify and strengthen , taan there, and will ever look back to such a homestead as the well- String that sends out whatever dignifies and ennobles our. natures. And this will be true farm economy:—Nito-Eugland _Far mer. - Agricultural larcutions. From the remarks on agricultural imple ments in -the - Introductory Report of the Commissioner orPatents for_lB63, we take' the following extracts : ( 4. Mach attention has also been given in this class to machines for sowing wheat, oats, etc, which are, attached to the - body of:the eperator, worked by a crank, and distribqting the seed broadcast by centrifu gal,:force. = Next in number and import ance are oultiVaters which appear to have assumed almbst every_conceivable form and style. The most noticeable feature in con nection with them is the making of them tall, and so constructing the frame that they may readily pass over corn from four to six feet bigh, and so arranging and ply th , _ ding shares that they may be readily controlled in their movements, and enable the operator to adapt their movements to the, irregularity of the plants in, the row. This feature, as Might be expected, eine mites from the West, where the hoe is but little: used in the culture of this plant. ' " Machines for thrashing and cleaning krain have received a large share of atten tion, and have been' rendered so complete -that the grain is 'now thrashed, cleaned, measured, and bagged, and the straw stack ed, at one operation. Improvements have , also been made in the, machines by which the dust is taken up and conveyed away, and 'also by which the bands are cut and the sheaves _fed into the thrasher. Con nected with these is a class of machines of recentArigin, by which clover is thrashed, separated from the straw, hulled and cleaned; at one operation. "Considerable improvements have also been made in a large number oftniseellane onsAiMPlements connected with agriculture, such as manure-distributors, fruit -gather ers, cow-Milkers, fiehtrollers,. Cattle and sheep racks, farm and- frait-ladders, egg hatching machines, and machines for Man-. ufacturing cigars and tobacce in all its varieties, potato-diggers, straw and *vegeta hle _cutters, stone-gatherers, bog-cutters for smoothing rodgh meadow. land and adapt ing-it to the use of the mower, boxes and baskets for packing and ciniveying fruit to market, etc., etc. Indeed, - throughout this , entire class there:apPears to be an increased' .activity:in the .effort,tp substitute: litber-sav- Ing machinery for manual lahor, and -juilg: pig - from appearances, with most beneficial redulti. -' • AccThe number of.aiveating machines. ittenufactured during the .year; .as learned from - reliable - Sources, is - upwards of 4,0,000, while the number inprocess of manufae tare, .rattiredler . :the 'harvest of 18E4, estimated at over'9o,ooo machines.":. . • New. Cotton-Fields The- experiments in -Cotton' cultivation in. India; and Algeria; hate succeeded beyond eipeetittien. .Iri i Miitfraii..the export of only. ios j oa has increased to nearly 400,000 im1863. In Hong Hong the export in a singi . e' month. was 70,000 lbs:' '.'•lnltalylVe - this y,ese is estimated at g..10.4000,000.4gain5t.56,000,000 sex', son. , Seventy:thousand bales 'of 256 Ibs: each were hist: yeany ;The cultiva tins Of cotton ju:lhO.island of'-, Sicily has .become vefy,general within the last two years). a source -o,:wealtik Tor =the inliabi taiitS:ot; the district-.of,Terra.NOVlL Croplast'ybar about 63000 'bales. 'The 6:73,4on:exliihiti t Ort Turin,gaye a wonder .f.lll inifeteA Frinee,kort-the lands •of ;the Chateau of -- Avignon, the' Ingest cotton his perfectly succeeded. At Cape Coast, Afilea, - the plantations: very o duct of 80,000 bales expected. t'lnitldgeri4,witttin the last year„lhe in: crialitsqn the land- planted' with cotton. has been considerable. rosin tlle Atlantis; to'South America;. we 'find thet-in:*.Piriguky t&re are about 7,000,000 of-cotton plants;arid the Ple.ntii - ;; tiohrat Corrientes are emery extensive. cottou is.exteniively cultivated, and , llierelare' four million blireks who can be.taught to. Cultivate it. Whatever pro gress may, be made in' its growigi, and how-- ever.the cultivation of it.maybil:Stimulated, .the;-)prefit the settled benefit of this ,:c o untry, for the increased supply and demand will call for an increased quantity of the better staple American, which will bA the more required to Rix with the poorer qualities of other regions; and as soon as the Southern mar kets are again opened, the former estimate of 4,000,000 bales yearly will, under the pressure of high prices that must rule for five years thereafter, be increased in that period to 6,000,000 bales. Large and Small Strawberrim Nothing is more surprising thin the per sistence of farmers and gardeners about New-York in cultivating small varieties of strawberries. If the plants of large varie ties were held at high prices, -or 'if it was difficult to cultivate .them,- or if the yield was small, there would - be some 'reason in the practice. But the truth is that enough plants of Hovey's Seedling may be bought for a dollar to cover an acre of ground the second year, . the large varieties grow more vigorously and are cultivated more easily than the small; and the yield . is from two to four times as great; ,while the principal portion of the labor, that of picking, is not one-quarter as much with' the large varie ties as with the small. In face of these facts the gardeners in'this vicinity 'continue to raise small crops of little