:* ^^* KaJHByj iMKv^S^iMt?>^ -:YJ^ CLhc B. li. iiili Hlbviiw "bl ^ V.19 "'•J k^ This book must not be taken from the Library building:. 4Jd520 OS.-'dVt' r ^ u '."1/^ % Xt^" t>' — -^-ottaci*- • • aWk. THE SOUTHERN PLANTER, \n A MONTHLY PERIODICAL DEVOTED TO I *»> * Ay <>»^4^ IfH 1 ^ J?X PAGE Salutations of different nations 156 S..AVS. Why destroy their young 2(15 Sub Soil Plowing, Effeeb? of 259 Song. Cottage 320 Silk Mill. The first 397 Seed Saving 424 Stock Breeding 43" r-652 Sub Soil Plowing 446 Slaves, Effects of high prices of 472 Straw Paper 479 Salt for Cattle 481 Straw, "Waste of and Worth 4S6 Soil, Improvement of 488 Summer Grazing 489 Sounding Shells 491 Soda, Potash, &c. 506 Sanitary Precautions 580 Stock Barns and Shelters 609 Sheep, Winter Management of 637 Sweet Potatoes, To secure 652 Sheep Husbandry in the AVest 653 Science. Beneficial influence of true 687 Scientific 688 Stock 718 Slavery and Free Labor Defined and Com- pared. 723 Scientific Agriculture, Progress of 760 Soil 765 Superphosphates, Prof. Mapes' 767 Sealing-Wax f r Fruit Cans / < o Seeds in a Bushel, Xumber of 779 Tubncco, Salt prevents "Firing," Table, A useful Trade, Foreign U. Under Drains Cniversity of "Virginia PAGE 672 705 7oe 112- Turnip Drill, The Poor Man's 341 Terra-Culture 342 Tobacco 7 1-7 8- 115.- 129-373-38 1-140-253-204-482 Trees, Advantasces of 102 Transplanting Forest Evergreens 106 Tobacco Land, Proper time for preparing 148-604 Tobacco Seed, Mode of Sowing 149 Tobacco, Guano Applied to 149 Thistles, Extirpation if from Grass land 443 Timber, Means of Preserving 479 Transplanting, Philosophy of 484 Tobacco. To Cure Yellow"' 492 Tobacco Culture 503-504-581 Teeth, Advice about 545 Vegetable and Truck Trade of Norfolk "\'egetable Physiology, Reflections on 100 Visions of Childhood Vegetable Matter, Sources of Valley, The, of the Rappahannock Value of Science to Farmers Virginia, The two great evils of 643 Virginia Husbandry, Bane of W. Wealth, The way to Water-proof Clotiiing for Negroes White Wash for Fences Why so few succeed Wunderful power of fuel Walking as an Exercise Wanted, A young man of industry Wool Trade Wishes Wash Boards Whv Sows destroy their young Why Use Cut Food Warts, Cure for Waiting White Wash Brilliant Stucco Wife, A Perfect Wiiat the Earth gives us War in Europe, AVheat Culture Woman in the Garden Windows Managing for Air Wheat Crop, Preparation for Wonders, List of Wife, The. Who found good in everything Wool, To test the quality of Wheat, On the Culture of, The Necessi- I ty of Phosphates Washington, General, The Model Farmer Wheat, Fine - Worth Remembering, 159 308 lOS 595 128 306 578 -664 659 6 56 383 101 101 157 169 172 192 198 205 200 216 256 274 318 318 433 539 580 584 586 633 688 709 741 747 776 779 Devoted to Agriculture^ Horticulture, and the HouseJioId Arts. Agriculture is the nursing mother of the Arts. [Xexoi^hox. Tillac the ;e and Pasturage are State. — ScLLT. the two breasts of J. E. WILLIAMS, Editor. AUGUST & WILLIAMS Prop' RS. Vol. XIX. RICHMOND, VA. , JANUARY, 1859. No. 1. English Agriculture. "We return our thanks to Sam'l Sands, Esq., of Baltimore, for the foUovring inter- esting account of various agricultural exper- iments, published in the Baltimore Ameri- can. We take this occasion to call the attention of all farmers to the agency established in Baltimore, by Mr. Sands, for the purchase and sale of lands — live stock, &c. For full information in regard to the objects of this agency, see the card of Mr. S. in our adver- tising columns. LETTER FROM DR. GERARD RALSTON. London, September 15, 1858. Messis. Dobbin & Fulton : — A few days ago I made an excursion, with some Ameri- can gentlemen, to the most interesting coun- try-seat of the liberal and public spirited English country gentleman, John Bennett Lawes, Esq., near Harpenden, twenty miles from London, and a fev/ miles beyond the ancient and most interesting city of St. Al- bans, (celebrated for its magnificent Abbey, nearly the largest and most beautiful of the churches of England) and entering the park of Rothamstead, we soon discovered that we were visiting an old-fashioned but most beau- tiful and well maintained country-seat of a wealthy landed proprietor. Driving through the park, which abounds with large Elms, Oak, Ash, Lime, Beech, Birch, Acacia, Plane and other beautiful trees, and seeing numerous sheep and cattle which, in my opinion, ornamented the park far more than useless deer, which I am sorry to say, too often encumber the parks of the gentry of England, we arrived at the venerable Hall, an ancient mansion of about three hundred and fifty years old, which, on examining we ' found to contain every thing that wealth and luxury could make conducive to the comfort of its residents. We found the walls of its drawing-room, &c., decorated with the landscapes and other pictures of its tasteful mistress, and its hall was ornament- ed with the spoils of the chase of its excel- lent master ; but, leaving the house and walking over the soft Turkey carpet-like lawn, admiring the flower-beds, shrubbery and beautiful grounds, we entered an avenue of old Lime trees, under whose delightfully odorous boughs, we took a refreshing lunch, and then proceeding under the guidance of our scientific and com'teous hosts, Dr. Gil- bert, (Doctor of Philosophy and Fellow of the Chemical Society) and Dr. Evan Pugh, Library THE SOUTHERN PLANTER. [January of Westchester, Pennsylvania, we examined j 7 cwt., 2 qrs. Eve grass, soft broom grass, the experimental farm which is so celebra- Bent grass were particularly developed, while ted. not only in these Islands, but through- ' worthless grasses, as Quaking gras.s, Dogstail out the Continent also, for developing agri- grass and several weeds. (Plaintain, &e.) cultural improvement. At this place Mr. were either entirely lost or much diminished Lawes owns about 1.800 acres of land, in j in quantity. An addition of 2,000 lbs. of addition to some estates in Scotland, of which j sawdust produced no eflFect on the manure l.GoO acres are employed as arable land, and ! plat. An addition of 400 lbs. of salts of for farming purposes, and 100 acres are j ammonia (the sulphate and muriate of am- purely what is called the park, and devoted j monia) per acre gives 1 ton. 15 cwt., 2 qrs. to grass and the pleasure grounds only. The j and 6 pounds. And mineral salts (sulphates remainder, or 70 acres, are used for scienti- of potash 300 lbs., of soda 200 lbs., of mag- fic agricultural experiments for ascertaining ! nesia 100 lbs., and 200 lbs. ofboneash, with what are the laws of vegetable growth and 150 lbs. of sulphuric acid) give 1 ton, 16 nutrition, in order to fully understand how j cwt. 1 qr. 22 lbs. Sawdust has no effect on to raise a maximum crop at a minimum ex- ' either of the latter, but the latter, on addi- pense. ; tion of 400 pounds of ammonia salts gives What we first examined was under a glass 3 tons, 4 hundred weight 0 qrs. 4 pounds, roof and protected fi-om the wind at the sides ! The addition of 800 lbs. of ammonia salts by a screen, a number of plants, including i gives 3 tons, 7 cwt. 0 qrs. 4 lbs. Other re- the most commonly cultivated cereal and ! suits are equally striking, but the most re- leguminous and root crops, growing in tin : markable fact is the change produced in the vessels, with 40 lbs. of soil each, and the ' quality of the grass by these manurial sub- plant issuing at top through a small hole in ' stances. The sawdust has no effect what- a elass plate, which is soldered on to the top ' ever, either upon the quantity or the quality so as to pi-event any evaporation from the - of the grass. All the substances which give soil, except that which goes off through the ' much increase, tend to keep down the weeds, leaves of the plant. The pot is weighed j The mineral salts, the sulphates, with phos- when the seed is planted, as so also is all the I phates, tend largely to develop the legumin- water added during its growth, at the termi- ' ous plants ; clover, lotus, lucerne, &c., were nation of which the crop is dried and weigh- ' here developed in a marked degree. The ed. and the amount of dried matter in it ! large increase of ammonia, whether with or compared with the amount of water evapo-! without minerals, showed the development rated from the leaves. It is found that for of large quantities of heavier and coarser everv part of dry matter freed, 250 parts of j grasses, as Dactylus glomcrata. and Bromus water pass through the leaves, or for every | mollis. These experiments, when cirried ton of wheat or grass produced upon a field, i out with great care and exactness for a series 250 tons of water must have been evapora-'of years, will supply a rich store of infor- ted irom the vegetable matter producing it. ' mation as to the value of different manurial Or for a field of grass producing 3 tons per I substances for the promotion of different acre, 750 tuns (about 500 barrels) of water kinds of grasses. Not only are the statistics must have pas.?ed off from every acre. This : with regard to crops and manures kept, but j>oints to the cause of the good effect of rain. ' small plats, are selected in each plat, and in and the damage o*^^' drought — shewing the j these each kind of grass is planted and the dependance of the tormer upon the seasons. | amount weighed, so that the exact relation We next examined the effect of different [ between the several quantities produced may manures upon grass ; 17 lots, of one-half an be recorded. acre each, have been under experimentation for the last 4 years. The result shows the natural produce of the ground (which has not been ploughed or showed for the last two hundred yeai-s, and which has only natural gra.sses upon it) is for this years, per acre, 1 ton, 2 hundred weight, 20 pounds. This is not increased l:>y 2.000 lbs. of sawdust just beside it on another plat. But 14 tons of EXPERIMENTAL WHEAT FIELD. There are 40 plats, each containing three- tenths of an acre, on which wheat has been grown continuously under different circum- stances for the last 15 years. It would be impossible here to enter into the details of these experiments. Several elaborate pa- Ipers have already appeared in the journal of ham-yard manure per acre produced 2 tons [the Royal Agricultural Society of England, 1859.] THE SOUTHERN PLANTER. in which the statistics here obtained are given, and from which, conclusions have been drawn that have elicited much discus- sion, both in England and Germany. It is found that on this soil, which is a rather heavy clay interspersed with the chalk flint;?, the continuou.s yield without manui'e is about 18 bushels per acre. The addition of am- monia salts without minerals for 1.5 years has at last so far exhausted the mineral constit- uents in the soil, that the produce by such salts now is not as great as formerly, yet it now gives 30 bushels per acre. The addi- tion of mineral salts, (sulphate of potash 800 pounds, of soda 200 lbs., of magnesia 100 lbs. and bone ash 200 lbs., with sulphu- ric acid 150 lbs.) scarcely raises the unman- urcd plat above its normal amount (20 to 24 bu.«:hels per acre being thus obtained.) But other plats showing the effect of the dif- ferent quantities of ammonia with these minerals are most marked. The addition of 200 lbs. of ammoniacal salts per acre with these mineral salts, gives for 1857 (this year 1858 results being not yet ready) thirty-five bushels per acre; four hundred pounds of ammoniacal salts with minerals -46 bushels per acre ; 600 lbs. of ammoniacal salts with minerals 50 bushels per acre, but this large quantity is liable to fall down, owing to the gi'eat development of straw. The gi'eat point claimed for these experiments is, that they show that the atmospheric sources of nitrogen (or ammonia) are not '' amply sufl&- eient for the purpose of agriculture" as has been contended by some. They also point out the great Aalue of the highly nitrogeni- sed manures, or the Peruvian guanos, &c. EXPERIMENTAL BARLEY FIELD. There are also twenty-four plats of one- sixth of an acre each. These have been going on for seven years upon the same land. They also show results corresponding to those just noticed. Unmanured plats about half a crop, (29 bushels ;) with 14 tons of barnyard manure a good crop, 51 bushels per acre ; mineral manures ; (sulphate of soda, potash and magnesia,) about half a crop (32 bush- els ;) super-phosphate of lime, a little more, (33 bushels ;) (super-] ihosphate of lime and sulphurate of soda, pota.'^h and magnesia,) yet more, (39 bushels ;) nitrate of soda (Chili saltpetre,) gives 47 bu. . T^-T • xi .1 J?! Himselt must either hold or drive. a legacy.' ' Lnligence is the mother oij luck, and God gives all things to industry, j "And again, 'The eye of the master ' Then plow deep while sluggards sleep, and will do more work than both his hands;' you shall have corn to sell and to keep.' and again, ' Want of care does us more Work while it is called tc-day, for you know damage than want of knowledge ;' and again, not how much you may be hindered to-mor- ^ ' Not to oversee workmen is to them your row. ' One day to-day is worth two to-mor- purse open.' Trusting too much to others' rows,' as Poor Richard says, and further, care is the ruin of many. For in the af- * Never leave that till to-morrow which you fairs of this world men are saved, not by can do to-day.' If you were a servant, faith, but by want of it, but a man's own would you not be ashamed that a good mas- care is profitable ; for ' If you would have t«r should catch you idle ? Are you, then, a faithful servant, and one that you like, your own master ? Be ashamed to catch serve yourself A little neglect may breed yourself idle when there is so much to be great mischief; ' for want of a nail the shoe done for yourself, your fiimily and your was lost; for want of a shoe the horse was country. Handle your tools without mit- lost ; for want of a horse the rider was lost, tens; remember that 'The cat in gloves being overtaken and slain by the enemy.' catches no mice,' as Poor Richard says. It All for want of a little care about a horse is true there is much to be done, and per- shoe nail. haps you are weak-handed, but stick to it, "III. So much for industry, my friends, steadily, and you will see great efi"ects, for and attention to one's own business; but ' ConsUmt dropping wears away stones,' and to these we must add frugality, if we ' By diligence and patience the mouse ate would make our industry more certainly THE SOFTHERN PLANTER. [Jaxuart 5uccessfiil. A man may. if he knows not how to save as he gets, keep his nose all his lite to the grindstone, and die not worth a gnoiat at last. • A fiit kitchen makes a lean will ;' and 'Many estates are spent in getting. Since women for lea jibrsook spinning anJ knit- ting. And men for punch forsook hewing and split- ting.' ** If yon wonld be wealthy, think of sav- ing as well as of getting. The Indies have not made 8pain rich, becan;^ her outgoes are greater than her incomes. " Away, then, with your expensiTe fol- lies, and yon wiU not then have as much cause to complain of hard times, heavy taxes, and chargeable families. And far- ther, " What maintains one vic-e would bring up two children.' Ton may think, perhaps, that a little tea or a little punch, now and then, c-an be no great matter, but remember, ' many a little makes a mickle.' Beware of little expenses ; ' A small leak will ank a great ship,' as Poor Richard says ; and again, ' Who dainties love, shall b^- gais prove,' and moreover, * Fools make feasts and wise men eat them.' '• Here you are, all together at this sale of goods and knicknacks. You call them good-f ; but^ if fineries you do not take c-are they will prove ert7# to some of you. You expect they will be sold cheap, and perhaps Aey may for less than the cost, but, if you have no oeca;3on for them, they must be dear to you. Remember what Poor Rich- ard says, * Birr what thou hast no need of, and ere long thou shalt sell thy necessaries.' And again, * At a great penny worth, pause a whUe.' He means that perhaps the cheapne^ is apparent only, and not real ; or the bargain, by straightening thee in thy business, may do thee more harm than good. For in another place he saj&, • !Many have been mined by buying good penny's worths. Again, " It is foolish to lay out money in a purchase of repentance,' and yet this folly is practised every day at auction, for want of minding the almanac. Many a one, for the sake of finery on the back, have gone with a hungry belly and half starved their families, ' Silks and satins, scarlets and velvets, put the kitchen fires out,' as Poor Richard says. '' These are not the necessaries of life ; they can scarcely be called the c-onvenienc-es, and yet only because they look pretty, how many j want to have them ? By these and other ex- j travagances, the genteel are reduced to pov- erty, and forced to borrow from those whom they formerly despised, but who, through industry and ftngality. have maintained their j standing, in which case it appears plainly jthat -A ploughman on his legs is higher than a gentleman on his knees.' as Poor Richard says. Perhaps they have had a small estate left them, which they knew not the getting of ; they think ' It is day and it will never be night,' that a little to be spent out of so much is not worth minding ; but "Always taking out of the meal tub and never putting in, soon comes to the bottom,' as Poor Richard says ; and then, ' When the well is dry, they know the worth of water.' But this they might have known before if they had taken his advice. * If you would know the value of money, go and try to borrow some, for he that goes a borrowing goes a sorrowing.' as Poor Rich- ard says ; and indeed so does he that lends to such people, when he goes to get it again. Poor Dick further advises and says, •Fond pride of dress is sure a very curse. Ere fancy you consult, consult yonr purse.'' And again, ' Pride is as loud a beggar as want, and a great deal more saucy.' When you have bought one fine thing, you must buy ten more, that your appearances may be all of a price ; but Poor Dick says, ' It is easier to suppress the first desire than to satisfy all that follow it. And it is as truly foUy for the poor to ape the rich, as for the firog to swell in order to equal the ox.' ' Vessels lai^e may venture more. But little boats should keep near shore.' " It is, however, a folly soon punished, for as Poor Richard says, * Pride that dines on vanity, sups on contempt. Pride break- &sted with plenty, dined with poverty and supped with infamy.' And after ail. of what use is this pride of appearance, for I which so much is risked, so much is suffered ? • It cannot promote health, nor ease pain ; it makes no increase of merit in the person j iit creates envy ; it hastens misfortunes. *" But what madness must it be to run in debt for these superfluities ? We are offered by the terms of this sale, six months' credit, \ and that, perhaps, has induced some of us to attend it, because we cannot spare the ready money, and hope now to be fine with- out it. But ah ! think what you do when you run in debt ; you give to another power 1859.] THE SOUTHERN PLANTER. 9 over your liberty. If you cannot pay at the time, you will be ashamed to see your credi- tor, and will be in fear when you speak to him ; you will make poor, pitiful, sneaking excuses, and, by degrees, come to lose your veracity, and sink into base, downright lying; for ' The second vice is lying, the first is running in debt,' as Poor Richard says, and again, to the same purpose, ' Lying rides on debt's back,' whereas a free born ought not to be ashamed, or afraid to see or speak to any man living. But poverty often deprives a man of all spirit and virtue. * It is hard for an empty bag to stand upright.' What would you think of that prince or that gov- ernment who should issue an edict forbid- ding you to dress like a gentleman or gen- tlewoman, on pain of imprisonment or servi- tude ? Would you not say that you were free, have a right to dress as you please, and that such an edict would be a breach of privileges, and such a government tjTanni- cal '( And yet 3'ou are about to put yourself inider such tyranny when you run in debt for such dress ! Your creditor has authority at his pleasure to deprive you of your lib- erty, by confining you in jail till you shall be able to pay him. When you have got your bargain, yoii may, perhaps, think little of payment, but as Poor Richard says, ' Cred- itors have better memories than debtors ; creditors are a superstitious set, great ob- servers of set days and times.' The day comes round before you are aware, and the demand is made before you are prepared to satisfy it ; or, if you bear your debt in mind, the time, which at first seemed so long, will, as it lessens, appear extremely short. Time Avill seem to have added wings to his heels as well as his shoulders. ' Those have a short Lent who owe money to be paid at Easter.' At present you may think your- selves in thriving circumstances, and that you can bear a little extravagance without injury, but 'For age and want save while you may — No morning sun lasts a wliole day.' " Gain may be temporary and uncertain, but even while you live, expense is constant and certain. ' It is easier to build two chimneys than to keep one in fuel,' as Poor Richard says, so, ' Rather go to bed supper- less than rise in debt.' " IV. This doctrine, my friends, is rea.son and wisdom, but, after all, do not depend too much upon your industry, and fnigality, and prudence, though excellent thing-s, for they will all be blasted without the blessing of heaven, and therefore, ask that blessing humbly, and be not uncharitable to those that at present seem to want it, but comfort and help them. Remember, Job sufiered, and was afterwards prosperous. '* And now to conclude, — ' Experience keeps a dear school but fools will learn in no other,' as Poor Richard says, and scarce in that, for it is true, ' We may give advice, but we cannot give conduct.' However, remember this, ' They that will not be coun- selled cannot be helped ;' and further, that ' If you will not hear Reason, she will rap your knuckles,' as Poor Richard says. " Thus the old man ended his harangue. The people heard it and approved the doc- trine, and immediately practised the con- trary, just as if it had been « common ser- mon ; for the auction opened, and they be- gan to buy extravagantly. I found the good man had thoroughly studied my alma- nacs, and digested all I had dropped on these topics during the course of twenty -five years. The frequent mention he made of me must have tired any one else, but my vanity was wonderfully delighted with it, though I was conscious that not a tenth part of the wisdom was my own which he as- cribed to me, but rather the gleanings that I had made of the sense of all ages and na- tions. However, I resolved to be the better for the echo of it, and, though I had at first determined to buy stufi" for a new coat, I went away resolved to wear my old one a little longer. Reader, if thou wilt do the same, thy profit will be as good as mine. " I am, as ever thine to serve thee, " Richard Sanders." For the Planter, State Fair. The State Fair at Petersburg was gene- rally considered a successful and creditable afiliir. The intercourse of persons, strangers to each other personally, meeting together and discussing questions relating to agricul- ture, in which all are interested and en- gaged, has a happy tendency, and a good eiFcct. We become acquainted with each other, with the diverse modes of doing busi- ness in different parts of our State, and thus often obtain new ideas in our own business, or may make new suggestions to others. One of the most valuable features of these annual gatherings, is the discussion carried 10 THE SOUTHERN PLANTER. [January on by the society at night, in which all are [ invited to give their experience in any thing relating to agriculture, whether it he an ini- ; proved mode of operation in farming, new implements, or any thing bearing upon general cultivation. There is one great advantage, it appears to me, that might arise from these discussions that now does | not obtain, and that is a good reporter to [ take them down, and then publish them with the society's transactions. In this way their benefit would be generally circulated, ' and be of advantage to others besides those i present at these meetings. Many who desire ' it cannot attend them. The ''American Pomological Society" that lately met in Xew York City, have been in the practice of having their discus- sions on fruit, cene marl was com- their career of improvement, must beware . men ced on a farm in King William county, of tobacco, lest while they are making that. ! not far from Newcastle Ferry, (but not the to obtain cash in hand, their capital is de- 1 Newcastle farm.) and the friends of this predating. For the 8100 per acre to be ; gentleman feared that a love of good society, made on twenty acres of tobacco, they are. and of eocene marl, irott/d break him. This losing -$40 per acre on the hundred acres of ■ was as far back as 1833. What induced land thev might marl whilst making the i the three gentlemen above named to use twentv acres of tobacco. Land worth twenty these marles I cannot say, but have a vague dollars per acre down here, having three | impression that they had been used in New hundred bushels of eocene marl per acre ' Jersey under the direction of Professor applied to it, is immediately worth forty ! Henry D. Eodgers, who, from geologic^ dollars per acre. The more heavily you 'information, and from the use of marls in marl within a reasonable limit, and the more ' England, advised their use in New Jersey, deeply vou drain, the more heavily you can jand wherever ehe they were known to exist, crop. We present the singtilar phenomenon I cannot tell the exact year the " Farmer's of owning land which we can crop ''a^f^ Register' was begun, but think the gentle- infinitum,'' and improve "ad tnpnifum," at j men above mentioned had commenced their the same time, and under the same process, i experiments prior to its-publication. That Tobacco, however, is a crop demanding so ; Journal torrABY Then she lost in both fle^h and milk, and at j tho pnd of ninp ■wpftks. she lost 2S imnndst: imilk which the cow was in the habit of the end of nine weeks, she lost 2S pounds t giving, or in other words the rations of of flesh, and gave but 6i quarts of milk. food must contain casein, olein and phos- Xo. 3. Gave 15 J quarts of milk per day phates, not only sufficient to supply the and weighed 1092 pounds. She was fed, } natural waste of the animal, by keeping up with a steamed mixture of cut hay and j its muscles, its bones and its respiration, but straw, oat chaff, turnips, bran, meal and . also to enable it to give milk to the utmost rape cake, which actually cost less than the i powers of its secreting organs, fully satura- feed of Xo. 2, by about 20 cents for the nine weeks. At the end of the trial she had gained in flesh 56 pounds, and her milk averaged 12* quarts per day. ted with the particles of butter. He found that a cow could not possibly consume, were she to keep her jaws moving for the whole twenty-four hours, a quantity To keep a cow fully up to her milk, rating j ^f ^^^Yier bay or turnips sufficient to produce It at 10 quarts per day, it has been estima- L^yj. ^j. ^^^^j. j^ ^^^^ amount as would ted, that It would need over and above thej^g^jj^^ ^^^ keepine of cows profitable, and amount of hay required for her necessary . ^j^^^ ^^ ^^^ rely" upon other articles of maintenance. lO lbs. of hay to supply thejf^^ ^ ^^^ comp(^ition of which there were casern, and 20 lbs. to yield the oleaginous I ^^^ reouisite elements, elements for the butter, and 4i lbs. for the ,^^ . ,., o Ttr ^ Vi. 1 X- ^x, 1- 1 • "i J *v After various trials oi diiierent substances supply 01 the phosphoric acid and other i j - ^ -x /» j ^i. ^ x? ^x. ■^^ " 1 X- 11 .1 V 1, * • and mixtures, it was found that one oi the minerals. Xo cow could eat hay enoush to; ^ . , j •j.x. j ^ , ^, ^ 1 *t 'j? •> ' most economical compounds, with regard to supply the amount, and therefore, ii we i ,^ , , i> ^i ^ • 7 lit, v £.11 c. vi ^v ^iresxuts, and value oi the matenals. was would have them fully prontable, they must „ , ^ , - i i,' o , n J ^1 * • 1 t1 ^ V formed from rape cake, o poimds, bnin 2 be ted on other matenals. it must be , « -^ • i -^t. ' rn -, • -11 4.-U ^ X. -L ^ ■ X pounds, tor each cow, mixed with a sum- borne in mmd also, that where butter is the ^. ^ ^.^ £■ ^ %.- ._ i .. v ^ J -^ 1 ^-L 1^ 1 cient quantity of cut bean straw, and oat manufactured article, the substances used , a- i ' i i. • i -^x, ^\. , , 1 .f -11 chaff, to supply each animal with three may very much promote a supply of milk i o ^ ' i -. u ^ t\,- . f J. •' 1 ^ _^ x" if \J meals of as much as it would eat. Ihis yielding a laree proportion of butter. .^ , , j-..i,-. pj •'o '^.'-j^*^ T?Ti. .1 mixture was steamed, and with it was ted fco convinced was an J!.ngush gentleman, ,., . jot. i .->- j J TT --11 e ^i,- " ^j c ^1 ' likewise, a pound oi bean meal. 2o pounds named Horsiall. of tins lact, and of the /. , ■ ^ i r j a. _^ /. , . !_• -1 1- • 'of turnips or mansle wurzels and after importance oi keeping up his miich cows in , Si j "'J^ i. n 1 ^1. 4. V • 1.. ^1 ^ ieach meal 4 pounds of hav. flesh, so ttiat he might not Ljse. after, ^ ' j i • calving, the flesh which they had made pre- 1 The bean straw mentioned above, it vious to that time, that he instituted a! may be weU to note, is not the stalks of number of experiments, and fJjund that ' o'lr field beans, but of the variety known as when hLs milch cows were kept up in flesh. ': t^e Windsor bean. When dry, this straw is their cream was worth nearlj* twice as much!al>0'at as palatable as buckwheat straw, but as that yielded by ordinary milk for the^'^^^e^ steamed "it becomes s-oft and pulpy, purposes'of making butter. ^^^^ an agreeable odor, and imparts flavor For instance, eood milk of more than or- and rehsh to the mess." It is not by any dinarv quaUtv will seldom yield over one' °ieans equal to our com stalks as a substance ounce of but"ter to a quart' of milk, and [for feed, and we beUeve were com stalks when the cream is taken, the richest known treated in the same way, they would prove yield is at the rate of 14 ounces of butter! more valuable. The rape cake used, is the to a quart of cream, but more generally it 'remains of the seed of the cole wort or rape seldom exceeds 9 or 10 ounces to the quart. P^^nt after it is pressed for its oil. The cole Mr. HorsMl found that by his mode of, or rape plant is a vegetable of the tumip feeding, his cream would yield from a quart , species, the seed of which is very rich in from 22 to 25 ounces of butter, and from! oils- The oil made from this seed is pnnci- the milk he got at the rate of 25 ounces of V^J "*ed for burning, and contains a large butter to everv 40 pounds. i proportion of this fatty matter, as much as To obtain ' such results, however, Mr. 10 per cent., besides nearly 40 per cent Horsfall, found that he must feed his cows, more of starch, sugar and gum. aU of which on food that besides sustaining the animal, T^eld oO parts of fat to every 90. would also contain a surplus of the ele- ! Heifers fed in this way, not giving milk, ments of curd, of butter, and of bone, suffi- and dry cows intended for the butcher, in- cient for the formation of the quantity of creased fourteen pounds each per week, and 1858.] THE SOUTHERN PLANTER. 17 sometimes even more, or at the rate of two pounds per day. If we compare tliis kind of feeding -with tlie treatment our milk cattle usually get during the winter, we will easily perceive the profit of one system and the want of profit in the other. A milch cow that receives 20 pounds of the poorest quality of hay, and 8 quarts of bran per day, is considered as ver}- well taken care of, not one half the cows in this State receive as much. Such hay is worth 80 per ton, and the bran is now sold at 88 per ton ; it is therefore easy to calculate the cost of keeping a cow as being worth about eight cents per day, for the hay feeding is worth six cents and the bran estimated as averaging half a pound to the quart is worth nearly two cents. In return, the cow yields probably from four to six quarts of milk per day. Take the largest amount, and allowing each quart of milk to 3'ield an ounce of butter, and we have as the daily return of the cow, 6 ozs. of butter, which at eighteen cents per pound, is worth Of cts., exactly. The manure, and the skim milk, we allow as paying for the work of feeding, and the labor of manufocturing the butter. There would be a loss therefore on each cow of I4 cent per day, which in a dairy of six cows, kept at this rate, and averaging this amount of produce, for a whole winter, of IGU days, would amount to twelve dollars. We think this a moderate computation, and that the loss more generally reaches twice that amount, especially when it is consider- ed that there is hardly a dairy in the State in which there are six cows that will average four (juarts apiece per day for the whole of the winter, even on a better supply of food than that above noted. ' In illustration of an extraordinary in- stance of feeding, and its profits, we give the following from a letter we received from Mr. Becket Chapman, of South Boston, Ionia County : " In the winter of 1850, I fed one coav one and a half bushels of Indian meal and one and a lialf bushels of bran per week, be- sides what hay she would cat. She made eight pounds of butter per week. Corn was worth fifty cents per bushel, and bran 50 cents per 100 lbs. Butter sold at 25 cents. " In the winter of 1857, 1 fed a cow six quarts of Indian meal scalded per day, with good hay ad lihitum, good stable and plenty of litter. She made 10 lbs of butter per week. Corn was worth 75 cents per bush- el, and butter 25 cents per pound. "Will the editor please let us know if corn can be used to more advantage ?" We regret that Mr. Chapman has not given us some idea of the weight and value of hqy he fed to his cows, but calling it 16 pounds per day, and worth 88 per ton, and we have the result per week as follows : FIRST YEAR. Hay, 112 lbs. at $8 per ton,. . . -. $0.4-5 Corn Meal at 00 cts. per bushel for corn,. . O/.tQ Bran at 00 cts. jier 100 lbs., 0.-2.5 $1.60 Butter made 8 lbs. at 25 cts., 2.00 Leaving as a profit per week, ,40 SECOND YEAR. Hay, 20 lbs. per day at $S per ton, .$0.56 Indian Meal, 42 quarts, corn at 75 cts.,. . . . 1.13 §1.69 Pioduce, 10 lbs. of butter per week at 25 cts., 2,50 Profit per week, §0.81 I It will be noted that after allowing four pounds of hay per day to make up for the . want of the bran, the scalding of the meal i seems to give a profit of 81 cents plus the increased price of the corn and the value of ' the six quarts saved, making altogether a , diifcrence of 88 cents in favor of the cooked food, and valuing the feed at the same rates as those of the year before, a profit per week of 81.18 from a single cow. Though we do not think this the most profitable mode of feeding milk cows, ; yet, it is a fair illustration of the fact that ' cows will pay better to be kept right, than to have them uncared for and only half fed up to their work. I We call the attention of the butter- makers, and the keepers of milk stock to the facts set down here as worth their con- sideration. If any of them do better, and wc have undersfcited or underrated, any part of the subject, we are open for correction. Let the farmers give us flicts, facts that come from the weighing beam, — we shall be pleased to receive them, the earlier the bet- ter as we shall have more to say on this subject. 18 THE SOUTHERN PLANTER. [January Virginia State Agricultural Society. SEVESTH AXMAL JIKETINC. Agreeably to tlie adjourumeiit of the last Faniiers" Assembly, a meeting of members elect for the present year assembled at the Market Street Baptist Church, in the city of Petersburg, on Monday Afternoon, the 1st of November, 1858. It being manifest that no quorum was pre- sent, the meeting adjourned until Tuesday, the 2nd instant, at half-past 4 o'clock, P. M. Tuesday, Nov. 2nd, 1858. At half past four o'clock the meeting as- sembled at the same place. The Secretary of the Virginia State Agricultural Society called the meeting to order, and proceeded to call the roll to ascertain -nhether or not a quorum was in attendance. Forty-four mem- bers were found to be present, sixty-five being necessary to constitute a quorum, the meeting aoain adjourned to half-past seven o'clock, P^ 31. At half-past seven o'clock the Secretary again called the meeting to order, and pro- ceeded as heretofore to ascertain the number in attendance, when the calling of the roll was arrested by a motion made, and put to the vote of the meeting by Mr. Cox, ol Chesterfield, by which vote Col. Thomas M. Bondurant was elected Chairman of the meeting pro tempore. The Secretary of the Society was then requested to act as Clerk. The calling of the roll was resumed, and it appearing that but forty-five members were present, the meeting adjourned until Wed- nesday morning, i) o'clock. "Wednesday, Nov. 3rd, 1858. The meeting assembled agreeably to ad- journment. Col. Bondurant in the Chair. Mr. Wickham, of Hanover, offered the following resolution : Resolved, That the Farmers' Assembly is now in Session. Pending the discussion on this resolution, on the motion of Mr. Booth, of Nottoway, the meeting adjourned until half-past seven o'clock this evening. Athalf-pastseven o'clock the meetingagain assembled. Col. Bondurant in the Chair. The resolution of Mr. Wickham, of Han- over, being the first business in order, was taken up, when, on motion of Mr. Gar- nett, of Westmoreland, it was laid upon the table. Mr. Garnett then moved the adop- tion of the following resolution, which was carried in the aflirmative : Resolved, That the Secretary do now pro- ceed to call the roll, to ascertain whether there be a quorum present, of the Farmers' Assembly. The roll was accordingly called, and there being found present but forty-five members, it was, on motion, Resolved, That this meeting do now ad- journ sine die. After the final adjournment of the meet- ing, the Secretary distributed among the members elect the following annual report of the Executive Committee to the Farmers' Assembly, with the accompanying docu- ments, which, through the courtesy and re- spect due to the Assembly, had been with- held, so long as there remained a hope of effecting an organization . Annual Report of the President and Executive Com.^iittee. Members of the Farniers Assembly: At your last session, in 1857, and by your several special orders sundry duties were entrusted to the Executive Committee, and which were thus required to be finally de- cided upon and completed by that Commit- tee. What has been done, or failed to be effected in these cases will be first presented to your notice. The President and Executive Committee, in their last Annual Report, had referred to the heavy expenditures attending the So- ciety's exhibitions as a growing evil, and to the efforts then made to restrain them. The partial success of those efforts may be seen on reference to the accompanying document, (A.) _ . The policy of holding our Fairs at Rich- mond, upon an advance by the City, of an inadequate sum of money, had drawn so heavily upon the contingent or surplus fund of the Society, that if we had held the present Fair there, that surplus fund amount- ing originally to about §5,000, which was reduced in 1857 to $3,000, would have been entirely exhausted, and, in addition, a debt incurred which could only have been paid out of the fixed capital of the Society. The first clause of the 11th section of the Constitution provides that, "All capital of the Society, now or hereafter invested, shall be held a fund sacred to the cause of Agri- 1859.] THE SOUTHERN PLANTER. 19 cultural improvement, of -which the income der the lead of the Union Society, of Vir- only shall be subject to appropriation." ginia and N^ortii Carolina, proposed terms This made it imperative upon the Execu- whose generosity entitles them to the thanks tive Committee to procure from the City, or of the Virginia State Agricultural Society. citizens, of Richmond, an adequate guaran- These terms, as is apparent, were accepted; tee that the expenditures for holding the and the Society is accordingly convened in present Fair should not exceed the income Petersburg. subject to appropriation, and that the ac-' If this cli|inge of locality is to be the commodations therefor should be commodi- commencement of a new system as to the ous and in proper repair. And as the Con- terms on which the Fairs of the Society ai-e stitution requires that " The Society shall to be held, it has at least one advantage in hold an Annual Exhibition, Cattle Show and the precedent it affords, by which it shall be Fair, at such time and place as the Farmers a fixed condition that tJie city m- town hav- Assembly shall designate, or in default there- ing the benefit of the Fair will contribute of as may be designated by the Executive an amount sufficient to enable the Society to Committee," the President and Executive hold it without violating the provisions of Committee brought their difficulties to the the Constitution. attention of the Farmers Assembly, in the Having thus concisely stated the grounds following passage in their last Annual Re- of their action, which are hei-eby respect- port: "The ground allowed to the Society fully submitted to the Farmers Assembly, for the Annual Fair and Exhibition, is in- the Executive Committee will cheerfully rc- sufficient in space and accommodations. The ceive their instructions as to any further ac- Executive Committee, for the last two years tion upon the subject. have encoiuitered much difficulty to make \ Acting under either the special or virtual up for the actual deficiencies — and in vain ; instructions of the Farmers Assembly, and efforts to obtain a suitable and permanent lo- in continuation of the still earlier adopted cation. On this account also, the expenses of and continued policy of the State Agricul- the Society have been much increased. It tural Society, the Executive Committee en- is absolutely neccs.sary that these disad- deavored to obtain from the General Asscm- vantages shall be removed, by some proper bly of the Commonwealth, the enactment of and permanent arrangement, in the ensuing several measures required for the improve- year, even if a necessary condition for relief ment and profit of agriculture, and for the shall be a removal of the Fair to some other removal of existing burdens and grievan- location, either neighboring or remote." As ces. Among these, the principal objects the Constitution devolved on the Farmers sought, were, pecuniary aid to the State So- Assembly the duty of designating a place ciety — relief from the worst, and only the for the Annual Fair, and in default thereof useless as well as oppressive features of the made it the business of the Executive Com- general fence law (and so far only in the mittee to supply their omission, it was ear- main respectvS, as to be sought for and ac- nestly hoped that this responsibilit}'- would cepted by voluntary agreement in particular have been taken by the Farmers Assembly, neighbourhoods,) — and relief from the in- The subject was referred to a special com- spections of manures, which are taxes ©e-; mittee of that body, who asked to be dis- agriculture and of no benefit whatever exr charged from its further consideration, and cept to supply fees to the inspectors. Nei-r that it should be referred back to the Execu- ther of these measures of benefit or relief to ■ tive Committee. This course was adopted agriculture has ever been fully considered'or by the Farmers Assembly, and left the Ex- 'finally determined upon by the Legislature. . ecutive Committee no alternative'but to raise ' The subject of the offer to the Society by the necessary funds in Richmond, or to ap- ; Col. Philip St. George Cocke, of the Belona peal to the liberality of some other city. Arsenal property at the price with interest- The accompanying document (B) will show at which he had bought it, on the c? re- quired " to cause to be made a marble bust and a portrait of Philip St. George Cocke, Es(p, to be bestowed as this body shall here- after determine."' The Executive Commit- tee ap])ointed "William Boulwarc, Wm. H. Macfarland and R. II. Dulany, E.*qrs., a committee to consult with Col. Cocke, and make necessary arrangements for having his bust and portrait made, in accordance with those instructions. The portrait has been completed by a distinguished artist, and is now in the possession of the Secret^iry of the Societ}-, subject to the order of your body; and the causes which delayed the ac- tion of the Committee in the ftirthor execu- tion of those instructions are set forth in their report, marked (D.) The Committee take great pleasure in ac- knowledging the receipt, through the Hon. Wm. Ballard Preston, of Montgomer}-, of sixty-one valuable works on French Agri- culture, which have been kindly tendered to the Societ}- by M. 3Ionny de Mornay, Di- rector of the Department of Agricultui-e in France; and the}' have instructed their President to acknowledge, in suitable terms, their high appreciation of the valuable. gift, and of the liberal spirit which prompted the gift. (Sec document E.) By the Constitution of the Society, it is made the duty of the Executive Committee to arrange all the counties, cities and towns of Virginia, in which there arc known resi- dent 3Iembers of the Society into Electoral Districts, for the Election of Members of the Farmers' Assembly. By the recent ar- rangement there are sixt^-nine Electoral Districts and one hundred and twenty-eight 3Iembers of the Farmers' Assembly. The Treasurer's report and accounts (marked F) will be herewith submitted; also the entire journal of proceeding's of the Executive Committee fur the past yeox and for the preceding years. Bv order of the Executive Committee. EDMUND PUFFIN, President of the Virijinia State Agrimltural Society. (-•^) Expenses and I^ercip.'s of .Hiinmil Fairz since 1S53. Expenses — 1S53. Incif'ertal expenses, includi-ig ad- vertitirrr. Forage. &c... .$2,145 07 Receipts. Donation Madame Soniag. .$ 100 00 Gate Fees 1 . '.'47 17 $■2,047 17 The police uepartment paid by the city, a large par! of llie service being i;"ratuitous. THE SOUTHERX PLANTER. [January Expenses — 1 S54. Incidental expenses $1 .311 32 Printing and advertising 215 62 Forage department 1 .297 97 Police department 2 . 591 20 $5,416 11 Receipts. Gate Fees $3.2S9 50 Rents 200 00 Batlges 707 30 City of Rich'd for police. . 1 .OiX) 00 $5,196 80 Expenses — 1 S55. Office expenses § 338 7S Incidental 1.606 59 Of" expense of plate, &c. . . 535 00 1.07159 Printing and advertising 263 50 Ticket office 130 75 Police department 2 . 807 24 Forage department 1 .241 33 Repairs to Fair Grounds 593 54 .$6,446 73 Receipts. Gate Fees $2,505 76 Badges 551 32 Rent 400 00 §3.457 OS Expenses — 1 856. Office expenses •$ Printing and advertising, of which 447 for Farmers' Assembly.. . Incidental expenses Ticket office Police department 2 Forage department Repairs to Fair Grounds Rent of horse lot Receipts. Gate Fees $2.^70 31 Badges 365 44 Rents 250 00 J. P. Ballard's donation on account of horse lot 106 67 396 7S 694 74 1 .065 58 116 12 2 .658 75 958 97 949 11 500 00 $7,340 05 3.152 42 Expenses — 1857. Office expenses $ 96 67 Incidental expenses 654 76 Ticket office 86 00 Police department 1.849 50 Forage department 968 95 Repairs to Fair Grounds 630 90 Rent of horse lot 1 .000 00 $5,286 78 Receipts. Rents $ 445 00 Gate Fees 2 . S43 62 Cit}' of Richmond for horse lot 1.000 00 $4,288 62 The above statement shows the incidental receipts from the holding of the Fairs, and the incidental expenses attending them, except the premiums. (B) Refers to proceedings of the Executive Committee on the 27th Xovember, 1857 — the 27th of January following, and on the 27th of April, 1858. all which were con- tained in a card published by the Secretary in the October number of the Southern Planter, page 593. (C) At a meeting of the Executive Committee of the Virginia State Agricultural Society on the 26th of November, 1^858, the follow- ing report was submitted by Mr. Knight and unanimously adopted : The committee appointed to visit the Belona Arsenal property '' to ascertain its condition, cost, the expense of establishing an Agricultural School thereat, and the ex- pediency of accepting the property with that view" report : That they have visited the place, and made a full examination of the buildings, and found them to be in a ver}- dilapidated condition, and in view of their condition and their arrangement, con- sider them unfit for the purposes of a school. They have not deemed it necessary to make an accurate estimate of the cost of repairs of the buildings, and of such alterations as would be needful to adapt them to the ac- commodation of a school, because it is very apparent that it would require an amount far beyond the present means of the Socie- ty. The committee, therefore, respectfully report against the expediency of accepting the property on the terms on which it has been tendered to the Societv. (r>) The committee appointed to have a por- trait, and also a bust, prepared of the late President of the Society, Col. Cocke, re- port : That they contracted with Mauriuce Guillaume, a distinguished artist, for the 1859.] THE SOUTHERN PLANTER. portrait, and tliat it ha.s been executed, and is now in the possession of the Secretary of the Society, at the Society's rooms, in the city of Richmond. They report further, that nothing has been done in reference to the bust, because it is believed it cannot be well executed in this country. * * * WM. BOULWARE. October 29, 1858. (E) Smithfield, 26th Oct., 1858. To the President of the Agricultural Society of Ya. : Sir : — During a visit last year to Paris, I had the gratification of forming an ac- quaintance with the Honorable de Monny de ^lornay, Director of the department of Agriculture for France. Ardently devoted to agriculture as an ele- vated science and ennobling art, its chief direction in that great empire is entrusted to his care. His administration is charac- terized by wise and salutary measures for its improvement within his own country, as well as a comprehensive and liberal spirit, that anxiously seeks to difi'use the benefits and blessings that science, knowledge and skill are constantly contributing toward its promotion. In this spirit, and as a testimonial of the kind consideration and regard in which he holds our venerable Commonwealth, he re- quests me to present for him to the Agri- cultural Society of Virginia, a collection of works on agriculture, from the department over which he presides. In his name I now present them to the Society, and in his behalf pray you will ac- cept them. The collection consists of six- ty-one volumes and pamphlets, accompanied by memoirs, beautiful and elegant engrav- ings, illustrative of the various subjects treated of in the volumes, together forming a good collection of the best works on agri- culture and horticulture recently published in France. A catalogue is also furnished prepared by Mr. Alexander Vattemere, always active and distinguished in whatever contributes to the intellectual union or harmony of na- tions. With high consideration and respect, I am your ob'nt ser't, WM. BALLARD PRESTON. (F) The Treasurer's Account. Virginia State Agricultural Society, In accoiini wiili Ch. B. Williams, Receipts u-ithin the year. Donation of J. P. Ballard for rent (in part) of horse lot for 185fi, Donation from City of Richmond ditto for 1857, .... Withdrawn from City Savings Bank, Billscollected for forage department, Interest account, .... Permanent Fund Col. Townes 4th installment of his donation, . Permanent Fund for one life mem- bership, ..... Contingent Fund, annual member- ships, ...... Contingent Fund, paid by W. C. Rives, Esq., firemium olfereil by him, ...... Contingent Fund, received for auc- tion fees, ..... Contingent Fund, rent of booths. Contingent Fund, gate money and premium, ..... Contingent Funil. sale of transactions, Balance on hand per last settlement. $14,748 80 Disbursements icithin the year. On account of premiums of 1854, Treasurer. 166 67 1.000 00 1.400 00 28 51 2.836 50 100 00 20 GO 3.913 26 15 00 3 50 445 00 2.843 62 4 00 1-072 74 Premiums of 1856, Premiums of 1857, Expenses of 1856-7, . Rent of horse lot 1856,. Rent of horse lot 1857, . Salary of Secretary, Office expenses, . Printing and advertis- ing, . . . . Incidental expenses, . Ticket office, Police Department, 15 00 37 00 3.896 50 94 216 51 976 49 1.500 00 408 92 Forage Department, 997 46 Repairs of Fair Grounds , 632 90 Returned to Members twice p'd §3, coun- terfeit §5, 8 00 Discount on uncur'tfds. 4 48 Deposit'd with City Sav- ings Bank, Balance, 1.000 00 13.526 88 .$1,221 92 List of balances on 30th September 1858. Contingent Fund, . 48.089 02 Permanent Fund. . 46.364 00 Rent of horse lot 1857 (un- claimed,) 23 51 Interest account, 9.907 20 Cash 1.221 92 Virginia State stock, . 500 00 Richmond City stock, . ^^m't carried forward, •$ 44.750 OU 46.471 92 $104,383 73 24 THE SOUTHERN PLAXTER. [Januar t .im'i broiisht foricurd, Premiums of 1S53, Premiums of 1S54, Premiums cf lo53. Premiums of lo5fi. Premiums of 1S57. Expenses cf 1S53— 4, . Expenses of 1G54-5, . Expenses of 1855—0. . Expenses of 183t>-7, Expenses of 1857— S, . Reit of liorse lot 1856, City Savings Bank,' $46,471 9-2 $104,383 . 3.353 00 . 3.843 50 . 3.731 00 . 3.805 00 . 3.G96 50 . 3.SG4 -24 . 7.456 77 . 8.95S 44 . 8.S77 34 . 7.343 43 162 57 ■2.600 00 73 The President introduced Professor Hol- combe, of the I'niversitv of Virginia, who had been invited bv the Executive Commit- tee to address the meeting on an interesting branch of the general subject of slavery : — " The right of the State to institute Slavery^ considered as a question of Katttral Laic, with special reference to African Slavery as it exists in the United States." Professor Holcombc then delivered the followiucr discoui-se : GEyERAL MEETING OF THE SOCEETT. 104.3S3 73 .$1 >4.3£3 73 Mr. President, ami Gentlemen of the Agricidturnl Society : It seenis to me eminently proper, to con- After the final adjournment of the meet-'nect with these imposing exhibitions of the ing of the members elect of the Farmers trophies of your agricultural skill, a dis- Assembly on Wednesday the 3d of Xovem- ' cussion of the whole beai-ings and rela- ber. the members of the State Agrictdtural lions, jural, moral, social, and economical, Society organized themselves into a general of that peculiar industrial system to which meeting for the discussion of subjects relat- we are so largelv indebted for the results ing to the state and prospects of the Socie- ty. John R. Edmunds, Estj., was called to the chair. On motion of :Mr. VT. C. Knight, of Xot- towav. that have awakened our pride and gratifica- tion. Xo class in the eommuuity has so many and such large interests gathered up in the safety and permanence of that sys- tem as the Farmers of the State. The maiu- Besolved. That a Committee be appointed wheel and spring of your material prosper- to wait upon the Union Society, now in Ses- ity, interwoven with the entire texture of sion. and invite them to imite in the pro-; your social life, underlying the very founda- ceediugs of this meeting. Committee — itions of the pubhc strength and renown, to Messi-s. Knight. Xewton, and Gamett, of lay upon it any rash hand would put in Henrico. [peril whatever you value; the security of On motion of Mr. Seddon, after various your property, the peace of your society, propositions of amendment, and a free dis- the well-being — if not the existence of that cussion, in which the members of both So- dependent race which Providence has com- cieties participated, the following resolution mitted to your guardianship — the stability was adopted with but two or three dissent- of your government, the presei-vation in ing voices : your midst of imion, liberty, and civiliza- Resohed, That it be recommended to the tion. By the introduction of elements of Executive Committee of the State Agricul- such inexpressible magnitude, the politics tural Society to confer with the Executive of our coimtry have been invested with the Committee of the Union Agricultural Soci- grandeur and significance which belong to ety on the practicability of a permanent those great struggles up«.>n which depend the union of the two Societies, and if found destinies of natrons. The mad outbreaks of practicable, to report the terms of such popular passion, the rapid spread of anar- union to the next meeting of the State chical opinions, the mournful decay of an- Agricultural Society, or to the next Farmers' cient patriotism, the wide disruption of Christian unity, which have marked the progress, and disclosed the power, purpi^se and spirit of this agitation, come home to your business and bt>somp with impressive Assembly, as they may deem judicious. The meeting then adjourned. Thursday Xight, Xov. 4th. 1S5S. The members of the Union Agricultural emphasis of warning and instruction. No Society of Virginia and North Carolina, pause in a strife around which claster all and of the Virginia State Agricultural So- the hopes and fears of freemen,, can give ciety, convened in joint meeting at the any earnest of enduring peace, until the Market Street Baptist Church, at half-past principles of law and order which cover seven o'clock, to hear the Annual Address, with sustaining sanction all the relations of Library 1859.] 'rHE S0UTHE11N PLANTER. 25 our society, have obtained their rightful as-K^cad, (and amongst them I recall no names cendcncy over the reason and conscience of I i^'^^^'e eminent than those associated with the the Christian world proudest traditions of this hospitable and The most instructive chapters in history Patriotic city. Leigh, Gholson. and Brown,) are those of opinions. The"decisive battle- ^vho threw themselves into this imminent fields of the world furnish but vulgar and and deadly breach, and grappling with an deceptive indices of human progress. Its ""' "formed and unreflecting sentiment, de- true eras are marked by transitions of sen- li^'^red the commonwealth, when m the very timent and opinion. Those invisible moral .l^ws of death, from moral, social and polit- forces that emanate from the minds of the ical ruin. Permit me to premise some great thinkers of the race, rule the courses ^^^^^"^ '^f explanation as to the meaning and of history. The recent awakening of our extent of the subject upon which I have Southern mind upon the question'of Afri- t)cen invited to address this meeting. It can Slavery, has been followed by a victory pi'esents no question of municipal or iiiter- of peace, which, we trust, will embrace n^^tional law. It raises no inquiry as to the within its beneficent influence cjenerations rightfulness of the means by which slave- and empires yet unborn. Such was the 'T ^^''-^^ introduced into this continent, nor strcnoth of anti-slavery fteling within our i"''^ ^^^e nature of the legal sanctions under own ^borders, that scarcely a quarter of ^hich it now exists. There can be no a century has elapsed since an Act of ^^^^^^^^ '^^^t slavery, for more than a century Emaiici})atiou was almost consummated, a^er it was established in the English colo- under the auspices of our most intelli- "^^s, was m entire harmony with the Com- gent and patriotic citizens ; a measure "^O" ^^a^' ^s it was expounded by the high- which probably all would now admit bore est judicial authorities, and with the prm- in its womb elements of private distress ^iples of the Law of Nations, and of ^atu- and public calamity, that mu.st have impress- ^a' ^-^^ as laid down m the writings of the ed upon our history, throuch ages of ex- "'"st eminent publicists. At the commence- pandin- desolation, the lines of fire and ^^^nt of our Revolution men were living blood '"But '^^^^ remembered the Treaty of Itrecht. by which, in the lanauage of Lord Brougham, " Wliirlvvi.ul. ."tiiest scattci pestilence." ^jj ^^^^ ^j^^.j^j^ ^^ KamiHies and Blenheim Nothing less than an extremity of peril were bartered for a larger share in the lu- could have induced a general revision of crative commerce of the slave trade. But long-standing opinions, intrenched in for- whatever may be our present opinions upon midable prejudices, and sanctioned by the these subjects, the black race now consti- niost vcncralile aiithorit3\ Slavery was ex- tutes an integral part of our community, as plored, for the fii\st time, with the forward much so as the white, and the authority of and reverted eye of true statesmanship, un- the State to adjust their mntual i-clations der all the lights of history — of social and can in no manner depend upon fh>^ method political philosophy — of natural and Divine by which either was l)rought within its ju- law. Public sentiment rapidly changed its risdiction. The State in every age must face. Every year of controversy has en- provide a constitution and laws, if it does couraged the advocates of " discountenanc- not find them in existence, adapted to its ed truth" by the fresh accessions it has special wants and circumstances. African brought to their numbers, whilst no deser- Slavery in the United States is consistent tions have thinned the enlarging ranks, with Natural Law, because if all the bonds Tlic celebrated declaration of 3lr. Jefferson, of public autbority were suddenly dissolved, that he knew no attribute of the Almighty and the community called upon to recon- which would take tlie side of the master in .struct its social and political system, the re- a contest Avith his slave, is so far from com- lations of the two races remaining in other nianding the assent of the intelligent slave- respects unaltered, it would be our right holders of this generation, that the justice, and duty to reduce the negro to subjection, the humanity, and the policy of the rela- To the ]ihra.sc Natural Law, I shall attach tion as it exists with u.s, lia.s become the in this discussion the signification in which prevailing conviction of our people. Pub- it is generally used, and consider it as sy- lic honours, and gratitude, are the fitting nonymous with justice ; not that imperfect meed of the statesmen, whetlier living or ju.stice which may be discerned by the sav- 26 THE SOUTHERN PLANTER. [January age mind, but those ethical rules, or princi- f pies of right, which, upon the grounds of their own fitness and propriety, and irrespective of the sanction of Divine authority, commend J themselves to the most cultivated human rea- ! son. Slavery we may define, so as to embrace all the elements that properly belong to it, as a condition or relation in which one man j is charged with the protection and support of another, and invested with an abso- lute property in his labour, and such a degree of authority over his person as may be requisite to enforce its enjoyment. It is a form of involuntaiy restraint, extending to the personal as well as political liberty of the subject. The slave has sometimes, as at one period under the Roman ju- risprudence, been reduced to a mere chat- tel, the power of the master over the per- son of the slave being as absolute as his property in his labour. This harsh and unnatural feature has never deformed the relation in any Christian country. In the United States the double character of the slave, as a moral person and as a subject of property, has been universally acknowledg- ed, and to a greater or less degree protect- ed, both by public sentiment and by the law of the land. It furnishes a key to the understanding of one of the most celebra- ted clauses in our Federal Constitution, as all know who are familiar with the lumin- ous exposition, given by Mr. Madison in the Federalist, of its origin and meaning. In our own State, amongst other proofs of its recognition, we may point to the privilege conferred upon the master of emancipa- ting his slave, and to the obligation impos- ed upon him of providing for his support when old, infirm, or insane ; to the enact- ments which punish injuries to the slave, whether from a master or stranger, as of- fences of the same nature as if inflicted upon a white person, and to the construc- tion placed by our courts upon the general language of criminal statutes, by which the slave, as a person, has been embraced with- in the range of their protection ; to the reg- ulations for the trial of slaves charged with the commission of crime, which, whilst they exact the responsibilities of moral agents, temper the administration of jus- tice with mercy, and to the exemption from labour on the Lord's Day, an exemption which is shown by the provision for the Christian slave of a Jewish master, to have been established as a security for a right of conscience. Indeed, he scarcely laljours under any personal disability, to which we may not find a counterpart, in those which attach to those incompetent classes — the minor, the lunatic, and the married wo- man. The statement of my subject presupposes the existence of the State. It thus assumes that there are involuntary restraints which may be rightfully imposed upon men, for the State itself is but the sum and expression of innumerable forms of restraint by which the life, liberty, and faculties of individuals are placed under the control of an authority in- dependent of their volition ? The truth that the selfishness of human nature, forces upon us the necessity of submitting to the disci- pline of law, or living in the license of an- archy, is too obvious to have required any argument in its support, in this presence. Until man becomes a law unto himself, soci- ety through a political organization must supply his want of self-control. Whether it may establish such a form of restraint, as personal slavery, cannot be determined until the principles upon which its authority should be exercised, have been settled, and the boundaries traced between private right and public power. The authority of the State must be commensurate with the objects for which it was established. Its function is, to reconcile the conflicting rights, and oppos- ing interests, and jarring passions of indi- viduals, so as to secure the general peace and progress. It proceeds upon the postulate, that society is our state of nature and that men by the primary law of their being, are bound to live and perfect themselves in fel- lowship with each other. As Grod does not ordain contradictory and therefore impossible things, men can derive no rights from him which are inconsistent with the duration and perfection of society. The rights of the individual are not such as would belong to him, if he stood upon the earth like Campbell's imaginary " Last Man," amidst unbroken solitude, but such only as when balanced with the equal rights of other men, may be accorded to each, without injury to the rest. The necessities of social existence, then, not in the rudeness of the savage state, but under those complex and refined forms which have been developed by Christian civilization, constitute a horizon by which the unbounded liberty of nature is spanned and circumscribed. This is no theory of social absolutism. It 1859.] THE SOUTHERN PLANTER. 27 does not make society the source of our riuht.s, whicli therefore mieht be conferred or withheld at its caprice or discretion, but it does regard the just wants of society, as the measure and practical expression of their extent. It is no reproduction of the exploded error of the ancient statesmen, who inverting the natural relations of the parties, considered the aggrandizement of the State, without reference to the units of which it was composed, as the end of social union. The State was made for man, and not man for the State, but the cooperation of the State is yet so necessary to the perfection of his nature, that his interests require the re- nunciation of any claim inconsistent with its existence, or its value as an agency of civi- lization. It invades no province saci-ed to the individual, because the Divine Being who has- rendered government a necessity, has made it a universal blessing, by ordain- ing a preestablished harmony between the welfare of the individual and the restraints which are requisite to the well-being of society. Unless there is some fatal flaw in this reasoninjr, men have no rights which cannot be reconciled with the possession of a re- straining powder by the State, large enough to embi'aee every variety of injustice and oppression, for which society may furnish the occasion or the opportunity. The social union brings with it dangers and tempta- tions, as well as blessings and pleasures — and men cannot fulfil the law and purpose of their being, unless the State has author- ity to protect the community from the tu- multuous and outbreaking passions of its members, and to protect individuals as far as it can be accomplished without prejudice to the commuiiit}', from the consequences of their own incompetence, improvidence and folly. Such are the natural differences be- tween men in character and capacity, that without a steady and judicious effort by the State to redress the balance of privilege and opportunity which these inequalities constantly derange, the rich must grow richer, and the poor poorer, until even an- archy would be a relief to the masses, from the suffering and oppression of society. Owing likewise to this variety of condition, and of moral and intellectual endowment, it is impos.sible to prescribe any stereotype forms admitting of universal application, under which the restraining discipline of law should be exercised. The ends of social union remain the same through all ages, but the means of realizing those ends must be adapted to successive stages of advance- ment, and change with the varying intelli- gence and virtue of individuals, and classes, and races, and the local circumstances of different countries. The object being su- preme in importance must carry with it as an incident, the right to employ the means which may be requisite to its attainment'. The individual must yield property, liberty, life itself when necessary to preserve the life, as it were, of the collective humanity. To these principles, every enlightened gov- ernment in the world, conforms its practice, protecting men not only from each other, but from themselves, graduating its restraints according to the character of the subject, and multiplying them with the increase of society in wealth, population and refinement. We cannot look into English or American jurisprudence without discovering innume- rable forms of restraint upon rights of per- sons as well as i-ights of property, as in that absolute subordination of all personal rights . to the general welfare, which lies at the foundation of the law for the public defence, the law to punish crimes, and the law to suppress vagrancy ; or in those qualified re- straints by which the administration of jus- tice between individuals, has been some- times enforced, as in imprisonment for debt; or in that partial and temporary subjection of one person to the control of another, either for the benefit of the former, or upon grounds of public policy, presented in the law of parent and child, guardian and ward, master and apprentice, lunatic and commit- tee, husband and wife, oflieer and soldiers of the army, captain and mariners of the ship. Whether we proceed in search of a general principle, which may ascertain the extent of the public authority by a course of inductive reasoning, or by an observation of the practice of civilized communities, we reach the same conclusions. The State must possess the power of imposing any re- straint without regard to its form, which can be shown by an enlarged view of social expediency, or upon an indulgent considera- tion for human infirmity, to be beneficial to its subject, or necessary to the general well- being. In the legislation of Congress for the In- dian tribes within our territory, and in that of great Britain for the alien and dependent natiens under her jurisdiction, we see how 28 THE SOUTHK^N PLJlNTEK. ^Jai^fjey the public auilioritj, as flexible as compre- be expect to find the problem easier in the hensive in its grasp, accommodates itself to West? Has the Hindoo improved in arts and the weakness and infirmity of races, as well as ' morals under the beneficent sway of his 13rit- of individuals. Upon what principles is the ish mastt.'r ? In the transformation of the Af- British government administered in the East? rican savage into the Christian slave, the rel- In 1833, on the application of the East In- ative advance has been immeasurably greater. dia Company for a renewal of its charter, they The truth is, that the principles which lie were explained and defended by Macaulay at the foimdation of all political restraint, in a speech which would have delighted may make it the duty of the State under Burke, as much by its practical wisdom, as certain circumstances, to establish the rela- its glittering rhetoric. An immen.«e society tion of personal servitude. All forms of was placed under the almost despotic rule restraint involve the exercise of power over of a few strangers. Xo securities were pro- the individual without his consent. All are vided for liberty or property, which an Eng- inconsistent with any theory of natural right lishman would have valued. This system of which claims for man, a larger measure of servitude was vindicated, not on the grounds liberty than can be reconciled with the of abstract propriety, but of its adaptation to peace and progress of the society in which the wants and circumstances of those upon he lives. All operate harshly at times u]x>n whom it was imposed. India, it was urged, individuals. All are reflections upon human constituted a vast exception to all those gen- nattire. are alike wrong in theabstntct. Any eral rules of political science which might is right in the concrete, when necessary to the be deduced from the experience of Europe, welfare of the community in which it exists, Her jx>pulation was dis<:jualified by character or beneficial to the subject upon whom it is im- and habit, for the rights and privileges of posed. If society may establish the institution British freemen. In their moral and social of private property, involving restrictions by amelioration, under British rule, was to be which the majority of mankind are shut out found the best proof of its justice and policy, from all access to that great domain which It was a de^jtotism do doubt, but it was a mild the author of nature has stocked with the and paternal one; and no form of restraint means of subsi.stence for his children, and less strinptcnt could be substituted with eqoal justify a restraint so comprehensive and oner- advantage to those ujMjn whom it was to ous, by its tendency to promote civilization ; operate. It has often occurred to me in read- if it may discriminate between classes and iug those fervid declamations upon Southern individuals, and apportion to stime a larger slavery, vnih which this great orator has in- measxire of political lil>erty than it does to flamed the sensibilities of the British public, others; if it mny take away life, liberty or that his lessons of sober and practical states- property when demanded by the public good : manship, from which no English ministry if, as in various personal relations, it may has ever departed, might be turned with ir- protect the helpless and incompetent, by resistible recoil upon their .author. Was placing them under a guardianship propor- American slavery introduced by wrong and tioned in the term and extent of its author- violence ? India was " stripped of her ity to the degree and duration of the infirm- plxmied and jewelled turban." by rapine and ity : why if a commensurate necessity arises, injvLStice. Are the relations of England to and the same great ends are to be accom- India, so anomalous that it would be unsafe plished. is its claim to impose upon an infe- to accept generalizations drawn frnm the ex- rior race the degree of personal restraint perience of other communities ? Uistoiy which may be requisite to coerce and direct might be interrogated in vain, for a parallel its labour, to be treated as a usurpation ? to the condition of our Southern society. The authority of the State tmder proper cir- Are the Hindo >s unfit for liberty? Xot more cumstances, to establish a .system of slavery, so than the African. Is desjwtism necessary is one fpiestion ; the existence of those cir- in India, becaase it is problematical whether cumstances. or the expediency of such leg- crime could be repressed or social order islation is another and entirely distinct ques- preserved under more liberal institutions ? tion. Xo doubt a much smaller capacity The danger of licen.=e and anarchy would be for self-control, and a much lower degree of far more imminent, from an emancipation intelligence must concur, to justify personal of our sbves. If the statesman despairs of slavery, than would be sufficient to impart makina brick without straw in the East, can validity to other form.=? of subordination. Xo 859.1 THE SOUTlIFi^.N I'LANTEIt 29 doubt tlic public autbnvity upon tbis as upon . every otlicr .subject, may be abused by the selfish ]>assi<)ns and interests of men. But j once acknowk'doe the right of society to establisli a government of pains and penal- 1 ties, for the protection of the individual and the promotion of the general welfare, then ' unless it can be shown that plavery can in no instance be necessary to the well being of the community, or conducive to the hap- piness of the subject, (a proposition which is inconsistent with the admission of all re- spectable British and American abolitionists that any plan of emancipation in the South- ern Stiites, should be gradual and not imme- diate ;) once make this fundamental conces- sion, and the rightfulness of slavery, like that of every other form of restraint, be- comes a question of time, place, men and circumstances. The people of the United States accept- ing without much reflection, those exposi- tions of human rights embodied in the infi- del philosophy of France, and glowing with that geueroiLS enthusiasm to communicate the blessings of liberty which is always in- spired by its possession, have been disposed to look witli common aversion upon all forms of unequal restraint. Bavished by the di- vine, airs of their own freedom, they have imagined that its strains, like those heard by the spirit in Comus, might create a soul under the ribs of death. Forgetting the ages through whose long night their fathers wrestled for tliis blessing, they have regard- ed an equal liberty, as the universal birth- right of humanity. Hence, as they have witnessed nation after nation throwing off" its old political bondage, and in the first transports of emotion, "shedding tl;e grate- ful tears of new-born freedom" over the bro- ken chains of servitude, they have welcom- ed them into the glorious fellowship of re- publican States, with plaudit, and sympathy, and benediction. But, alas! the crimes which have been committed in the name of liberty, the social disorder and political con- vulsion which have attended its progress, if they have not broken the power of its spells over the heart, have dispersed the illusions of our understanding. What has become of France, Italy, Greece, Mexico, Spanish America? that stately fleet of freedom, which when first launched upon the seas of time, with all its bravery on, was "courted by every wind that held it play." A part has been swallowed up in the gulfs of anar- chy and despotism — the rest ttill float above the Ma\e. but with rudder and anchor gone, si ripped of e\ery bellying sail and steadying spar, they only serve, "Liks ocean wrecks, to illuminate tin stem." The melancholy experience of both hem- ispheres has compelled all but the projectors of revolution to acknowledge, that the forms of liberty are valueless without its spirit, and that an attempt tc" outstrip the march of Providence, by conferring it on a people un- prepared for its enjoyments by habit, tradi- tion, or character, is an indescribable folly — which instead of establishing peace, order and justice, will be more likely to inaugu- rate a reign of terror and crime in which civilization itself may perish. If the justice or fitness of slavery is to be determined, like other forms of involuntary restraint, not by speculative abstractions, but by reference to its adaptation to the wants and circumstances of the community in which it is established, and especially of the people over whom it is imposed, it only re- mains that we should apply these principles to the question of African Slavery in the United States. I shall not defend it as the only relation between the races, in which the superior can preserve the civilization that renders life dear and valuable. This propo- sition can indeed be demonstrated by plena- ry evidence, and it is suiEcient by itself to acquit the slaveholder of all guilt in the eye of morals. But if the system could be vin- dicated upon no higher ground, every gene- rous spirit would grieve over the mournful necessity which rendered the degradation of the black man indispensable to the advance- ment of the white. Providence has con- demned us to no such cruel and unhappy fate. The relation in our society is demand- ed by the highest and most enduring inter- ests of the slave, as well as the master. It exists and must be preserved for the benefit of both parties. Duty is indeed the tenure of the master's right. Upon him there rests a moral obligation to make such provision for the comfort of the slave, as after proper consideration of the burthens and casualities : of the service, can be deemed a fair com- j pensation for his labour; to allow every in- j nocent gratification compatible with the I steady, though mild discipline, as necessary I to the happiness as the value of the slave ; to furnish the means and facilities for reli- Igious instruction; and to contribute, as far 30 THE SOUTHEKN PLANTER. [January and fast as a proper regard to the public rights of man,"' sajs Carlyle, ''the right of safety will permit, to his general elevation the ignorant man to be guided by the wiser, and improvement. For oppression or injus- ^ to be gently and firmly held in the true tice, allow me to say, I have no excuse to ' course, is the indispensablest. Xature has offer. I am willing to accept the sentiment ordained it from the first. Society struggles of the heathen philosopher, and to regard a towards perfection by conforming to and ac- man's treatment of his slaves as a test of his complishing it, more and more. If freedom virtue. And whenever a slaveholder is have any meaning, it means enjovment of found who so far forgets the sentiments of this right, in which all other rights are en- humanity, the feelings of the gentleman, and joyed. It is a divine right and duty on both the principles of the Christian, as to abuse sides, and the sum of all social duties be- the authority which the law gives him over tween the two." Under the circumstances his slaves, I trust that a righteous and aveng- I have supposed, no intelligent man cnuld inw public sentiment will pursue him with hesitate, except as to the fonu of subordina- the scorn and degradation which attend the tion : nor has entire equality been ever al- husband or father, who by cruel usage makes lowed in society where the inferior race con- home iutolerable to wife or child. stituted an element of any magnitude. Personal and political liberty are both re- ' Personal servitude is generally the harsh- quisite to develop the highest style of man. est and most objectionable form of restraint, They furnish the amplest opportunities for exposing its subjects to an abuse of pow- the exercise of that self-control which is the er involving greater suffering than any other, germ and essence of every virtue, and for But this is not an invariable law, even in a that expansive and ameliorating culture by homogeneous society. The most recent re- which our whole nature is exalted in the searches into the condition of the labouring scale of being, and clothed with the grace, classes of Europe, the descendants of the dignity and authority, becoming the lords of emancipated serfs, have satisfied all candid creation. "Whenever the population of a inquirers after truth that a large number State is homogeneous, although slavery may have sunk below the level of their ancient perform some important functions in quick- slavery, and would be thankftd to belong to ening the otherwise tardy processes of civi- any master who would fiu-nish them ^with lizatiou, it ought to be regarded as a tempo- focid, clothing and shelter. But when we rary aud provisional relation. If there are are settling the law of a society embracing no radical differences of physical organiza- in its bosom distinct and unequal races, the tion or moral character, the barriers between problem is complicated by elements which classes are not insurmountable. The discip- create the gravest doubt whether personal line of education aud liberal institutions, may liberty will prove a blessing or a curse. It raise the serf to the level of the baron. — may become a question between the slavery, Asainst any artificial circumscription seeking and the extinction or further deterioration to arrest that tendency to freedom which is of the inferior race. Thus, if it is diflicult the normal state of every society of equals, to procure the means of subsistence from human nature would constantly rise in rebel- density of population or other cause, and if lion. But where two distinct races are col- the inferior race is incapable of sustaining a lected upon the same territory, incapable competition with the superior in the indus- from any cause of fusion or severance, the trial pursuits of life, a condition of free- one being as much superior to the other in dom which would involve such competition, strength and intelligence as the man to the must either terminate in its destruction, or child" there the rightful relation between consign it to hopeless degradation. If, them is that of authority upon the one side, under these circumstances, a system of per- and subordination in some form, upon the sonal servitude gave reasonable assurance other. Equality, personal and political, could of preserving the inferior race, and gradu- not be established without inflicting the cli- ally imparting to it the amelioration of a max of injustice upon the superior, and of higher civilization, no Christian statesman cruelty on the inferior race: for if it were could mistake the path of duty. Natural possible to preserve such an arrangement, it law, illiuninated in it-= decision by History, would wrest the sceptre of dominion from Philosophy, and Eeligion. would not only the wisdom and strength of society, and sur- clothe the relation with the sanction of jus- render it to its weakness and folly. " Of all tice, but lend to it the lustre of mercy. It 1859.] THE SOUTHERN PLANTER. will not, I apprehend, be difficult to show that all these conditions apply to African sla- very in the United States. Look at the races which have been brought i'ace to face in unmanageable masses, upon this continent, and it is impossible to mistake their relative position. The one still filling that humble and subordinate place, which as the pictured monuments of Egypt attest, it has occupied since the dawn of history ; a race which du- ring the long-revolving cycles of intervening time has founded no empire, built no towered city, invented no art, discovered no truth, be- queathed no everlasting possession to the fu- ture, through law-giver, hero, bard, or bene- factor of mankind : a race which, though lifted immeasurably above its native barbar- ism by the refining influence of Christian servi- tude has yet given no signs of living and self- sustaining culture. The other, a great com- posite race which has incorporated into its bo- som all the vital elements of human progress ; which, crowned with the traditions of histo- ry and bearing in its hands the most precious trophies of civilization, still rejoices in the overflowing energy, the abounding strength, the unconquerable will which have made it " the heir of all the ages;" and which with aspirations unsatisfied by centuries of toil and achievement, still vexes sea and land with its bus}' industry, binds coy nature fas- ter in its chains, embellishes life more prodi- gally with its arts, kindles a wider inspira- tion from the fountain lights of freedom, follows knowledge, ''like a sinking star, Beyond the utmost bound of human thought," and pushing its unresting columns still further into the regions of eldest Night, in lands more remote than any over which Roman eagles ever flew, " to the farthest verge of the green earth," plants the con- quering banner of the Cross, "Encircling continents and oceans vast, In one humanity." It is impossible to believe that the supre- macy in which the Caucasian has towered over the African through all the past can be shaken, or that the black man can ever suc- cessfidly dispute the preeminence with his white brother as members of the .same com- munity, in the arts and business of life. Could such races be mated with each other ? It is unnecessary to refer to Egypt or Cen- tral America, where a mongrel population, monumenta veneris nefandee, exhibit the de- teriorating influence of a similar fusion. If there were no broad and indelible dividing- lines of colour and physical organization to keep the black and white races apart, their respective traditions, extremes of moral and intellectual advancement, and unequal apti- tudes, if not capacities for higher civilization, separate them by an impassible gulf. Ihat feeble remnant of our kindred, who, surround- ed by hordes of barbarians, yet linger among the deserted seats of West India civilization, may foi'get the dignity of Anglo-Saxon man- hood, in the despair and poverty to which they have been reduced by British injui^^tice; but we " sprung of earth's first blood," and " foremost in the files of time," who under Providence are masters of our destiny, will never permit the generations of American history to be bound together by links of shame. Is the deportation of the xifricau race practicable ? A more extravagant pro- ject was never seriously entertained by the human understanding. There are economi- cal considerations alone, which would render it utterly hopeless. The removal of our black population would create a gap in the industry of the world, which no white imi- gration could fill. It would bring over the general prosperity of the counti'y a blight and ruin, that would dry up all the sources of revenue on which the success oi" the measure Avould depend. Its consequences woidd not terminate with this continent. The great wheel which moves the commerce and manufactures of the world, would be arrested in its revolutions. General bank- ruptcy would follow a shock, besides v>hich the accumulated financial crises of centuries would be unfclt. In the recklessness and despair of crime and famine thus induced, the ancient landmarks of empire might be disturbed, and all existing governments sha- ken to their foundation. No favorable in- ference can be drawn from immense emi- gration, which, like the swell of a mighty sea, is pouring upon our shores. It conies from regions where population is too dense for subsistence and where a vacant space is closed as soon as it is opened. It is impelled by double influences, neither of which can operate to any extent upon the American slave, want and wretchednc-s at home, and all material and moral attractions abroad. It is composed of men accustomed at least to per- sonal freedom, and belonging to races en- dowed with far more energy and intelligence than the African. It is received into a com- THE SOIJiniaiiN PLANTER. r January mmity, whose strength and vitality enable , serdtude, or mingled by a deteriorating and it to absorb and assluiiiate a much larger ' demoralizing fusion, the inferior must choose fcrcisrn element than any of which history between slavery and extinction. Upon these has any record. If the black man was' principles only can vre explain the preserva- able and willing to return to his native land, tion of the Indian inhabitants of Spanish he must carry with him the habits and feel- America, and the destruction of the aborigi- inss of the dave. Can it be supposed that nal races which have crossed the path of Euch a hvins cloud as the annual increase English colonization. All the lower stages of our slaves, could discharge its contents of civilization are characterized by an im- into the bosom of any African society, with- providence of the future and a predominance out bliehtin» in the license of their first of the animal nature, which increa.se the emancipatioiT from all restraint, whatever force of temptation, and at the sometime di- promise of civilization it might have held minish the power of resistance. Hence it is, out. that when an inferior race, animated by the If we must accept the permanent resi- \ passions of the savage, but destitute of the denc-e of this race ujx»n our soil, as a provi- \ restraining self-control which is developed dential arran<;emeut bevond human control, by civilization, is brought in contact with a it only remains to adjust the form of its- higher form of social existence, where the subord'mation. Should it embrace personal, stimulants and facilities for sensual gratifica- as well as political servitude ? Personal tion are multiplied, and the consequences of slavery surrounds the blact man with a pro- . excess and improvidence aggravateil in fatal- tectioii and salutary control which his own ity, it is mown down by a mortahty more reason and energies are incapable of supply- ! terrific than the widest waste of war. Pri- insr, and by converting elements of deatruc- , vate charity and the influence of Christian- tion into s<:.urces of progress, promotes his ity upon individuals may retard the opera- physical comfort, his intellectual culture, and tion of these causes, but destruction is only his mural amelioration. Emancipation upon a question of time. Without a judicious the other hand in any furm, gradual or im- 1 husbandry of the surplus proceeds of labour mediate, would either destroy the race in the day of prosperity to meet the demands through a wasting proverty, vice, I of age, sickness and casuxilty. poverty alone and crime, or sink it into an irrecoverable ' with the disease, suffering and crime that deep of savage degradation. What Homer ! attend it. would wear out any labouring pop- has said may be true, that a free man loses julation. The remnant of the Indian tribes half his value the day he becomes a slave ; ■ scattered along the lower banks of the St. but it is quite as true, that the slave who is Lawrence, present an impressive illustration converted into a freeman, is more Ukely to of these simple political truths. " They man- lose the remaining half than to recover what ; ifest,*' says Prof. Bowen, " sufficient indus- is ffone. There are no rational groxmds upon ^ try when the reward of labour is immediate : which we could antici]^»ate for our slaves, an ; but surrounded by an abundance of fertile advancing civilization if they were emanci- ' and cleared land, where others would grow patcd, or upon which we could expect them rich, they are rapidly perishing from improv- to preserve their contented teni]->er, their ; idence alone." material comfort, their indtistrious habits, | Even in England, in periods of manufac- and their general morality. The negro has tuning prosperity, when wages are high, the learned much in contact with the white j Chancellor of the Exchequer reckons with man, but he is yet ignorant of that great , as much confidence upon the expenditure by art which is the guardian of all acquisition, the operatives of their surplus profits, in the art of self-gcverment. The superiority i spirits, tobacco, and other hurtful stimulants, of the white man in skill, energy, foresight, j as upon the proceeds of the income tax. — providence, aptitude for improvement, and i And if the working class of England, in- control over the lower appetites and j>assious, . stead of being constantly recruited from a would give him a decisive and fatal advan- higher order of society, consisted of an in- tage in the pitiless competition of life. The ferior race, the annual losses from intempe- liirht which history sheds aroimd this pro- 1 ranee and improvidence would soon carry it bfem, is broad and unchanging. Wherever off. As popiilation becomes denser, our free unequal races are brought together, unless blacks are destined to exempUfy the same reduced bv despotism to an indiscriminate great law. In the free States, where an en- 1859.] THE SOUTHERN PLANTER. 33 croacliing' tide of white emigration is driving i to compel the labour of the free black man, them from one field of industry after another, I but in vain. In the British West Indies, they already stand, as the statistics of popu- since emancipation, no expedients have pro- lation, disease and crime disclose, upon thciven effectual to conquer this repugnance to narrowest isthmus which can divide life from exertion. The English historian, Alison, death. When we remember that the de-^who, whatever may be his political sen ti- structive agencies W'hich would be let loose ments, has no sympathies with slavery, in amongst our slaves, by emancipation, are as , his last volume, thus describes the result of fatiil to morals as to life, and that the natu-jthe experiment. " But disastrous as the re- ral inequality between the races would be i suits of the change have been to British increased by a constant accession of num- ; interests both at home and in the AVest In- bers to the white through emigration, it is dies, they are as nothing to those which not extravagant to assert that exterminating have ensued to the negroes themselves, both massacre would involve a swifter, but scarce- , in their native seats and the Trans-Atlantic ly more certain or more cruel death. , Colonies. The fatal gift of premature eman- If emancipation took place in a tropical cipation has proved as pernicious to a race region, where climate forbade the competi- as it always does to an individual: the boy tion of white labour, and the exuberance of of seventeen sent out into the world, ha^ nature supplied the means of life without continued a boy, and does as other boys do. the necessity of intelligent and systematic The diminution of the agricultural exported industry, there are other causes which would produce of the islands to less than a half, remove from the slave every safeguard of proves how much their industry has declin- progress, and render his relapse into barba- ed. The reduction of the consumption of rism inevitable. Civilization depends upon their British produce and manufactures in a activity, development, progress. It is mea- similar proportion, tells unequivocally how sured by our wants and our work. Without much their means of comfort and enjoyment indulging in any rash generalizations, we have fallen off. Generally speaking, the may safely affirm, that where animal life can incipient civilization of the negro has been be sustained without labour, and an enerva- arrested by his emancipation : with the ces- ting climate invites to indolent repose, we sation of forced labour, the habits which cannot expect from that class of society spring from and compensate it, have disap- upon whom in every country the cultivation peared, and savage habits and pleasures have of the soil depends, any industrious emula- resumed their ascendency over the sable tion. So powerful is the influence of these race. The attempts to instruct and civilize physical causes over barbarous tribes, that them have, for the most part, proved a fail- under the torrid zone, as we are informed ure ; the dok-c far nicnte equally dear to tho by Humboldt, where a beneficent hand has unlettered savage as to the effeminate Euro- profusely scattered the seeds of abundance, pean, has resimied its sway; and the eman- indolcnt and improvident man experiences cipated Africans dispersed in the woods, or periodically a want of subsistence which is in cabins erected amidst the ruined planta- unfelt in the sterile regions of the North, tions, are ftist relapsing into the state in xVs men increase in virtue and intelligence, which their ancestors were when first torn they become more capable of resisting the from their native seats by the rapacity uf a operation of climate and other natural laws, Christian avarice." A melancholy confir- but some form of slavery has been the only mation of this statement is furnished by a basis upon which civilization has yet rested fact which I have learned from a reliable in any tropical country. If it can be su.s- private source, that the prevailing crimes of tained upon any other, it must be by a race this population have changed from petty lar- endowcd with a larger fund of native energy ceny to felonies of the higliest grades. But than the African, or (juickencd by the elec- if the black race could escape barbarism, or trie power of a higher culture than he has defy those destroying elements of society, ever possessed. His moral and physical poverty and crime, there is a • more compre- conformation predispose him to indolence, hensive political induction which establishes Calum noil animiim mutaiif, has, been the the justice and expediency of its subjection law of his history. Under the Code Rural to servitude. If in any community there is of Ilayti, the harshest compulsion has been an inferior race which is condemned by per- used to subdue the sloth of barbarism, and manent and irresistible causes to occupy the 3 ' 34 THE SOUTHERN PLANTER. [January condition of a working class, not as indepen- dent proprietors of tlie soil they till, but as labourers for hire, then a system of personal slavery under -which the welfare of the slave could be connected with the interest of the master, would be far preferable to the collec- tive servitude of a degraded caste. This proposition supposes the existence, not of an inferior class simply, but an inferior race — which, as such, is condemned by nature to wear the livery of servitude in some form — which can never be quickened or sustained by those animating prospects of wealth, dig- nity and power which, in a homogeneous community, pour a renovating stream of moral health through every vein and artery of social life — which must earn a scanty and precarious subsistence by a stern, uuinter- mitting and unequal struggle with selfish capital. Can any skepticism resist the con- viction that, under such circumstances, a social adjustment which would engage the selfish passions of the superior race to pro- vide for the comfort of the inferior, must be an arrangement of mercy as well as of jus- tice ? Upon this question the experience of England is full of instruction. The aboli- tion of slavery upon the continent of Eu- rope gradually .converted the original serfs into owners of the soil. In England, it ter- minated with personal manumission — leav- ing the villein to work as a labourer for wa- ges, or to farm as a tenant upon lease. What has been the effect of this great social revolution ? I do not refer to that saturna- lia of poverty, misery, vagrancy, and crime which immediately followed the disruption of the old feudal bonds, and the adjustment j of the new relations of lord and vassal, by | the "cold justice of the laws of political i economy." What is the present condition of the English labourer ? English writers, whose fidelity and accuracy are above suspi- cion, have almost exhausted the power of language in describing his abject wretched- ness and squalid misery. They have distri- buted their population into the rich, the comfortable, the poor, and the perishing. That "■ bold peasantry, their country's pride," has almost disappeared. Every improve- ment in an industrial process which dimin- ishes the amount of human labour, brings with it more or less of suffering to the Eng- lish operative. Every scarce harvest, every fluctuation in trade, every financial crisis ex- poses him to beggary or starvation. In the selfish competition between the capitalist and workman, says a distinguished christian phi- lanthropist, '• the capitalist, whether farmer, merchant, or manufacturer, plays the game, wins all the high stakes, takes the lion's share of the profits, and throws all the losses, involving pauperism and despair, upon the masses." Nothing can be more hopeless than the condition of the agricultural labour- er. All the life of England, says Bowen in his lectures on Political Economy, " is in her commercial and manufacturing classes. Out^ side of the city walls, we are in the middle ages again. There are the nobles and the serfs, true castes, for nothing short of a mira- cle can elevate or depress one who is born a member of either." Moral and intellectual culture cannot be connected with physical destitution and suffering. We are not there- fore surprised to learn, from a recent British Quarterly, that there is an overwhelming class of outcasts at the bottom of their soci- ety whom the present system of popular ed- ucation does not reach, who are below the influence of religious ordinances, and scarce- ly operated upon by any wholesome restraint of public opinion. For the relief of this wretchedness an immense pauper system has grown up, as grinding in its exactions upon the rich, as demoralizing in its bounties to the poor. But even this frightful evil ap- pears insignificant, in comparison with that embittered and widening feud between the classes of society, which has filled the most sanguine friends of human progress with the apprehension, that England's greatest dan- ger may spring from the despair of her own children, the beggars who gaze in idleness and misery at Jier wealth, the savages who stand by the side of her civilization, and the heathen who have been nursed in the bosom of her Christianity. The intelligent philan- thropists of England, place their whole hope I of remedy in plans of colonization — plans for substituting cooperative associations for the system of hired service — plans for in- creasing the number of peasant proprietors, and thus placing labour on a more indepen- dent basis — for educating the working class, and for legislation which will facilitate the circulation of capital, and the more equal distribution of property. But if this evil working in the heart in the nation be incu- rable, if the helotism of the working classes should prove, as it has already been pro- nounced, irretrievable, I am far from advo- cating a reduction of the English labourer to slavery. There is no radical distinction 1859.] THE SOUTHERN PLANTER. 35 of race, between the labourer and the capi- talist. The latter owes his superiority, not to nature, but to the vantage ground of op- portunity. Nature has implanted a con- sciousness of equality, so deeply in the bo- som of the labourer, that personal slavery would bring with it a sense of degradation he could never endure. Whatever the gen- eral destitution and sufferings of his class, an undying hope will ever whisper to the individual that a happy fortune may raise him to comfortable independence, or social consideration. The very thought, that from his loins may spring some stately figure to tread, with dignity the shining eminences of life, is able to alleviate many hours of des- pondency. But above all, an instinctive love of liberty, such as was felt by the Spar- tan when he compared it to the sun, the most brilliant, and at the same time, the most useful object in creation, cherished in the Englishman by the traditions of centu- ries of struggle in its achievement and de- fence, cause him to echo the sentiment of his own poet, "Bondage is winter, darkness, death, despair, Freedom, the sun, the sea, the mountains and the air."' I fully subscribe to an opinion which has been expressed by an accomplished Southern writer, that an attempt to enslave the Eng- lish labourer would equal, though it could not exceed in folly, an attempt to liberate the American slave — either seriously attemp- ted and with sufficient power to oppose the natural current of events would over- whelm the civilization of the continent in which it occurred in anarchy. But if the English labourer belonged to a different race from his employer ; if they were sepa- rated by a moral and intellectual disparity such as divides the Southern slave from his master : if instead of the sentiments and traditions of liberty which would make bon- dage worse than death, he had the gentle, tractable and submissive temper that adapt the African to servitude, who oan doubt that a slavery which would insure comfort and kindness, would improve his condition in all its aspects ? None of the circumstances which prevent the application of the general proposition we have been discussing to the English labour- er, extend to the American slave — none of the plans which have been suggested for the relief of the former would offer any hope of amelioration to the latter. No man who knows anything of the negro character, can for a moment suppose that the land of the country, could be distributed between them as tenant proprietors. If it was given to them to day, their improvidence would make it the property of the white man to morrow. Indeed the fact to which Mr. Webster called attention, that the products of the slave-holding States are destined mainly, not for the immediate consumption, but for purposes of manufacture and com- mercial exchange, exclude the possibility of an extended system of tenant proprietorship, and render cultivation and disposal by capi- tal upon a large scale indispensable. The black man if emancipated must work for hire. Would he be better able to hold his own against the capitalist than the English labourer ? Would not the misery and deg- radation of the latter, but faintly foreshadow the doom of the emancipated slave ? His days embittered and shortened by privation ; cheered by no hope of a brighter future ; the burthens of liberty without its privile- ges ; the degradation of bondage without its compensations ; " the name of freedom gra- ven on a heavier chain;" his root in the grave, the liberated negro under the influ- ence of moral causes as irresistible as the laws of gravity, would moulder earthward. What is there, may I not ask, in the misery and desolation of this collective servitude, to compensate for the sympathy, kindness, com- fort, and protection which so generally solace the suffering, and sweeten the toil, and make tranquil the slumber, and contented the spirits of the slave, whose lot has been cast in the sheltering bosom of a Southern home ? The approximation to equality in numbers, which has been hastily supposed to render emancipation safer than in the West Indies, would give rise to our greatest danger. It will not be long before the unmixed white population of the West Indies will be re- duced, by the combined influences of emi- gration and amalgamation, t<> a few factors m the sea ports. In the United States, not only would the exodus of either race, or their fusion, be impracticable, but the pride of civilization, which now stoops with alac- rity to bind up the wounds of the slave, would spurn the aspiring contact of the free man. The points of sj-mpathy between mas- ter and slave may not be as numerous or pow- erful as we could desire, but between the white and the black man, in any society in which they are recognised as equals, and in which 36 THE SOUTHERN PLANTER. [January the latter are sufficiently niimeroiis to create j apprehension as to the consequences of dis- trust and aversion, a growing: ill-will would deepen into irreconcilable animosity. Look | at the isolation in which, notwithstanding! their insignificance as a class, the free blacks of the North now live. " The negro," says ; De Tocqueville, " is free, but he can share i neither the rights, nor the pleasures, nor the ! labour, nor the aifections, nor the altar, nor , the tomb of him whose equal he has been declared to be. He meets the white man upon fair terms, neither in life nor in death." j What could be expected from a down-trod- den race, existing in masses large enough to , be formidable, in whose bosoms the law it- self nourished a sense of injustice by pro- claiming an equality which Nature and so- ciety alike denied, with passions unrestrain- ed by any stake in the public peace, or any : bonds of attachment to the superior class, ; but that it should seek in some frenzy of despair, to shake ofi" its doom of misery and degradation ? Would not the atrocities ' w'hich have always distinguished a war of i races, be perpetrated on a grander and more appalling scale than the world has ever yet witnessed? The recollections of hereditary' feud alone have, in every age, so inflamed the angry passions of our nature as to lend a deeper gloom even to the horrors of war. When the poet describes the master of the lyre, as seeking to rouse the martial ardour of the Grecian conqueror and his attendant nobles, he brings before them the ghosts of their Grecian ancestors that were left unbu- ried on the plains of Troy, who tossing their lighted torches — "Point to the Persian abodes, And glittering temples of their hostile gods." "But what would be the ferocity awakened in half-savage bosoms, when embittered memo- ries of long-descended hate towards a supe- rior race, exasperated by the maddening pangs of want, impelled them to seek retri- bution for centuries of imaginary wrong? p]ither that precious harvest of civilization which has been slowly ripening under the toils of successive generations of our fath- ers, and the genial sunshine and refreshing showers of centuries of kindly Providence, would be gathered by the rude sons of spoil, or peace would return after a tragedy of crime and sorrow, with whose burthen of woe the voice of history would be tremulous through long ages of after time. The whole reasoning of modern philan- thropy upon this subject has been vitiated, by its overlooking those fundamental moral differences between the races, which consti- tute a far more important element in the po- litical arrangements of society, than relative intellectual power. It is immaterial how these differences have been created. Their exi.stence is certain; and if capable of re- moval at all, they are yet likely to endure for such an indefinite period, that in the consideration of any practical problem, we must regard them as permanent. The col- lective superiority of a race can no more ex- empt it from the obligations of justice and mercy, than the personal superiority of an individual; but where unequal races are compelled to live together, a sober and in- telligent estimate of their several aptitudes and capacities must form the basis of their social and political organization. The intel- lectual weakness of the black man is not so characteristic, as the moral qualities which distinguish him from his white brother. The warmest friends of emancipation, amongst others the late Dr. Channing, have acknow- ledged that the civilization of the African, must present a different type from that of the Caucasian, and resemble more the de- velopment of the East than the West. His nature is made up of the gentler elements. Docile, affectionate, light-hearted, facile to impression, reverential, he is disposed to look without for strength and direction. In the courage that rises with danger, in the energy that would prove a consuming fire to its pos- sessor, if it found no object upon which to spend its strength, in the proud aspiring temper which would render slavery intolera- ble, he is far inferior to other races. Hence, subordination is as congenial to his moral, as a warm latitude is to his physical nature. Freedom is not "chartered on his manly brow" as on that of the native Indian. Un- kindness awakens resentment, but servitude alone carries no sense of degradation flital to self-respect. A civilization like our own could be developed only by a free people ; but under a system of slavery to a superior race, which was ameliorated by the charities of our religion, the African is capable of making indefinite progress. lie is not ani- mated by that love of liberty which Bacon quaintly compared to a spark that ever flieth in the fice of him who seoketh to trample it under foot. The masses of the old world, under various forms of slavery, have exhibi- 1859.] THE SOUTHERN PLANTER. 37 ted a standing discontent, and their strug- gles for freeduui have been the flashes of a smothered but deeply liidden fire. The obe- dience of the African, unless disturbed by some impulse from without, and to which he yields only in a vague hope of obtaining re- spite from labour, is willing and cheerful. De Tocqueville, in his work on the French Revolution, points out a difference between nations, in what ho calls the sublime taste for freedom — some seeking it for its material blessings only, others for its intrinsic attrac- tions ; and adds, " that he who seeks free- dom for anything else than freedom's self, is made to be a slave." How fallacious must be any political induction which transfers to the African that love of peisonal liberty, which Avells from the heart of our own race in a spring-tide of passionate devotion, the winters of despotism could never chill. The Providence which appointed the Anglo-Sax- on to lead the van of human progress fitted him for his mission, by preconfiguring his Boul to the influences of freedom. This sen- timent is indestructible in his nature. It would survive the degradation of any form or term of bondage. Like the sea shell, when torn from its. home in the deep, his heart, through all the ages of slavery, would be vocal with the music of his native liberty. The strength of that security against op- pression which the Southern slave derives from the selfishness of human nature, has never been sufl^ciently appreciated, for, in truth, it has existed in connection with no other form of servitude. With ex- ceptions too slight to deserve remark, in Greece and Rome, in the British and Span- ish colonies, it was cheaper to buy slaves than to raise them, to work them to death, than to provide for them in life. Hence in Rome, the slaves of the public were better cared for than those of the individual. With us, the master has a large and imme- diate interest, not only in the life, but the health, comfort and impirovemcnt of his slave, for they all add to his value and effi- ciency as a labourer. Southern slavery must therefore be tried upon its own merits, and not by data true or false, collected from other forms of servitude. Arithmetic, Gib- bon once said, is the natural eneni}^ of rhet- oric, and a single statement will suffice to discredit all the reasoning, and pour con- tempt upon all the declamation which has confounded our slavery with that of the British West ladies. From the most re- liable calculations that can be made, says Carey, in his llssay on the Slave Trade, it appears that for every African imported into the United States, ten are now to be found, such has been the wonderful growth of population ; for every three imported into the British West Indies, only one now ex- ists, such has been its frightful decline. But however ample this protection may be to the slave from the oppression of stran- [gers, his own passions, it is urged, will lead , th(3 master to spurn the restraints of inter- jest. But what security against an abuse of [power, has human wisdom ever devised which is likely to operate with such uniform and prevailing force ? As Burke said of another social institution, " it makes our weakness subservient to our virtue, and grafts our benevolence, even upon our ava- rice." All the evidence which is accessi- ble, the statistics of population, of consump- tion as shown both by imports, and the bal- ance between production and exports, and the testimony of intelligent and candid travellers bear witness to its general efficien- cy. And it is to be remarked that whilst the slave partakes largely and immediately of his master's prosperity, the reverses which reduce the latter to beggary or star- vation, pass almost harmless over his head. In other countries the pressure of every public calamity falls upon the working classes : but with us the slave is placed in a great measure beyond their reach, by the circumstance that his hire or ownership im- port a condition of life in which the means of siibsistonce are enjoyed. From the de- moralization of extreme want, so fatal to vix'tue as well as happiness in other lands, he is thus always saved. It was the benevolent wish of Henry the Fourth, of France, that every peasant in his dominions might have a fowl in his pot for Sunday. In every age the patriot has off"ered a similar prayer for the labouring poor of his country. But it is only in the Southern States of our confed- eracy, that the sun ever beheld a meal of wholesome and abundant food, the daily re- ward of the children of toil. The relation is so far from having any tendency to provoke those angry and resents ful feelings which would excite the master to acts of cruelty, that its tendency is di- rectly the reverse. It was truly said by Legare, that ^)rt?Tfrc suhjecfis, was not exclusively a Roman vir- tue : that it was a law of the heart, the 38 THE SOUTHERN PLANTER. [Januabt usual attribute of undisputed ]X)"W"er ; and tliat ttere were few men who did not feel the force of that beautiful and touching appeal : " Behold, behold, I am thy ser- vant."' It was owing to this principle that when the dependence of the feudal vassal upon his lord was most complete, their mu- tual attachment, (as we are assured by Gil- bert Stewart and other historians of this period,) was strongest, and as the feudal tenure decayed, and the law was interposed between them, the kindness upon one side and the affection and gratitude upon the other disappeared. It is not simply the consciousness of strength which tends to disarm resentment in the bosom of the mas- ter. It is the long and intimate association, connected with the feelings of interest awakened in all but the hardest hearts by the cares and responsibilities of guardian- ship which makes the slave an object of friendly regard, and bring him within that circle of kindly sympathies which cluster around the domestic hearth. It is a form of that generous feeling which bound the Highland chieftain to his clan, and which, with greater or less force, depending upon the virtue of the age, attaches to every re- lation of patriarchal authority. According to Dr. Arnold, (in his tract on the Social Condition of the Operative Classes.) the old system of English slavery was far kinder than that now existing in England of hired service. The affection between the master and the villain is shown by the fact that villainage " wore out" by voluntary manu- mission— a circumstance which never would have happened had the relation been one simply of profit and loss. Shakspeare in his character of old Adam, in " As You Like It," has adverted to the more genial and kindly elements which distinguished this legal service from that for wages. Or- lando, in replying to the pressing entreaty of the old servant to go with him, and "do the service of a younger man in all his business and necessities," says — '•Oh good old man. how well in thee appears The constant service of the antique world, When service sweat for duty — not for meed." The mutual good will of distinct classes has, in all ages, been dependent upon a well defined subordination. This opinion is eon- firmed by the testimony of one of the most eloquent writers of New England, in ref- erence to the workings of its social system as they fell under his persi^nal observation. •'I appeal," says Dana in his Essay on Law as suited to Man, '• to those who remember the state of our domestic relations, when the old Scriptural terms of master and ser- vant were in use. I do not fear contradic- tion when I say there was more of mutual good will then than now ; more of trust on the one side and fidelity on the other ; more of protection and kind care, and more of gratitude and affectionate respect in return ; and because each understood well his place, actually more of a certain freedom, tem- pered by gentleness and by deference. From the very fact that the distinction of classes was more marked, the bond between the individuals constituting these two, was closer. As a general truth, I verily believe that, with the exception of near-blood re- lations, and here and there peculiar friend- ships, the attachment of master and servant was closer and more enduring than that of almost any other connection in life. The young of this day, under a change of for- tune, will hardly Hve to see the eye of an old, faithful servant fill at their fall ; nor will the old domestic be longer housed and warmed by the fireside of his master's child, or be followed by him to the grave. The blessed sun of those good old days has gone down, it may be for ever, and it is very cold." It is through the operation of these kindly sentiments, which it awakens on both sides, that African slavery recon- ciles the antagonism of classes that has elsewhere reduced the highest statesman- ship to the verge of despair, and becomes the great Peace-maker of our society, con- verting inequalities, which are sources of danger and discord in other lands, into pledges of reciprocal service, and bonds of mutual and intimate friendship. But a vigilant and restraining public opinion surrounds our slaves with a cumu- lative security. The master is no chartered libertine. Custom, the greatest of law- givers, places visible metes and bounds upon his authority which few are s<3 hardy as to transcend. Native humanity and Christian principle inscribe their limitations upon the living tables of his heart. A public sentiment, growing in its strength and increasing in its exactions, covers the slave with a protecting shield, far less easUy or frequently broken through, than those feeble barriers of law which in our Free States, are interposed between the degraded 1858.] THE SOUTHERN PLANTER. 39 and outcast black man, and his white bro- ther. "Written hiws never to be received as accurate exponents of the rights and privileges of a people, are most fallacious when appealed to as a standard, by which to determine the character of a system of slaveiy; for the wisest and most humane must acknowledge that the introduction of law may so disturb the harmony and good will of any domestic relation, as to breed more mischief than it can possibly cure. It is not simply in reference to the food, cloth- ing, work, holydays, punishments of slaves, that public sentiment exercises its super- vision and restraint. It looks to the whole range of their happiness and improvement. It is operating with great force in inducing masters to provide more extended fecilities for their religious instruction. It has to a large extent terminated that disruption of family ties, which has always constituted the most serious obstacle to the improvement of the slave, and the severest hardship of his lot. A Scotch weaver, William Thompson, who travelled through our Southern States in 184-3, on foot, sustaining himself by manual labour, and mixing constantly with our slave population, states in a book which he published on his return home, that the separation of families did not take place here to such an extent as amongst the la- bouring* poor of Scotland. We know that the evil has been diminishing with every succeeding day, and I trust that public sen- timent will not leave this most beneficent work half dime. The sanctity and integrity of the family union is the germ of all civ- ilization. There is nothing in slavery to makQ its violation inevitable. It may re- quire some time and sacrifice to accommo- date the habits of society to the universal prevalence of a permanent tenure in these relations. But through the agency of pub- lic sentiment alone, acting upon buyer and seller, and operating where necessary through combinations of benevolent neighbours, the mischief in its entire dimensions lies within the grasp of remedy. Slavery is charged with fixing a point in the scale of civilization, beyond which it does not permit the labmirer to rise. God, it is argued, has conferred the capacity and imposed the duty of improvement, but man forever denies the opportunity. I admit that the refining, elevating, and liberalizing influences of knowledge can not be impart- ed to the slave, in an equal degree with his master. But this arises from the fact that he is a labourer, not that he is a slave. It proceeds from a combination of circumstan- ces which human laws could not alter, and which render daily toil the unavoidable por- tion of the black man. Civilization is a complex result, demanding a multitude of special offices and functions, for whose per- formance men are fitted, and even reconcil- ed by gradations in intelligence and culture. However exalting or ennobling might be the knowledge of Newton or Herschell, God in his providence has denied to the larger part of the human family, the oppor- tunity of obtaining it. The apparent hard- ship of this arrangement disappears when we reflect that this life is only a school of discipline and probation for another, and that a A'ariety of condition involving dis- tinct spheres of duty, may be the wisest and most merciful provision for each. Every age rises to a higher level of general intelligence, but the mass of men must be satisfied with that prime wisdom, " to know that before us lies in daily life." Whilst I doubt not that, '■ Through the ages one increasing purpose runs. And the thoughts of men arc widened with the circuit of the suns," yet SO long as the Divine ordinance, the poor ye have always with you, remains un- repealed— an ordinance without which the fruits of industry would be consumed, and its accumulations cease, the classes of soci- ety must be divided by a broad line of dis- parity in intellectual culture. Emancipa- tion would not relieve the slave I'roni the necessities of daily labour, or furnish the leisure for extending mental cultivation. There might be individual exceptions ; but all legislation must take its rule from the general course of human nature, not its ac- cidental departures and variations. It is emancipation and not servitude, which would forever darken and extinguish those prospects of amelioration that now lie im- aged in the bright perspective of Christian hope. The slave will partake more and more of tlie life-giving civilization of the master. As it is, his intimate relations with the superior race, and the unsystematic in- .struction he receives in the family, have placed him in point of general intelligence above a large portion of the white labourers of Europe. It appears from the most re- cent statistics, that one half the adult pop- 40 THE SOUTHERN PLANTER. [January ulation of England and Wales are unable to write their names. It was of English labourers, not American slaves, that Gray wrote those touching line.s — " But knowledge to their eyes lier ample page, Rich with tlie spoils of time, di'.l ne'er unroll; Chill penury repressed their noble rage. And froze the genial current of the soul." But it is supposed that our slaves can never be instructed without danger to the public safety, as knowledge, like the admis- sion of light into a subterranean mine, might lead to an explosion. There may be circumstances in which the supreme law of self-preservation will command us to with- ' hold from the slave the degree of informa-J tion we would gladly impart. But it is never to be forgotten, that this stern and inexorable necessity will not be created by the system itself. The sin, and the respon-' sibility of its existence will lie at the door of the misjudging philanthropy which has rashly and ignorantly interposed to adjust relations on who.?e balance hang great issues ' of liberty and civilization. If the views' which have been presented are true, the ' more his reason was instructed, the clearer would be the slave's perception of the gene- ' ral equity of the arrangement which fixed his lot. But if knowledge is to introduce him to literature which will confuse his un- derstanding by its sophistry, whilst it in- flames his passions by its appeals, which will exaggerate his rights and magnify his wrongs, then mercy to the slave, as well as justice to society, require us to protect him from the folly and crime into which he might be hurried by the madness of moral intoxication. We will not throw open our gates, that the enemies of peace may sow the dragon's teeth of discord, and leave us to reap a harvest of confusion and rebel- lion— but when they come to plant love amongst us, to teach apostolic precepts, as elementary morality, and to hold up the standard of Holy Scripture as the rule of conduct, and proof of law, we will give them hospitable welcome. If I have at all comprehended the ele- ments which should enter into the determi- nation of the momentous problem of social welfare and public authority, the existence of African Slavery amongst us, furnishes no just occasion for self-reproach; much less for the presumptuous rebuke of our fellow man. As individuals, we have cause to humble ourselves before God, for the imper-J feet discharge of our duties in this, and in every other relation of life : but for its justice and morality as an element of our social polit}'', we may confidently appeal to those future ages, which, when the bedim- ming mists of passion and prejudice have vanished, will examine it in the pure light of truth, and pronounce the final sentence of impartial History. Beyond our borders, there has been no sober and intelligent estimate of its distinctive features; no just apprehension of the nature, extent and per- manence of the disparities between the races, or of the fatal consequences to the slave, of a freedom which would expose him to the unchecked selfishness of a superior civilization ; no conception approaching to the realit}" of the power which has been exerted by a public sentiment, springing from Christian principle, and sustained by the universal instincts o:^ self-interest, in tempering the severity of its restraints, and impressing upon it the mild character of a patriarchal relation; no rational anticipation of the improvement of " which the negro would be capable under our form of servi- tude, if those who now nurse the wild and mischievous dream of peaceful emancipa- tion, should lend all their energies to the maintenance of the only .social system under which his progressive amelioration appears possible. African slavery is no relic of barbarism to which we cling from the ascendency of semi-civilized tastes, habits, and principles ; but an adju.stment of the social and political relations of the races, consistent with the purest justice, commen- ded by the highest expediency, and .sanc- tioned by a comprehensive and enlightened humanity. It has no doubt been sometimes abused by the base and wicked passions of our fallen nature to purposes of cruelty and wrong; but where is the school of civiliza- tion from which the stern and wholesome discipline of suffering has been banished ? or the human landscape not saddened by a dark-flowing stream of sorrow ? Its history when fairly written, will be its ample vindi- cation. It has weaned a race of savages from superstition and idolatry, imparted to them a general knowledge of the precepts of the true religion, implanted in their bosom sentiments of humanity and princi- ples of virtue, developed a taste for the arts and enjoyments of civilized life, given an unknown dignity and elevation to their type of physical, moral and intellectual man, and 1859.] THE SOUTHERN PLANTER. 41 for two centuries during which this liunian- izing process has taken phice, made for their subsistence and comfort, a more bountiful provision, than was ever before enjoyed in any age or country of the world by a hibor- ing class. If tried by the test which we apply to other institutions, the whole sum of its results, there is no agency of civilization which has accomplished so much in the same time, for the happiness and advance- ment of our race. I am fully persuaded, Mr. President, that the preservation of our peace and union, our propert^' and liberty depend upon the tri- umph of these opinions over the delusion and ignorance which have obscured and perplexed the public judgment upon this question of slavery. I believe that they indicate the only tenable line of argument along which we can defend our rights or character. So long as men regard all forms of slavery as sinful, they will be conducted to the conclusion that any aid or comfort to them, is likewise sinful, by a logical neces- sity, which their passions or interests can only resist for a time. The conviction that justice is the highest expediency for the statesman, the first duty of the Christian, and should be supreme law of the State, will sooner or later establish its supremacy over ;>.ll combinations of parties and inter- ests. So long as our fellow-citizens of the North look upon this relation as barbarous and corrupting, they must and ought to de- sire and seek its extinction, as a great vice and crime. Every year will deepen their sympathy with the slave, sufi'ering under unjust bonds, and inflame their resentful indignation towards the master who holds his odious property with unrelaxing grasp. Mutual self-respect is the only term of association upon which either individuals or societies can or ought to live together. How long could our Union endure, if it was to be preserved by submission to a fixed policy of injustice, and acquiescence under an accumulating burthen of reproach ? We arc willing to give much for TTnion. We will give territory for it; the broad. acres we have already surrendered would make an empire. We will give blood for it ; we have shed it freely upon every field of our country's danger and renown.- We will give love for it ; the confiding, the forgiving, the overflowing love of brothers and freemen. But much as we value it, we will not pur- chase it at the price of liberty or character. A union of suspicion, aversion, injustice, in which we would be banned not blessed, out- lawed not protected, whether by faction under the forms of law or revolution over them I care not, has no charms for me. The Union I love, is that which our fathers formed ; a Union which, when it took its place upon the majestic theatre of history, consecrated by the benedictions of patriots and freemen, and covered all over with images of fame, was a fellowship of equal and fraternal States; a Union which was established not only as a bond of strength, but as a pledge of justice and a sacrament of afi"ection ; a Union Avhich was intended, like the arch of the heavens, to embrace within the span of its beneficent influence all interests and sections and to rest oppres- sively or unequally upon none ; a Union in which the North and the South — " like the double-celled heart, at every full stroke," beat the pulses of a common liberty and a common glory. Mr. Madison has recorded a beautiful incident, which occurring as the members of the Federal Convention were attaching their signatures to the Constitu- tion, forms a fitting and significant close to its proceedings. Dr. Franklin pointing to the painting of a sun which hung behind the speaker's chair, and adverting to a diffi- culty which is said to exist in discriminating between the picture of a rising and a set- ting sun, remarked that during the progress of their deliberations, he had often looked at this painting and been doubtful as to its character, but that he now saw clearly that it was a rising siui. When the fancy of Franklin gave to the painting its auroral hues, she had dipped her pencil in his heart. Let but a healing conviction of the true character of our system of slavery enter into the public sentiment of the North ; let it understand that the South is seeking to discharge, not simply the obliga- tions of justice, but the larger debt of Christian humanity towards this degraded race; and that if it has not accouq)lished more, it is because its people, like the work- men upon Solomon's temple, have been compelled to labour on their social fabric with the trowel in one hand, and the sword in the other : and the old feelings of mutual regard would soon follow a mutual respect resting upon' immovable foundations; the animosities and dis.scntions of the past would be buried in the duties of the Present and the Hopes of the Future ; the 42 THE SOUTHERN PLAXTEE. [January memories of our great heroic age T^-ould f breathe over us a second spring of patri- otism : the comprehensive American senti- , mcnt which framed this league of love •would revive in all its quickening power, in ' the bosoms of our people, spreading undi- j vided over every portion of our territory, ! and operating unspent through all genera- tions of our history ; the Union would be so clasped in the Xorth, and in the South, to our heart of hearts, that death itself could not tear loose the clinging tendrils of devotion ; and that emblematic painting in which our fathers, with '•' no form nor feeling in their souls, unborrowed from their coun- ; try," greeted with patriot prayer ajjd hope, the rising beams of morning, wotild never by any line of lessening light, betoken to the eyes of their children a parting radiance. I have an abiding faith in Time, Truth and Providence. Let but the educated mind of our society be fully awakened to the magnitude of its responsibilities, and thoroughly instructed in the duties of its mission : let it meet the falsifications of his- tory, and perversions of philosophy, and corruptions of religion, in the varied forms of wise and temperate discussions ; let it catch the spirit of Milton, when he was content to lose his sight in writing for the defence of the liberties of England, and in- spired by yet deeper enthusiasm in a cause upon which may depend the liberties and civilization of the whole earth, now in com- mon peril from a universal licentiousness of opinion, unseal all its fountains of wit, elo- quence and logic ; and there would soon set out from our Southern coast, a great moral Gulf Stream, able to penetrate and warm all j currents of opposing thought — although they , come in strength and volume of ocean j tides. Note. — This Address at the time of its de- , livery had not been entirely committed to ■«'ri , ting. The author has sometimes found it im- possible to recall the exact language which was ' then employed. He has. also, afier conference : with some members of the Executive Commit- 1 tee of the State Agricultural Society, added an occasional statement and illustration, which the limits of the oral discourse obliged him to omit. \ At the close of the Annual Address, the President called Mr. Edmunds, first Yice President, to the Chair. Mr. Xewton then moved the following resolution, which was unanimously adopted : Resolved, That the thanks of the Virginia State Agricultural Society be tendered to Professor Holcombe for the very able, elo- quent and philosophical discourse which he has just delivered, and that a copy be re- quested for publication in all the journals of the Commonwealth, the Agricultural pa- pers, and in the transactions of the Society. The Chairman of the Meeting. Mr. Ed- munds, stated that the Executive Committee had duly considered the subject of the prac- ticability of uniting the two Societies, re- ferred to them by resolution of the*meeting of the 3rd instant ; and that a report was in the hands of the Secretary to be now read to the meeting, if it should be their pleasure to hear it. The resolution of the 3rd instant was then read, after which the following minute, which had been adopted by the Executive Committee on the motion of Mr. Edmunds, was submitted to this meeting as their report : '• The Executive Committee of the State Agricultural Society having had under con- sideration the resolution of the State Society passed in general meeting on the 3rd instant, and having conferred with the Executive Committee of the Union Agricultural So- ciety on the grave and important subject embraced in the resolution — ^be^ leave to report unanimously, that, in the absence of a number of the members of the Commit- tee, and in view of the deep importance of the subject, they deem it inexpedient to re- port prior to the next meeting of the Far- mers' Assembly, upon which body the Con- stitution devolves the final decision." Mr. Cox, of Chesterfield, moved the fol- lowing resolution : Resolved, That the report just presented be referred to a Committee of five, who shall have leave to retire, consider the same, and report immediately to this body, recom- mending such action as they may deem it pro- per and expedient for this meeting to adopt. Mr. Branch proposed as a substitute the following resolution, which was accepted by the mover, and adopted by the meeting : * Resolved, That the report of the Execu- tive Committee be recommitted, with in- structions to hold further conference with the Executive Committee of the Union Ag- ricultural Society during the time interve- ning, and that they report to the next meet- ing of the Farmers' Assembly on the prac- ticabiUty of a permanent union of the two 1859.] THE SOUTHERN PLANTER. 43 Societies, and also the terms of such union, if found practicable. The meeting then adjourned. Friday Evening, Nov. 5th*, 1858. The members of the Union Society of Virginia and North Carolina, and of the Virginia State Agricultural Society, con- vened in joint meeting at the Market Street Baptist Church to hear the Valedictory Ad- j dress. Ex-President Tyler was escorted to the stand by a Committee of the two Socie- i ties, and was greeted with enthusiastic dem- 1 onstrations of respect, due to the venerable j statesman, who, after life-long devotion of j himself to the service of his country, has so j gracefully exchanged the sword of authority i for the ploughshare and the pruning-hook, | and surrendered the robes and the tenure j of office for the simple vesture and the dig- 1 nified retirement of the citizen Farmer. He j then proceeded to deliver the following- Valedictory : 3Ir. President and Gentlemen : My task is readily accomplished. I am here to congratulate you on the continued success of the Society which bears the name of our time-honoured Commonwealth, and of that with which it has upon this occasion : united its destinies. That success is strik- ' ingly illustrated by the evidences presented ! on those grounds. The earth, although j parched and dried up by a drought of unu- j sual duration, has nevertheless contributed its cereals, and fruits, and flowers, to embel- lish the scene of your Fair Grounds, while your mines, now in a course of rapid and successful development, have given up spec- imens of their hidden treasures, in proof of vast resources yet to be dug from the bosom of distant mountains. The manufacturer on his part has been no listless spectator of the passing scene. The results of the loom and the spindle — of the ingenious contrivances to mitigate the severity of labour — of im- provements in the mechanic arts — of the numberless machines, apparently instinct with life, so admirably and systematically do they perform their functions — all bespeak that hand and mind are alike at work, and that our fellow-citizens are every where ac- tively engaged in aiding the good part of raising food for the hungry, and clothes for the naked, and in ameliorating the condi- tion of society in all its departments. Here, too, have been exhibited the products of your pastures and fields — in horses match- less for blood and strength — in cattle of the finest form and structure — of sheep admira- ble for flesh and fleece, and of other animals which contribute so essentially to the com- forts and necessities of life ; and here, too, the Dairy and Poultrj'-yard have liberally contributed their stores in order to enrich the scenes. May I not, then, congratulate you on this sixth times repeated success of your patriotic associations. The opinion has extensively prevailed in other States that Virginia had seen her best days ; that her soil, by a long and severe course of tillage, was exhausted, and that her people led a torpid existence, content to pass their lives in dreams of other days, and in the boast of an illustrious ancestry, and in anticipation of a future that can never come to an idle and effeminate race. Bid these mistaken revilers visit the Fair Grounds of the nume- rous Agricultural Societies throughout the State. If this does not answer to dispel the delusion, take them to your several estates throughout the broad surface of the country; point out to them the march of improvement within the period of twenty years; shew them your fields during the season of harvest home, teeming with the golden abundance ; tell them that those fields now producing from twenty to forty fold, were indeed then worn and nearly ex- hausted by a culture of 250 years ; say to them what was truly the case, that our peo- ple had to abandon the lands on which they were born, to flee to others embosomed in the distant wilderness, where ploughman's whistle had never been heard, or woodman's axe had never resounded since the days of the great flood. That in desertino; their old paternal homesteads, where they had passed the days of their infancy and early man- hood, they might well break out in the language of 5lelibeus to Tityrus when forced to leave Italy — "Nos patriLB fines, et dulcia linquinius arva ; Nos patriam fugiiims :" But that now the broom-straw old fields had disappeared — migration had nearly ceased, and that the old homesteads were ample and broad enough to shelter one and all, and the lands restored to more than their primeval fertility. If not yet satis- fied, transport them to regions but recently visited by the steam-engine, and open to their view extensive and fertile districts 44 THE SOUTHERN PLANTER. [January which, until now, have been alien to the world, and almost buried in primeval forests. Tell them that the hum of industry already disturbs the silence which there has ruled supreme, and that in a few years more the voice of activity and life will awaken the one universal echo through mountain and vale. And if still unconvinced, carry the , unbelievers into your workshops and your \ mines. Point out to them the increase of the mechanical arts, and exhibit to them the extent of your mineral treasures — carry them, if no farther, to the banks of the Holstein, and call their attention to a com-, parutively small area of valley and moun- : tain, whose treasures of salt and plaster exceed in value the estimated value of the great and overshadowing city of New York. If, with these evidences of increasing pros- ^ perity, they alter into the ua.sal twang, which I have often heard, of a decline of intellect among us, lead them into an assembly of GUI* farmers, and after having heard their debates, then may we exclaim in an exul- , taut voice, these are our people, and here are the men whose fathers were in the , olden time the leaders of the hosts to the ' land of promise, and are themselves worthy to be their successoi-s — and to finish the : picture, then point them to your wives and ' mothers, leading by their hands their infant < children, to swear upon the altar of the living God eternal enmity, not as Hannibal, the Carthagenian, agiiinst an earthly power, but against immorality and vice in all its forms. Such is Virginia now, and such the symbol of a still greater Virginia that is to be. These make her what she is, the great . conservative State of the Union, and im- part to her a moral influence more important | than is tobe found in numbers, or in an army with banners. Need I do more than point you to the , motto of that glorious flag which floated over our fathers in other days, and has j waved over you on this occasion." Let the motto of each and all be Perseverando. \ And where can that old flag more proudly | float than over that city which, by its_ heroism and its perseverance, has sought, every field on which honor was to be won, | and has glorioasly acquired the title of. the Cockade city of Virginia, " the blessed , mother of us all." I remember well the day when the cry came from the far north- west for aid and succour. Biscumfiture had befallen our arms, and a combined force] pressed upon our* exposed frontiers. Then there stepped forth from the ranks of her citizens, that noble and gallant corps which, with a step firm and determined, entered the wilderness and breasted at Fort Meigs, the wild and furious assaults of Proctor and its hosts. Nor can I quit this theme without expressing your sense, Mr. Presi- dent, and that of those assembled here at the manner of your reception by the citi- zens of this flourishing city upon the present occasion. Petersburg has inter- woven an additional wreath into her cock- ade, and there it floats in all the enticing loveliness of hospitality — unbounded and unlimited. Wear in your heart of hearts gentlemen, that proud old motto, " Perseve- rando. Let no petty local jealousies intro- duce discord into your councils. For men to differ is the inevitiible result of freedom of thought and of speech — let no such differences affect the great and valuable association which you have so successfully organized. It is Virginia that pleads — you Mr. President of the State Agricultural Society, permit me to say, are more than all others interested in this. Through your analysis of soils, I speak what I think, Virginia has been materially aided in being what she is. The existence of the State Agricultural Society is materially due to your labours. Proud and lofty is the monu- ment. Shall we not presence it undefiled and unmutilated ? Bring up your ofi'ering-s to the next annual Fair. Let your wives bring also theirs, and your children theirs. Let the last bring garlands woven of the bright flowers of the forest, and the field, and the garden. They will be fit emblems of t'',u- own purity, and types of their own brightness and beauty. At the close of the address, on motion of the President, Resolved, That the thanks of the Socie- ties be tendered to Ex-President Tyler for the feeling and appropriate manner in which he has addressed the meeting, and that he be requested to furnish a copy of his discourse for publication. The President reminded the Societies that, as the occasion was one of congratula- tion and of leave-taking after having enjoyed a delightful season of re-union and social in- tercourse, while witnessing one of the most successful exhibitions ever held in Airginia, any member present -would be gladly heard 1859.] thp: southern plant eh. 45 who had any remarks to make, deemed ap- propriate to tlic occasion. Messrs. Charles Carter Lee, James A. Seddon and Willon<>liby Newton, each de- livered appropriate addresses in answer to calls made on them by the meeting. And then with the kindest feelings, and with fraternal harmony, the meeting ad- journed. CII. B. WILLIAMS, Scc'^. For the Flnnlcr. Profitable Treatment of an Orchard. A. A. Cam^ihclC s annual contri'hufion to (he Notfowai/ Agricultural Cluh. Mr. Prksident : Early in the month of March LS57, 1 had my apple orchard, containing three and a half acres of land, broken up with a two horse plough, say six or seven inches deep. This lot had been kept for eight years as a grazing lot, during which time a strong Bod of wire and other grasses had formed on it; it was cross-plowed, and the heavy drag immediately passed over it; in which situation it was pei'mitted to remain until the 28th, when the harroM-s were again passed over it, leaving it in fine tilth : the land was in good heart, though not rich. It was then laid off in rows, seven feet apart, with a trowel hoe, and planted in an early variety of corn, brought from the mountains, 2^ feet in the row, two stalks in the hill — and no manure of any kind was used. Be- tween the first and tenth of May, a trowel hoc furrow was run midway between the corn rows, say ol feet from the corn and the land planted in the corn-field peas. This piece of land was selected more with the view of benefitting my orchard than the ex- pectation of receiving a remunerating return for my labour. The subsequent cultivation was with the harrows and two hoe workings, all done in good time. During the last week in July following, I had a three-tooth harrow run between the corn and pea rows; opened a drill with a trowel hoe plough and sowed in the furrows Reese's Manipulated Guano, at the rate of 200 pounds per acre, and immediately fol- lowed on with a well constructed Turnip drill, which deposited the turnip seed to my entirc satisfaction ; at the same time partial- ly incorporating the guano with the loose earth in the drill, by the action of the spout through which the seed pass. The seed were readily covered by an iron tooth gar- den rake and the operation finished, with but little labour. The subsequent cultiva- tion was only one hue working at the time of thinning the turnips, Avhich Avere left in the drill from six to ten inches apart. As soon as the corn began to get out of the milk state, I commenced cutting down and throwing it to my stock hogs, after having stripped off' the blades of as much as would last the hogs three or four days; thus sav- ing a good stack of fodder and giving the turnips more sun and air, and cutting off the draught on the land. My hogs did well on this feed. It is impossible to say what the land would have produced in corn if it had been permitted to stand until matured. I sup- pose it would have produced five or six bar- rels to the acre, my opinion was corrobora- ted by others who saw it. The crop of peas was a beautiful one, supplying a large fami- ly abundantly during the season, with that most wholesome and nutritious vegetable, aud in ftill affording a good supply of seed peas. After gathering the dried peas, the vines were cut off with tobacco knives, cured and stacked for the stock in winter ; they wei'c eaten greedily by cows and sheep. It only remains to say something of the turnip crop. It will be recollected, by the Club, that the last was an unfavorable year in this county for this crop ; the fly and grasshoppers were unusually destructive, not- withstanding which I raised a good crop for the land and season ; most of the turnips were large and well-flavoured. The crop was not measured otherwise than by the cart load; and estimating the cart load at twenty- five bushels, the crop amounted to about 300 bushels ; these were put up in mounds and covered over with corn-stalks and earth, and have been beneficially fed to my stock during the. winter and spring months, — they kept well until the cold spell in March when they rotted badl3^ On the 5th day of October 1857, the land having been previously cleared of the corn and peas — the turnips still remaining on the land — was sowed in wheat, at the rate of 1^ bushels per acre, and 200 pounds of well- mixed and thoroughly incorporated Mexican and Icabo guanos, (done in my own guano- house, under my supervision,) in equal quan- tities by weight, and thoroughly harrowed in. Around and between the turnips the wheat was chopped in with hand hoes. The turnips were gathered by hand in December. The wheat came up evenly and regularly, 46 THE SOUTHERN PLANTER. [Januakt and is at this time (April 27th) a beautiful and promising lot, comparing favorably with mj tobacco lots, from which a fine crop is expected if no casualty befals it. A. A. Campbell. Specific Manures, &c- Experiments hy ^Y. J. Harris, reported to the Nottoicay Cluh. Mr. President : — An analysis of To- bacco by Mr. W. A. Shepard, of Ran- dolph Macon College, which appeared in a late number of the Planter, agrees so well %vith some experiments made by me, that I think it will prove a safe guide in the application of specific manures for To- bacco. Not being able to make as much good farm-yard manure or compost as would be necessary for a crop, I have been com- pelled to make up the deficiency with guano, applied jointly with them, or alone. When guano was used alone, unless the land was very good, the crop always failed to ful- fill what might reasonably have been ex- pected from its early growth. It would start ofi" finely and reach a large size, but as soon as the matui'ing process commenced it be- gun to hum at the bottom, or fire at the top ; or, if it escaped these disasters, it ripened, or rather dried up, thin and poor. It was evident, therefore, that, although the guano could give it size, it could not ripen it properly. As guano contained very little potash, and Tobacco a great deal, and as wood ashes is known to be one of the best manures for Tobacco, it appeared clear to me that potash and lime, when needed, would supply the deficiency. The first experiment I made was on a piece of thin, worn-out land, on which I applied a dressing of oak leaves and lime, saltpetre and guano. The oak leaves and lime were applied about two months before the saltpetre and guano. The result was, that I believe I got a better crop than from an ordinary dressing of stable manure. The next experiment was made with saltpetre and salt, and a small quantity of leached ashes — broadcast, and* guano in the drill, which made the richest and heaviest To- bacco I ever made from any application. The land on which this was made was a stifi" red clay, and probably contained a sufficient quantity of liiie. The first was a very poor sandy soil. Mr. Shepard's analysis shows a very large quantity of potash and lime in both the^ dried leaf and stalk, — as much as 6 pounds to the 100 pounds ; so that an acre of land, to produce 1000 pounds of leaf and 200 pounds of stalk, would have to supply 72 pounds of potash and 72 pounds of lime, — the two making two-thirds of the inor- ganic elements of the plant. Salt is no doubt very beneficial as the analysis shows a large per cent, of chlorine and soda. Without being guided by an analysis I had, in the above mixture, every- thing of importance the analysis calls for. The guano furnished the nitrogen and phosphoric acid to give the growth — the ashes and saltpetre to furnish pota.?h, and salt the chlorine and soda. From the very large proportion of potash and lime in a well matured leaf and stalk of Tobacco, I think it very probable that a deficiency of these alkalies prevents a proper maturing of the leaf, and brings on burning, fire and starvation — (to both leaf and planter.) Saltpetre, 30 to 40 lbs., Ashes, quantum habet, I -p Salt, 2 bushels, ^^^"^ Guano, 200 lbs.. Respectfully submitted. WM. J. HARRIS. acre. Experiments with Peruvian and Colum- bian Guano, both Separate and Mixed. Report of W. R. Bland to the Nottou-ay Cluh. I last fall, about the 12th of October, sowed one and a half acres of land in wheat, dressed with 250 pounds of Colum- bian guano, at a cost of 35 62 j, one acre and a half dressed with 212 pounds Pe- ruvian guano at a cost of $5 72, and six acres dressed with a mixture of the two guanos, 550 pounds Columbian and 370 pounds Peruvian, at a cost of 822 37. The acre and a half dressed with Columbian guano produced five shocks wheat, estimated at two bushels per shock, giving ten bushels, or six and two-third bushels per acre, cost §5 62, product at 81 50 per bushel 815 00, profit 89 37; profit per acre 86 25. The acre and a half dressed with Peruvian guano produced five shocks wheat, estimated at three bushels per shock, gives fifteen bushels, or ten bushels per acre ; cost of guano 85 72, 15 bushels wheat, at 81 50, 822 50, profit $16 78, or a profit of 811 18f per acre. The six 1858.] THE SOUTHERN PLANTER. 47 acres dressed with a mixture of the two guanos, at a cost of ??22 37, produced tweu- ty-four shocks, which, at three bushels per shock, gives seventy-two bushels, which, at n 50, gives ^108; profit $85 63, or a profit of S14 40 f per acre. The three sections of land were of as nearly equal fertility as I could well get, all very poor. If there was any difference, the land on which the separate applications were made was rather the best. The wheat was, I believe, all sown the same day. WM. R. BLAND. Juli/ 9t7i, 1857. Comparative Experiment with Peruvian Guano and Reese's Manipulated Guano. Reported to the Nottoway Club hy T. F. Epes. On my tobacco lot last j^ear, I tried Pe- ruvian guano on one half, and Reese's Ma- nipulated Guano on the other. That on which the Peruvian guano was applied grew off best. It was topped at ten and twelve leaves. The other was topped at ten and eight. It was most leafy and ripened thicker. Whether attributable to the lower topping or Manipulated Guano I don't know. T. F. EPES. May, 1858. Experiments to Substitute Peruvian Guano (in part) on the Wheat Crop. Report of Travis H. Epes to the Nottaicay Chib. Last fall, Peruvian guano being high, I used 100 pounds of it to the acre on wheat mixed with 50 pounds of Mexican and 50 of Jordan's Superphosphate of Lime. All of the wheat that was seeded be- fore the heavy rain of the first of Novem- ber looks very well, and is as good (ex- cept being a little too thin) as when the same land was in wheat, with 200 pounds of Peruvian guano to the acre. That seeded after the rain looks well and healthy also, and the whole crop is said by many farmers to be the best they have seen. Respectfully submitted. TRAVIS H. EPES. Those who are in the power of evil habits mast conquer them as they can ; and con- quered they must be, or neither wisdom nor happiness can be attained. — Johnson. Toilet Soap. Take 6 lbs. White soap, IJ lbs. Sal Soda, 1 table-spoojiful Spirits Turpentine, 2 '' Hartshorn, I2 gallons of water. JELLY SOAP. 24 ozs. water, or 1 2 pints, 1 oz. Shaving Soap, . I5 ozs Carb. Soda, 10 grains Pulv. Borax, 5 " " Ammonia, ^ I5 drachms Spirits Turpentine. Boil the water and mix the materials well. The above recipe is taken from an old newspaper, and it is thought to be identical with the celebrated Roraback recipe which is offered for sale all over the country.* It is said the Roraback Soap yields upon analy- sis nearly 40 per cent, of tallow. This agrees very weH with the above recipe, for the common White Soap yields 70 per cent, of tallow. The usual colouring matter of soap, is Vermillion. Scheele. [^Indej^endent Blade. Mr. Editor : — You will confer a favour upon one of the readers of the Journal, by publishing the above. By a perusal of it, the Rorabacks can ascertain whether they have been sold or not. It may or may not be correct, but it will do no harm to put people on their guard. Every eight or ten years a sort of soap paroxism convulses the . country. Washing made easy, and soap made cheaper than Paddy's brooms, are all the go. All the scientific skill of chemis- try has long since been spent upon this vex- ed question, and soap is still nothing more than the union of an oil and an alkali — call it what you may. The firm white soaps jyfe chiefly made of the olive oil and carbonate soda, common salt being added to promote the granulation and perfect separation of the soap. It is marbled by stirring in a solu- tion of sulp. iron. Common household soaps are made mainly of soda and tallow ; or if potash is used, salt is added to harden it. Yellow soap is made by the addition of rosin. Common soft soap is made from potash and any oily substance, or a strong lye made from ashes and any animal oil — the lye is much improved by the addition of • It is not.— Ed. F. & P. 48 THE SOUTHERN PLANTER. [January lime to the ash hopper — ^but soap, made as it may be, must consist of an oil and an al- ' kali. ' A considerable stir has been made lately in New York, by developement uf the fact in the Supreme Court, that the '• Balm of a Thousand Flowers" was nothing but good soap; that it was compounded of greese, lye, sugar and alcohol, dignified , with the name of palm oil, potash, &c. j Certainly it must be a money-making bu- 1 siness — -ten dollars a gallon for an article which can -be manufactured for six cents a i gallon. So much for a fancy name. " Old ; women," save your soap grease — ftincy de- \ tergcnts are looking up. Give a big name, j Call it Mirangipania Humbugifolia, and ad-1 vertise lUOU certificates from the afflicted, j and your fortune is made. j But talking of soapsuds — take one gallon i of water, pound of washing soda, and a; quarter of a pound of unslacked lime, put j them in water and simmer twenty minutes ; j when cool, pour ofi the clear fluid into glass j or stone ware, (it will ruin earthenware.) Put your clothes in, soak over night, wring } them out in the morning, and put them into the wash kettle, with enough water to cover them. To a common sized kettle put a tea-cup full of the fluid ; boil half an hour, then wash well through one suds, and linse thoroughly in two waters, and if you don't give up you are paid for your trouble, I'm mistaken. — Ind'fjjcndcnt Blade. A Fair and Happy Milkmaid Is a country wench, that is so far from making herself beautiful by art, that one look of her is able to put all face-physic out of countenance. She knows a fair look is but a dumb orator to conmiend virtue, tUere'fore minds it not. All her excellen- cies stand in her so silently, as if they had stolen upon her without her knowledge. The lining of her apparel, which is herself, is far better than outsides of tissue ; for though she be not aurayed in the spoil of the silkworm, she is decked in innocence, a far better wearing. She doth not, with lying long in bed, spoil both her complexion and conditions : nature hath taught her, too, immoderate sleep is rust to the soul ; she rises therefore with Chanticlere, her dame's cock, and at night makes the lamb her curfew. In milking a cow, and strian- ing the teats through her fingers, it seems that so sweet a milk-press makes the milk whiter or sweeter; for never came almond- gore or aromatic ointment on her paliii to taint it. The gold?n ears of corn fall and kiss her feet when she reaps them, as if they wished to be bound and lead prisoners by the same hand that felled them. Her breath is her own, which scents all the year long of June, like a new-made hay-cock. She makes her hand hard with labour, and her heart soft with pity ; and when winter evenings fall early, sitting at her merry wheel, she sings defiance to the gidd}' wheel of fortune. She doth all things with so sweet a grace, it seems ignorance will not suflTer her to do ill, being her mind is to do well. She bestows her year's wages at next fair, and in choosing her garments, counts no bravery in the world like decency. The garden and bee-hive are all her physic and surgery, and she lives the longer for it. She dares go alone and unfold sheep in the night, and fears no manner of ill, because she means none ; yet to say truth, she is never alone, but is still accompanied with old songs, honest thoughts, and prayers, but short ones ; yet they have their efficacy, in that they are palled with ensuing idle cogi- tations. Lastly, her dreams are so chaste, that she dare tell them ; only a Friday's dream is all her superstition ; that she con- ceals for fear of anger. Thus lives she, and all her care is, she may die in the spring-time, to have store of flowers stuck upon her winding-sheet. — Ovcrhury. Benevolence. When thou considerest thy wants, when thou beholdest thy imperfections, acknow- ledge his goodness, 0 Man ! who honoured thee with reason, endowed thee with speech, and placed thee in society to receive and confer reciprocal helps and mutual obliga- tions. Thy food, thy clothing, thy convenience of habitation, thy protection from the inju- ries, thy enjoyment of the comforts and the pleasures of life, thou owest to the as- sistance of others, and couldest not enjoy but in the bands of society. It is thy duty, therefore, to be friendly to mankind, as it is thy interest that men should be friendly to thee. As the rose breatheth sweetness from its own nature, so the heart of a benevolent man produceth good works. — Doddcy. 1859.] THE SOUTHERN PLANTER. 49 i>:^5^.c^ SILESIAN EWES. The above engravinf; represents a grouj^ of Silesian Ewes, exhibited at the late State Fair at Petersburg, by S. S. Bradford, Esq., of Culpeper. Mr. B. has lately purchased largely of this variety of fine wool sheep from the cel- ebrated flocks of George Campbell of Ver- mont, and William Chamberlain of New York. These gentlemen, by careful breed- ing and judicious management, have now,' it is said, as pure blooded fl(X-ks as are to be found in this country. Indeed, such is their high character for purity, that orders are annually received by their owners from Ohio, Pennsyh-ania, Kentucky, Michigan, Califor-j nia, Texas, and even from Buenos Ayres. These sheep are hardy and easily kept, ' producing short wool, but of very fine sta-l pie, which is highly valued by the manufac- 1 turer. , j This group attracted great admiration at the Fair, and were considered equal to any| specimen of fine wools ever exhibited in Virginia. The introduction of wool-growing in East- ern Virginia has been but partial, and the experiments in sheep-husbandry not always satisfactory. The fine wool shcop introduced have been chiefly of the >Suxou variety, for not He which, while distinguished for their fineness of fleece, have been liable to the sti'ong ob- jection of weak constitutions, and the un- i usual mortality consequent upon that infirmi- ty, heightened by the neglect which too gen- erally prevailed of allowing them indifi'erent ■ and insixfficient food, and leaving them ex- posed to the inclemency of winter without ■ the protection of any kind of shelter. Of ' course they were unprofitable, both "flesh and fleece." Mr. Bradford was discoiu-aged by these disadvantages, resolved to persevere in his efforts to improvg the character of his flock, giving special at- tention to those points in which he saw its deficiencies. He believed that a hardier race might be produced, which, by proper attention, would repay the expense of their keep, even upon a much more liberal scale of expenditure than had yet been essayed. In pursuance of these views he sent to Germany and pi'ocured a regularly discip- lined and experienced shepherd. He pur- chased of Mr. Campbell and other good flock masters in Vermont, some pure blooded Spanish Merinos, brought them to Virginia and gave them good feed and shelter and capful attention. Very soon the improve- ment both of his flock and of his farm, be- 50 THE SOUTHERN PLANTER. [Januakt gan to attract tlie attention of his neighbors, ' and Mr. Bradford found himself in receij)t ! of a handsome income from the produce of his flock. j When some years ago he introduced sheep , upon his farm, Mr. B. says it was in a very I exhausted, naked, and unproductive condi- ' tion; now his pastures are thickly coated' with fine sward, and his cultivated fields | yield him more wheat and corn than when ; the whole farm was appropriated to the pro- duction of these cereals. Although his land has been greatly enhanced in value by tho- rough under-drainage of all the low grounds, by very deep ploughing and a general sys- tem of good culture, yet, he thinks his flock ' of sheep has enabled him to increase the ' general productiveness of his farm much j more rapidly than he could possibly have done by any other system. Mr. B. has good warm, dry shelters for his sheep; during winter they are every night and morning fed under these, in racks and troughs, so con- structed as to prevent any considerable loss of hay and other food. These sheds are kept well littered with straw, leaves or other coarse material most easily obtained, and once or twice a week are dusted with plas- ter, and occasionally with a sprinkling of crushed bones, which greatly improves the value of the manure. During summer the sheep are housed of cold wet nights, and at any time while raining, and never turned out to grass of mornings until the dew is ofi" the grass, — eating of dewy or frozen grass, and exposure to wet weather, being consider- ed injiu-ious to their health. In all good wea- ther of summer, his sheep sleep out on the fields in light, portable hurdles. During this season, his shepherd, with his dog and gun, sleeps by the flock in a small house on wheels, which by means of a yoke of steers, is moved along with the sheep fold, and en- ables him perfectly to protect the sheep against the trespasses of dogs and thieves. As soon as the oat crop is removed, the flock is turned on the stubble to sleep, se- lecting the thinnest portions, until it is all ploughed and seeded down in wheat — dur- ing this period of between two and three months, a flock of 1,000 sheep, will sleep over some 2-5 or 30 acres, and will fertilize them as well, Mr. B. thinks, for the produc- tion of the wheat crop, as an application of 200 pounds guano per acre, and much bet- ter and more permanently for the ensuifig grass crop. Under this system, it is obvious that wool-growing can not be unprofitable. The average yield of his flock, Mr. B. .says, is from 4 J to 5 pounds of washed wool, which usually finds ready sale at about 50 cents per pound. In the old wool-growing States, where sheep receive proper attention, and the ut- most care and judgment are exercised in selection and breeding, there are choice flocks which yield annually an average of 6 pounds, and a few as high as 7 pounds of washed wool. In endeavoring to obtain as large a yield I of wool as is practicable, regard must be had to good condition as well as to blood — 'for sheep, like other animals, other things , being equal, remunerate their owners in pro- ' portion to the care bestowed upon them ; ■ wool will not grow while the animal has food , sufficient only to keep it in a breathing con- dition— the demands of vitality must first be I supplied, and it is only by increasing the food beyond this point that we can hope to realize a profit from wool or flesh ; even in the pure Merino of . diflferent folds, the I amount of wool would vary considerably, ac- cordingly as they had been well or badly kept and bred in years past. The propor- tion, too, of lambs reared, varies greatly in diflferent years, under difi'erent treatment. Mortality amongst them is frequently very great when neglected in cold wet seasons j the ordinary loss is perhaps as high as 15 or 20 per cent ; but this can be greatly reduced by a provision of wholesome and nutritious food and warm dry shelters, with careful at- tention during lambing season. There is no reason in nature, Mr. B. thinks, why there should be a greater mortality with them than with calves and pigs, and one explanation of ordinai-y mortality may usually be found in the neglect or mismanagement of the breed- er. It is a law of nature that animals re- quire nutrition in proportion to their natu- ral weight of carcass, but no animal known to the economy of our agriculture can be maintained with so much ease and so little expense as the Merino sheep ; nor is there any in which there is so little waste and so little loss. They will thrive on tracts where neat cattle would starve. Bushes, briars, I and coarse herbage, which infest our lands, are extirpated by them, and white clover, [blue grass and green sward rapidly intro- duced. The continued pressure of their feet consolidates without penetrating the earth, and the uniform dropping of their 1859.] THE SOUTHERN PLANTER. 61 liquid and solid excrements over its surface maintains the land in constant progression in fertility and value. The extent of profit to be derived from wool-growing depends much, of course, upon the scale in the prices of wool, as well as the kind of sheep and the condition in which they are kept ; but our observation satisfies us that even at the present comparatively low prices, few occu- pations can be more remunerative or attrac- tive to the farmer than raising fine wool and sheep. For the Soulhcrn Planter. Facts for the Curious ; or Remarkable Peculiarities of Four Cows. I have intended, Jlr. Editor, for some time, to make public, through your columns, the remarkable facts which have occurred, under my own observation, in relation to four cows, the history of which I am about to narrate. Some of these facts are so strange, as almost to overleap the bounds of credibility, yet I shall give them, under the sanction of my own name, and hold myself respojisible for their truth. As truth is sometimes stranger than fiction, it only proves that the silent workings of Provi- dence are often far beyond the utmost con- trivings of man. But to the facts proposed. Some years ago, I had a very good milch cow, of the scrub breed, who.se constant habit it was, to give milk literally, from calf to calf, with- out cessation. On one occasion, I remem- ber distinctly, to have seen her give good, u-hite milky at night, and in the morning en- suing, she had a calf; and so continued on.j One striking effect of this habit of hers was, ' that her calves were always small and poor. ' But independent of that, I esteemed her very much, for she was always " Charley at the rack." So much for the first fact. Now! for the second. Some few years ago, I had' a Short Horn Durham cow, that aft«r hav-' ing a calf or two, appeared to be with calf again ; and observing one evening when the ; cattle were penned, that she was suffering! very mucli from the great distention of her! udder, I very naturally supposed that she had calved, and had hid the calf in the pas-j turc ; and had been driven up without it. — In the morning, I directed a servant to drive her to the pasture, and bring her back, with the calf. He drove her to the pasture as directed, but after a while returned, saying that the cow showed no disposition to go to the calf; that he had searched the field, but could find none. I directed him to take the dogs to the field and set them after her, knowing, that instinct, would cause her to run directly to the calf, if it was hid. He returned again however, with no better suc- cess thfin before. I then had the cow milk- ed, supposing that she had lost the calf by some casualty; and that in a short time I should see the buzzards after it. I watched for some days, but saw no sign of the sup- posed lost calf. Well, here was a mystery I could not solve, so I pocketed it, but had ' no satisfactory solution of it until the expi- ration of five years; and here it is. The cow gave her usual quantity of milk for 18 months, (which is the usual time all my cows milk between their calves,) when she was turned dry to calve again. This she did in due time, bearing a female calf, which I now own. At three years old, this calf, now a heifer, also appeared to be with calf; but when the time came to calve, she also had none. So I was compelled to have her milked, to keep her bag from spoiling. This brought back fresh to my memory the conduct of her mother, but only tended to increase the mystery. For, although I have a great fond- ness for stock, and have read every thing that I could lay my hand on, publi.shed either in this country or Europe, I had never seen, heard, nor read of a cow that had come to her milk, but from having a calf, or some other exciting cause. So I stuck a peg there, and determined, if I ever had anoth- er opportunity of observing, to put the mat- ter beyond all cavil. In due course of time she was bulled, and again appeared to be pregnant. On closely observing my other cattle, I found another heifer that I thought would calve about the same time, so I had them turned into my yard to keep each other company, in their state of family solicitude, where I might have a full opportunity of watching the denouement. In due time the other hciter had a calf, but still the inexpU- cahh held on, until it became apparent that her bag would certainly spoil unless I had her milked, which was accordingly done. — Not until then was the mystery entirely solved. I had read of cases in the medical books, of women having false conceptions, and passing what is called a mole; but this cow had no appearance of having pass- ed any thing of that sort. So much for the third fi^ct. 52 THE SOUTHERN PLANTER. [January And now for the fourth. Some years ago, I happened in Lynchburg, Ya., and on meeting with my old friend, 3Ir. John M. Warrick, we soon got into a conversation on the subject of improved stock ; and at his request, I rode out with him to his farm, to see his herd of Durhams. After pointing out to me several fine animals, he called my attention to a pair of twin heifers, then about two years old, with very large udders. I asked him if they had not been bulled ; he said they had not. I remarked to him that they evidently had milk in their bags, and requested him to have one of them driven to his lot in town and regularly milked, which he readi- ly promised to do. He asked me if I had ever known a heifer to give milk under sim- ilar circumstances. I replied I had not, but that I once had a yearling heifer that was kept in my orchard, with some young calves, and one of them brought her to her milk by repeatedly sucking her, and I had some where read of a case of an old grandmother who had not borne a child for many years, having been brought to her milk again by taking a motherless child to sleep with her, and giving it the breast to keep it quiet. The next time I saw Mr. Warrick, he in- formed me that he had the heifer milked for some time, and finally wishing to breed from her, he had turned her dry. While upon the subject of cows, it may be proper that I should give some explana- tion of an incidental remark I made in the first part of this communication — which was that all my cows milked about eighteen months between their calves. Some thirty years ago, I observed that my cows that had annual calves were not worth half as much at the pail as those that intermitted a year. So I determined to correct it, by killing ofi" and selling all the annual breeders. So that now, and for many years past, I have had no cows in my herd of that description. — This, in part, gave rise to another practice of mine, which is different from my neigh- bours. It is this : I always have cows at the pail, (whose calves had been weaned,) to give milk at night. This makes it con- venient and profitable, to let the young calves run with their mothers in the day, and take all the milk in the morning. By this method, the cows and calves are kept quiet all day. I get as much milk, and the calves grow ofi" more thriftily, and are con- sequently much better prepared to stand the first winter. It always distressed me to ride by a house on a long summer day. and find the cows loicing at the fence, and the poor little calves on the other side, in feebler ac- cents, proclaiming the crueltv of their own- ers. R. J. GALXES. Charlotte County, Dec. 21, 1858. P. S. — At some future time, Mr. Edi- tor, if I can overcome my great aversion to writing, I should like to give you some ex- periments I have been making, in the im- provement of worn out land, by the repeat- ed applications of guano alone. K. J. G. [We sball feci very much obliged if our es- teemed correspondent ^vill overcome his aver- sion to vA-riting, and will favor our readers with the result of his experience in the important work of reclaiming exhausted lands — a subject of almost universal .interest to the readers of the Planicr. — Editor.] For jhc Souther;} Plamtr. Lard Cured with Soda. Mr. Editor — I find on page 690 of the November number of the Southern Planter, in an article on "Curing Lard with Soda," the following sentence: "To every gallon of lard, before it is washed, put one ounce of sal soda, dissolved in one gil of water; the fat needs no other washing or soaking than that just before being put on to cook." Please let me know what is meant — must the sal soda be put in and then washed out? or must the fat be washed and the soda put with it in the pot. You will oblige more than one of your subscribers by complying with the above re- quest. Respectfully, W. We have seen but one specimen of lard cured b}' the recipe referred to. That was beautifully white, and as nice as it could be. The fat was washed to free it from blood, &c., before it was put on to boil, and the soda was mixed with wa- ter according to the proportions directed by the recipe in our November number, and stirred into the pot of fat only half full, after it was hung over the fire. We suppose that the chief benefit derived from the soda is the neutralization of some one, or all, of the acids probably evolved in the pro- cess of boiling, and of which there are three, viz : margaric, oleic and stearic. Certainly lard cured after this formulary is whiter, and nicer than any other we have ever seen. 1859.] THE SOUTHERN PLANTER. 53 For the Southern Planter. Is the Cultivation of Oats in an Orchard Injurious to Peach Trees? Gloucester, Nov. 29, 1858. Mr. Editor — I am anxious to obtain some information on the subject of the treatment of the Peach tree, and would be grateful if you will answer some questions. Do you know of any reason why oats should be injurious to a peach orchard ? — Some of my neighbours have advised me against cultivating oats in my orchard, and have given as a reason that it would ruin it. I have, with considerable trouble and ex- pense, raised a fine orchard of choice fruit, and would dislike to injure it. Do you know of any instance where the plan has been pursued with injury or other- wise ? My plan was to sow oats, and turn the hogs in as soon as they were ripe, which would be in time for the peaches as they commenced falling. I saw some time since in your paper, or the '• Farmer," I do not recollect which, that a solution of potash, strong enough to bear an egg, was the best wa.sh for the body of the tree. Have you ever tried it, or do you know any body who has ? When should it be applied ? Have you ever tried the plan of drawing the earth away from the roots of the tree, to destroy the worms ? Docs it an- swer, and if so, how long should the roots be exposed, and how much of them ? By answering the above quei'ies, you will much oblige a subscriber. W. F. JONES. Southern Greenwood Nursfjiy, | Richmond, T«., Dec. 21, 1858. j Mr. Editor — In reply to the inquiries made by Mr. W. F. Jones, relative to the treatment of fruit trees, I can say, that I have known several instances where persons have planted good, thrifty, fruit trees in No- vember, or early in the Spring, then sowed the ground with oats, and by the time it was matured, the trees were nearly all dead, ow- ing, in my opinion, to the obstruction of a free circulation of air, and the atmo.sphere be- ing filled with something exhaled by the oats while in a growing state, which is instantly absorbed by the tree acting as a poison there- to ; yet at present it is difficult to say what that sompthing is, I only Jcikjic sw:h to he /nets, while trees planted under the same circumstances, except that the ground was cultivated in peas and potatoes, become healthy and vigorous. I have also known instances, where the cultivation of oats in orchards of more advanced age has had simi- lar effects, though not so instantly fatal. I would recommend the entire prohibition of all crops in an orchard, except peas, pota- toes, or cabbage, and in some instances, to- bacco. I have been using strong soap-suds as a wash for the bodies of fruit trees for the last fifteen years, and from the advanta- geous results arising therefrom, I most heart- ihj recommend it as superior to any other for that purpose. This should be applied with a coarse cloth during the growing season, viz : May, July, and the latter part of Au- gust. By observation and experience, I have found it very essential to the health, vigour, and longevity of the peach tree, that the earth be taken from the body during the months of Dec'r, Jan'ry and February, thus exposing the top of the main roots from two to sis inches, according to the size of the tree, af- ter which, take all remaining insects from the body and roots with a knife or chisel, and thi-ow upon them a half peck of leach- ed ashes, or a small quantity of lime, pre- vious to returning the top soil. By a strict adherence to the above sug- gestions, trees can be made to retain a thrif- ty and fruitful condition to an advanced age. Yours, truly, LEWIS TUDOR. Quantity and Value of the Manure of Cattle. Since the publication of our article on this subject (Co. Gent, of March 5th, and Cult, of April), we have found the following remarks in the report of a recent discussion at a meeting of the London Farmers' Club, England. The gentleman who opened the discussion, ^Ir. Baker, is reported to have said that he had found, on investigation, that a cow feeding on lUO lbs of grass gave 71 lbs of solid and li(|uid deposit. An ox would produce 11 cwt. while feeding on turnips or mangold wurtzel with 24 to 28 lbs. of solid straw daily ; or, in all, about 150 lbs. of solid and liquid manure would be produced by an ox daily. (This, we pre- sume, is true only of an ox of very large size, and weighing about 2000 lbs.) An ox. if kept feeding continually on turnips, grain, and hay, in the ordinary mode, would produce in the seven months of winter about 64 THE SOUTHERN PLANTER. [January twelve tons of manure ; and if foddered in j summer about seven tons more. Thus a | large ox would produce, altogether, about 19 tons in the yard. In feeding in boxes an ox of average weight, it was said, would pro- duce about 11 cubic yards of manure in four months, or 83 cubic yards if kept con- stantly in a box for the whole year. In reference to the value of manures from farm stock, it was remarked that horses was much superior to that from oxen, and that from oxen superior to that from cows, and that from old or full-grown animals far supe- rior to that from young animals. A cow in feeding extracts a larger quantity of the nutritive qualities of food than an ox, be- cause food passes more rapidly into the form of milk than that of muscle or flesh and fat. Again, nearly all the food consumed by full- grown animals goes to supply the natural waste of the system, whereas much of that consumed by younger ones is absorbed in the formation of additions to the bones, flesh and fat, and this is the reason why the rich- est manure is produced by animals already fat and full-grown. In the feeding of horses it has been found, said Mr. Baker, that this animal produced in solid and liquid deposits taken together three-fourths in weight of what it ate and drank. A well-fed horse would give 9 J tons of solid and liquid manure per annum ; and if to this were added about 2^ tons of straw or other litter, the whole amount made by a hoi-se in a stable in the course of a year might be estimated at 12 tons. In our former paper the two following re- sults were obtained from collating a variety of observations made by difi"erent individuals : 1. That an average size cow, or one fed chiefly on hay and allowed water freely, will make about two and a half pounds of solid manure for each pound of hay, or its equiv- alent consumed, or, allowing one-fifth for dif- ference between it and in the usual state of' dryness, about two pounds for each pound of i hay consimied. 2. That the value of the manure made by a medium sized cow in the , course of a year would be according to the i usual modes of estimating ammonia, potash and pho.sphoric acid, equal to between S20 ! and S23, or a little over 810 in the course of! the six moths of winter. A comparison of the somewhat loose esti-1 mates which we have quoted, with the results' which we obtained as to quantit)/ from collating ' several cbservations of the highest dcCTee of accuracy and reliability, v,-ill furnish addi- tional grounds of confidence in the conclu- sions at which we arrived. In making any estimates based on these conclusions as to the qnrmtiti/ of manure made by animals fed in stables or at distilleries during the winter, it should be recollected that our conclusions refer to medium sized animals, cows or cattle rather under than over the weight of 1,000 lbs. If the application is to be made to the case of large oxen, from 1,400 to 2,000 lbs., a corresponding allowance must be made ac- cording to the gross weight and the greater quantity of food consumed. As it may seem to many that the estimate given in our former article, as to the vahie of the total deposits, solid and liquid, of a medium sized cow or ox during the course of a year, must be too high, we wish to re- mind such of the fact, that according to the usual modes of managing manure, far more than half its value is dissipated by expo-sure to rain, sun and wind, while the liquid por- tion is seldom saved at all. As manures are usually managed, there -is little wonder that some should think them hardly worth haul- ing and spreading. The virtue has gone out of them. Then, again, it should be remembered in estimating the value of manures that much, very much, depends on the nature of the food consumed. The more nitrogen there is in the food, the more ammonia will there be* in the manure. A cow or ox fed on straw, poor hay, and no grain, will yield manure of much less value than one fed on richer food, with oil-cake, &c. — Country Gentlemen. Keep the Stable Floors Clean. We know divers people wlio take some pride in their liorses and cattle, but are inveterate slovens in their stiihles. Their racks and man- gers are so made that half the hay they give their stock is wasted under their feet. They don't clean their stables but once a week or fortnight. AVe have, indeed, seen stables, where valua- ble animals were kept, not cleaned out during the winter, and the heels of the poor beast stood a foot higher than their fore feet in the latter part of the season. We once hired a barn — a nice, newly built barn — of a man for the winter, and when we went to put our stock into it, found that the horse stable sill was more than two feet above the ground, and the poor beast had to leap that to get into it, and fall down or make a leap every time they went out of it; and also, that full eighteen inches 1859.] THE SOUTHERN PLANTER. 55 of solid horse dang had to be thrown out, taking a man half a day to do it before we could use it; besides repairing the entrance by a bridge that they could -walk in and out upon. We scolded the owner soundly for laziness — it was nothing else — and he only answered that " he hadn't time to clean it. and did not see what harm it did the horses !" And yet when we came to settle with him in the spring, he wanted some dollars extra because we used a part of his barn door to mix cut feed upon, on the plea that in wetting it for mixing, it rotted the floor during the winter! Ilis half a dozen loads of horse dung, seething and fermenting through a long hot summer, didn't rot the stable floor. A stable where stock is kept should be cleaned out once a day, at least, and twice if the animals stand in it day and night. In all our stable practice, we clean the stible twice a day and shake up the bedding, let the weather be as it will. On the floors of our calf and sheep stables we scatter dry litter, and when thoroughly soiled and saturated, we clean it out and supply its place with fresh. The am- monia arising from the stale of stock in the stables, becomes, in a very short time, very of- fensive to them, as it is to ourselves. It pene- trates their lungs and gives them disease. Its pungency affects their eyes, making tht m sore and irritable, and is a positive injury, to say nothing of the slovenliness of leaving the sta- bles unclean. Cleanliness, indeed, is as ne- cessary to beast as to man. No creature can thrive when fouled and besmeared with ordure. Where horses (not mares) and oxen stand regularly, holes should be bored through tlie floor to let their stale run through on to muck below, or into a trench by which it may pass off and be saved. Otherwise, it renuvins under them to make them uncomfortable when they lie down, unless they have bediling enough to fully absorb it, which is not always convenient. Our own plan of stable flooring is to raise that part on wiiich the animals stand two inches — the thickness of the plank — above the passage behind, and sloping from the foot of the man- ger back, to give a fall of one or two inches in the distance of six or seven feet of floor on which they stand, to admit the stale to pass off readily, as well as to let the droppings on to the lower level behind them. — Maine Farmer. Absorbent Power of Soils. Absorption, defined by Webster as '' the act or process of inibilung by substances which drink in and retain liquids," is a quality possessed by all soils in a greater or less degree. And of this difference in ca- pacity, especially as regards absorbing and retaining manures, something has long been known, and has given rise to the application of the terms " hungry" and' " quick," to loose and gravelly soils, because they do not long show the effect, and speedily manifest the action of manures, while clays were said to " hold" the fertilizing matters applied. The investigations of chemistry show that beside what would naturally result from the different mechanical action — the compact- ness or porosity of the soil — there are differ- ences in their chemical affinities for acids, alkalies and gases, which vary their power of absorbing and retaining the elements of fertility derived from manures. Loamy and aluminous soils were found by Prof. Way to possess the power, when used as a leach or filter, of retaining the ammo- nia, phosphoric acid, potash, etc., contained in the drainage of a London sewer — the very elements most valuable for manure — and to have the wonderful property, not only to select, but to retain these elements against every power naturally brought to bear upon them, save the growth of plants themselves. " A power," he remarks, " is here found to reside in soils, by virtue of which not only is rain unable to wash out of them those solu- ble ingredients forming a necessary condi- tion of vegetation, but even these com- pounds, when introduced artificially by ma- nures, are laid hold of any loss, either by rain or evaporation." These conclusions seem to show that on most soils (one class of experiments was made with light loam) manure may be ap- plied at any time in the season with equal good results — that there is no danger of los.s when actually mixed with the soil, either by filtration or ev.aporation. Further experi- ments are needed to prove the absolute cor- rectness of these conclusions to the general mind, but there ai-e those who believe they may act upon them with safety. If estab- lished, much labor may be saved in the ap- plication of manures. They may be drawn in the f:dl and plowed under, or left spread upon the surface, or may be distributed in winter instead of immediately before plant- ing and sowing, which is ever the most hur- rying season of the year. For ourself, on clays or heavy lands, we would not hesitate to act upon these suggestions. Some experiments tried in England sev- eral years since by ]Mr. Thomson, to ascer- tain the power of the soil to retain unim- paired in value, manure applied during win- ter, and also its power to hold in suspmsion the fixed ammonia of barnyard tanks and manure heaps, resulted in the following deduc- tions ; — 1. That clay soils might be manured 56 THE SOUTHERN PLANTER. [January a cousiderable time before sowing without loss. 2. That light, shallow soils should not be manured heavily at onetime; and the manure should be kept as near the surface as jjossible without leaving it uncove^'ed. B. That it is desirable to deepen the cultivated soil on all light land, as it thus gives it a greater power of retaining manure. That all soils possess considerable power of absorbing and retaining manure, is well known ; but the great question of the most economical application of different fertilizers is, and will long remain an open one, and one upon which every farmer can do more or less to satisfy himself by practical experiment. — Let those who can, throw light upon the subject, for it is one of large importance in agriculture. — Countrij Gentlemen. Water Proof Clothing for Negroes. , We give from the Seientific American the following method of rendering ne^ro clothing proof against dews and showers : '■ Take one pound of wheat bran and one ounce of glue, and boil them in three galhms of water in a tin vessel for half an hour. Now lift the vessel from the fire, and set aside for ten minutes ; during this period the bran will full to the bottom, leaving a clear liquid above, which is to be poured otf, and the bran thrown away; one pound of bar soap cut to small pieces is to be dissolved in it. The liquor may be put on the fire in the tin pan, and stirred until all the soap is dissolved. In another ves- sel one pound of alum is dissolved in half a gallon of water ; this is added to the soap-bran liquid while it is boiling, and all well stirred ; this forms the water-proofing liquid. It is used while cool. The textile fabric to be rendered water proof is immersed in it, and pressed be- tween the bands until it is perfectly saturated. It is now wrung, to squeeze out as much of the free liquor as possible; then shaken or stretched, and hung up to dry in a warm room, or in a dry atmosphere out doors. When dry, the fabric or [ cloth, so treated, will repel rain and moisture, I but allow the air or perspiration to pass through it. " The alum, gluten, gelatine and soap unite I together, and form an insoluble compound, ! which coats every fibre of the textile fal)ric, I and when dry, repels water like the natural oil j in the feathers of a duck. There are various sulistauces which are soluble in water singly, but when combined form insoluble compouuds, ] and vice versa. Alum, soap and gelatine are! soluble in water singly, hut forni insoluble com- pounds when united chemically. Oil is inso- luble in water singly, but combined with caus- tic, soda or potash, it forms a soluble soap. Such are some of the useful curiosities of chemistry." Soil of the South. Seventh Annual Meeting. The United States Agiicultural Society will hold its Seventh Annual Meeting in the Lecture Room of the Smithsonian Institution, at Wash- ington cit}', on Wednesday, tlie 12th day of January, IbSO, when the election of officers will be held, and the business required by the con- stitution of the Society will be transacted. Ottieers and JVIenibers of the Society are re- si)ectJiilly notified to attend, and a cordial invi- tation is extended to State and other A ithout any further payments, to the full privilege of membership — among these are: free admission to all exhibitions of the Society, tlie annual volumes of published Transactions, the Monthly Bulletin, and the large and elegant Diploma. The fee for Annual Membership is two dollars, which ensures the receipt of the 1859.] THE SOUTHERN PLANTER. 57 Transactions and the Monthly Bulletin for one year. KICHMOND, VIRGINIA. Happy New Year. Since the issue of our last No., another year, with all its concomitant circumstances of joy, grief, and toil: of pleasures, disappointments, and trials, has fled into the dim sliadow of the past. We may remember, but cannot recall its hours. Yet time has laid upon us the burden and responsibility of both the rmmber and occu- pation of its days. Happy he who, in a retro- spective glance, finds nothing to regret of greater moment than the increase of grey hairs, which serve to warn him of the sure approach of life's winter, and an honorable old age. Of time past, the recording angel has made up his ac- count; and we trust that in his sympathy for erring humanity, he has "dropped a tear" over the list of our short comings, and " blotted out the record forever," leaving life's page unblem- ished by marks of misspent time. In tendering to our patrons " tlie compliments of the season," %Ve wish them the enjoyment of all the best blessings of a beneficent Providence, and that they may so occupy the hours of the year now before them, as to secure for them- selves, and those dependent on them, an in- crease of happiness, prosperity, and content- ment. "That they may live thro' many a joyous year. While herflth and happiness their steps attend — May sleep with lids unsullied by a tear, With naught to grieve the heart, naught to ofl'end." A few words as to our own connection with the large and respectable class of our readers, may not now be improper. For six months past, it has been our duty to lay before them what- ever we could collect of an agricultural char- acter, ^^•llich, in our humble judgment, we deemed best calculated to benefit, instruct, or amuse them. Of the measure of success at- tending our efforts, we may not speaic, but we may honestly say, we have done our best to ac- quit ourselves of the task with fidelity and dili- gence— while, with a painful consciousness of having fallen far short of our wishes in the scale of excellence, we may ask them to " pass our imperfections by." To many of our subscribers we are indebted for words of encouragement and good will, which have been gratefully received as " words spoken in season." These cheer us on, and tend to make of our labors, a labor of love. Thus may there ever be, between our patrons and ourselves, a reciprocity of kindly feelings, and good oflices, while our time is profitably employed under the direction of the " Lord of the harvest." May we be gathered in His sheaves, and stored in His Garner, when time shall be no longer; and until this change shall come, may we never fail to attain the fullest fruition of a happy New Year. Special Notice. TO SUBSCRIBERS IN ARREAR. To every subscriber who shall send us, before the first day of February next, the amount now due us, together with his subscription for the present year, we will send with the receipt Post- age stamps sufficient to pay the postage on the volume for 1859. We hope they will all avail themselves of this offer. There are many of them in arrear, and their prompt attention to tliis matter will greatly benefit us. We have received a pamphlet copy of the Introductory Address of John F. G. Holstojj, A.M. M.D., Professor of Clinical Surgery in the National Medical College, on the opening of that Institution, delivered in the Hall of the Smithsonian Institute, October 18th, 1S5S, and published by the unanimous request of the students. The speaker gives a succinct but lucid and grajjhic history of medicine, first as an art and then as a science, and enunciates the cardinal points upon which it rests. "The last point is, indeed," says the speaker, "the only one strictly scientific and of an endlessly progressive char- acter," namely : " By the process of general- izing, to discover principles or primary truths applicable to the explanation of all observed phenomena." He repudiates, with merited scorn, the isms and pathies, the nostrum monger- 58 THE SOUTHERN PLANTER. [Ja^tjabt img and fptcialisms of ovir day, as having their f tend to Mr. Crockett the right band of fellow- antitrpe in the superstitious empiricism of i ship. We hope he mar be ■well recompensed Egypt, and extols the science of medicine as a ! for his efforts in the cause of Agriculture, and "Godlike science, studying the relation of cause meet with abundant success in his undertaking, and effect by a system of severe induction, and I rallying all the sciences around her. as subservi- ent handmaids." Cosmopolitan Art JoumaL A qtiarterly, devoted to the diffusion of Litera- niie and Art. Containing in the December issue a number of well vrritten articles, among -which ■we name the follo^wing : Art in America: its History, Condition, and Pros- pects. By HeXBT T. TrCKERKAX. Character in Scenery : its Relation to the National 3Iind. By the EDiTOtt. Santa Croce: The Westminster Abby of Florence. By 0. W. Wight. Xaiurc'g Lessons. By Prof. Iea W. Allex. A Ballad: Dainty Jenny Englisheart. By T. B. Aldeich. TTie House vrith Ttco Fronts. By Al:ce Cast. And 3ody and Soul. (Poetry.) By !Met7a Victoeia VicToa. It is beautifully illustrated ■with a number of fine engra'vings, f>ortraits. &c. : and as a -whole is a very creditable representative of the intel- ligence and taste of the association under ■whose I auspices it is published. We commend it to every one ■who desires to cultivate a taste for the beautiful, — a natural instinct of every mind, ■which, by its educational development, expands its powers, liberalizes, ennobles, and purifies its sentiments, and becomes the source of unal- loyed pleasure, as well as the handmaid of Tiriue. To Subscribers. • In consequence of the change in the Proprie- torship of the '• Southern Planter," it is very im- portant that our subscribers should remit the amount of their indebtedness with as little delay as possible. The amount due from each subscriber is in itself comparatively trifling, but in the aggre- gate it makes up a very large sum, and if each subscriber will consider this as a direct appeal to himself, and promptly remit the amount of his bill, it will be of infinite service to us. We commence sending ■with this number the bill to each subscriber ■who is in arrear, and shall continue to do so until all shall have been sent out. We ask, as a favor, a prompt response from all. The bills are made up to 1st January next. The fractional part of a dollar can be remitted in jwstage stamps, or the change rerarned in the same. Arorsi & Williams. We tender our thanks to the Publisher, for a sheet containing lithographic p>ortraits of the eight Bishops of the Metho