Newspaper Page Text
No. 33 Vql. IV.
AGRICULTU RA L.
HOT IN COTTON.
From the Winy aw S. C. Intelligencer.
Experiments on the Rot in Cotton, by Dr. Xeno
phon Fraccy, a member of the Clermont Ag
ricultural Society.
In a small detached field of about 15
acres, I had the stalks and trash of the pre
ceding year's cotton collected and burned.
The seed were then soaked 21 hours in a
strong solution of salt and water, and care
fully rolled in fresh wood ashes, and plant
ed in beds in the usual manner. In anoth
er field, l had (lie fibres of cottou burned
off the seed by setting fire to the heap, stir
ring it briskly so as to destroy effectually all
eggs, &c.; these were also soaked in brine
and rolled in lime. These preparatory
steps gave me a good stand, and vigorous
growth when young—but early in the
month of August, tbe rot had made a for
midable appearance in both these fields;
the cotton was very forward on account of
the seed having been procured from the
extreme part of North Carolina, bordering
on Tennessee. I enveloped several plants
with gauze entirely, first clearing away ev
ery appearance of larva, egg or insect; I
then covered several limbs, containing ma
ny pods on them, in all about a dozen ; un
der three of (be gauze sacks, I placed some
insects,* and rendered them as well as the
other-inaccessible, by close tying around
Jhe body of the plant. The envelope re
mained until nearly the whole of the pods
opened, or about the last of September—
in the course of which time, much of the
jadjoining cotton rotted, the season having
been uncommonly wet. Notwithstanding,
1 could not discover a puncture or even the
slightest appearance of rot in any one of
the pods so protected, except the three
.plants which bad insects placed within the
covering; nearly every pod rotted on
those, or were materially injured by fre
quent punctures —I am certain that the
whole would have rottpd had not a lew
day sos dry weather intervened, which sav
ed If pods out of 53, the aggregate number
cn (he three plants. There were about
170 pods on the other plants enveloped,
which looked larger titan these around, and
were entirely free from the black specks
observable on all unprotected cotton —and
I am fully impressed with the belief that
they yielded more cotton, (hough I did not
weigh them to test the fact. One of the
in=ectß under one of the coverings produced
about 10 young ones, in the latter part of
August, and they were able to produce rot
about ix days after. This circumstance
induced me to collect about a dozen insects
and place them under three tumblers, di
viding them equally ; 1 fed them daily with
fresh pods of greed seed cotton for a week;
they all appeared healthy, and punctured
the pod about every two hours for suste
nance, during the night as well a3 day—l
then fed those under one of the tumblers
with black seed pods, and continued the
green seed to the others ; at the end of an
other week all under the glass fed with
black seed cotton died, the others continu
ed healthy, and seemed to feed rather of
tener than at first. In the course of a few
days after, 1 found upon changing the pods,
that one of them which had been under the
glass 24 hours, bad a number of eggs upon
it, which i carefully preserved by return
ing it under the covering, and placed a cot
ton leaf under the other g!a=s. Two days
after I found the leaf almost covered with
rgg, which hatched in four days. 1 then
had an innumerable blood of small black
insects which collected in groups on differ
ent p u ts of the pod,giving them art ulcera
ted appearance. I was obliged to sweep
them off carefully with a feather, in order
to renew their daily food.. In the course of
two or three days, they began to assume a
greeni-h cast, and gradually developed all
the appearances which has been described
cn a former occasion.
} wish, therefore, to correct ronkclure*
formed the last year in regard to their
manner of propagation. The egg certain
ly brings forth the insect, and it speedily
matures, without undergoing any change
except in size and colour. How often they
multiply their species in the year, 1 am un
able to say, but believe it to be more khan
once. The matured insect probably under
goes a change at the approach of winter,
mit as yet l have been unable to detect it.
It is not material whether it does undergo
a change or not; the object of this research
has been directed, in ascertaining fully the
cause of rot, by which means we might be
enabled to come also at the remedy—hut
so far as my researches go, the remedy
seems removed, if possible, to a greater dis
tance ; such as have been heretofore re
commended are, at least, perfectly ineffect
ual—and the only one which now holds out
to be really successful, is planting together
alternate rows of black and green seed cot
ton. This plan has succeeded in two fields
in which it was planted this year, perhaps
from the dislike the insects have to the
black seed : and the intermixture deceives
and confuses them—by whch means they
are driven from the field. ,
•Genus Cirmv Linn. Species V'elcx, as it is be
’ievetj.
tiie missionary.
MOUNT ZION, (HANCOCK COUNTY, GEORGIA,) MONDAY, MARCH 10, 18231
descriptive.
Extracts from letters of a Traveller on a Visit to
Saratoga, Lake George and Lebanon, original
ly published in the Theological Repertory,
(Washington City.J
1 he scenery of Lake George and the
events associated with its military history,
afford abundant sources of imagery, and a
wide field in which the memory and the
fancy might expatiate* Apart from that
factitious enthusiasm which the ruins of
bort William Henry, and its environs, asso
ciated as they are with the trngick events
of their history, are calculated to inspire,
there is every thing here to gratify a mind
disposed to cultivate the meditative virtues.
There is a refined moral sense, by which
the still small voice of the works of crea
tion is heard, and their silent pointings dis
covered; and which may be strengthened
and improved by cultivation. Thi-, even
more than the principle or emotion of taste,
i a gift or talent, and is susceptible of high
er improvement. To the Christian alone,
indeed—him who contemplates God a a
reconciled Father in Christ Jesus—do the
forms and vicissitudes of the scenery of na
ture bring their full beauty and value :
“ lie looks abroad into the varied field
Os nature ; and though poor, perhaps, compared
With (hose whose mansions glitter in bis sight,
Calls the deligldful scenery all iiis own.
Ilis are the mountains, end the valleys Ids,
And the resplendent rivers; his t’ eiijoy
With a propriety that none can feel
But who, with filial confidence inspir’d,
Can lift to heaven an unpresumptuous eye,
And, smiling, say, ‘ My Fattier made them all!’
Are they not his by a peculiar right,
And by an emphasis of Interest Ins.
Whose eye they fill with tear? of holy joy.
Whose heart with prai-e, and whose exalted mind
With worthy thoughts of that unwearied love
9 oat planned, and built, and still upholds a world
So clothed with beauty for rebellious man ?”
From the spot in which we were now
viewing the lake, it is about two miles wide,
and presents to the eye the form of a per
fect parallelogram, though when viewing it
on its northern margin, this line is found to
be somewhat curved. The moon soon
rose, foil orbed, over the eastern barrier of
mountains, fringing their tops with its silve
ry ray, and -casting its light and shade <>n lull
and stream. A light breeze just touched
upon the surface of the lake, and gently
awakened the crystal drops that had been
slumbering on it* bosom, to dance and spar
kls in the lunar beam. On each side of the
lake the mountains raised themselves, ma
jestically and gracefully sloping to the shore,
wearing at their tops a lofty and rich fol
iage, which was now reflected in a com
mingled shade that rendered the illuminat
ed parts of the lake more resplendant.
The whole scene was calculated lo excite
sublime and devout emotions, to hush every
tumultuous passion, and to raise the soul to
the contemplation of that crystal liver ot
life which “ proceeded) out of the throne
of God and of the Lamb.”
But where, in this fallen world, is there
a spot so tranquil and so pure that human
passion* have not ruffled, human crimes pol
luted it? Even the bosom of this peaceful
lake has been dashed by the angry oar of
(he foeman, seeking to Imbrue his hands in
his brother’s blood. Thousands of war
rionrs have traversed its innoxious waves,
bent on the unnatural work of destroying
their fellow-creatures. But where are they
now, and what the fruit of their ambition
and their carnage? Like the shadow which
they cast upon the waters, they have pas
sed away. Still as the silence that now
rests upon their lonely grave, are they who
■ •nee made these valley* ami mountains re
sound With their cannons’ roar. Their
dust Jias returned to the earth as it was, and
their spirits unto God who gave them; to
render their account heforo Him, in whose
sight the secret struggles of the righteous,
their victories over their passions, witnessed
only by God and themseives, possess more
lustre and are more worthy of approbation
than all those greal events which are em
blazoned in the histories and the pompous
monuments of this world. The scene be
fore us called up the recollection of the fol
lowing lines:
“ See liovv beneath the moon beams’ smile
You little billow heaves it breast,
And foams ami sparkles for awhile,
And, murmuring, then subsides to rest.
So man, the of strife and care.
Rises on time’s eventful sea,
And, having swelled a moment there,
Sinks then into Eternity.”
After a pleannt night of repose, we
awoke to behold the still brighter glories
which morning had shed upon tins lovely
spot. The day was clear, ami the air had
in it a delicious coolness. Having break
fasted, we hastened to embark on a little
excursion down the lake. Our accommo
dating landlord had his boat in readiness,
with good oarsmen, and fi-hing implements,
for those who wished to amuse themselves
in (hat way. The number of islu ds in the
* I do not profess to have much of thnl line and
subtle spirit which lives and moves, and has its
being, iu the past alone. Rut I could not help
feeling something of it when, on pacing the ruins
of Fort William Henry, walking on the “ field of
surrender” at Schuylersyille, I was carried back
m imagination to the illustrious persons who acted
in these scenes, and to the important erents con
nected with their history. At tins time, however,
other thoughts occupied my mind.
GO VF. INTO ALL THE WORLD AND PREACH THE GOSPEL TO EVERT CREATIVE.
lake are said to correspond to the number’
of days in the year. They are generally!
covered with trees, which, by their rich
verdure, and the reflection of their tall and
antick shapes on the water, afford to the
passing voyager a pleasant and amusing
spectacle. The first one that presents it
self is called Tea Island, and to which stran
gers usually resort. It is a little rocky
protuberance, about 100 yards in length, by
about 50 in width, covered with trees, and
having a summer house at its summit. Its
principal beauty is a little inlet or basin,
just wide enough to admit a batteau at its
mouth, but which then widens into a com
modious littlh harbour, formed with all the
regularity of art. To the eye of fancy it
might seem, that this spot had been con
trived by the Nereids of the lake, as the
place in which Ihpy moored their barks,
whilst they kept their festal sports on the
island. We had time to vist only another,
called Diamond Island,, which receives its
name from the beautiful crystals found in
its bosom. These the poor people of the
vicinity frequently occupy themselves in
collecting, in order to sell them to visiters.
They are no longer found, generally, in
loose crystals, but embedded in their
rocky matrix, from which they are disen
gaged after being dug up. They are of
the usual form of the six-sided prism, ter
minating at one, and sometimes at both ends,
in the same prismatick manner. Scarcely
any thing can surpass them for transparen
cy and general perfection of form. Our
oarsmen were busied in procuring them for
ns, while some of the parly amused them
selves in angling near the edge of the isl
and. The transparency of the waters of
this lake is so remarkable, that it is said,
that “ in fishing even in twenty or twenty
five feet water, the angler may select his
fish by bringing the hook near the month of
the one. he prefers.' * Bass and trout are
here caught in great abundance and perfec
tion. But this was not the season lor them,
and our time being limited, we returned,
without much delay, to the village.
In the aliernoon we repaired to Fort
Ger-rg, which lies at the south end of the
Sake. Its walls of stone, built in a circular
term, still remain, and are, in some places,
bl* 20 feet high. From this elevated point
you have the best view of the lake and its
environs. On the left hand appear the lil
iie village of Caldwell and the western bar
rier ol mountains; on the right (he Eastern
or French mountain which skirts that side
of the lake; and in front the lake itself
stretches for ward about 12 miles, till it is
interrupter! by the promontory of moun
tains which divide it. and turn part of it to
the left where it is lost in Northwest Bay,
and the other to the right in its outlet to
wards Lakp Champlain. In this perspec
tive, the lake appears studded with its little
Hands like so many insignia of majesty
hound upon her bosom; while, on either
hand, the lofty mountains, which sweep
their bold phalanx around her, retire in
graceful acclivity from the shore, as though
they would thu- modestly approach the il
lustrious subject of their charge.
Lake George and its environs have fur
nished copious materials for the historic!,
and trngick mnse. Here, on the sth July,
175(5, Abercrombie embarked his army,
consisting of nearly 16,000 men, including
9,000 troops from the colonies, and a cor
respondent train of artillery, on board of
125 whale boats and 900 batteaux. This
army was destined to the attack on Ticon
deroga and Crown Point, which terminated
in a disastrous defeat of the assailants, and
the death of Lord Howe. In July of the
next summer, Gen. Amherst transported an
army little inferiour in numbers, down Lake
George, for the same object, and obtained
an easy victory. In the year 1757, the
Marquis de Montcalm landed 10,000 men at
this place, for the siege of Fort William
Henry r . The Inhabitants point out the
place of his landing, near the site of the
present court house. The monuments of
his vir.it are still seen in the remains of his
batteries and other works, and in the graves
and bones of the slain which are occasion
ally discovered.
The ruins of Fort William Henry are
still visible. It was situated near the lake,
on its southern edge, between Fort Grorge,
which overlooksut, and the village ofCald
well. We walked over it, and could per
ceive the traces of its walls, gates and out
works, and the well which supplied the gar
rison with water. This fort is famous for
the massacre committed there in 1757.
In that year, it was garrisoned by Col. Mun
roe with 3.000 men, when the Marquis de
Montcalm brought against it 10,000 men,
with a formidable train of artillery. After
a gallant defence, the English commander
was compelled to capitulate, which he did
on honourable term*. But the capitulation
was barbarously violated by the Indians un
der Montcalm, who attacked the troups as
they were marching out, and committed np
on men, women, and children, the most
horrid and indiscriminate butchery. It is
too shocking even to relate what is still re
membered by some of the oldest inhabitants,
of this deed of guiit and blood. The fort
was then leveled by Montcalm, and For!
George built as a substitute for it on a more
commanding site. This fort was the depot
used by Burgoyne for some time during the
revolutionary war, but Wa3 never remarka
ble for any great military operation. Hav
ing now sufficiently traversed over ground
with which so many melancholy recollec
tions were associated, I returned to the inn,
meditating upon the mournful effects of that
guilt which brought death into the world
and all our wo.
On the next morning, at sun-rise, we bade
adieu to this interesting vale. It was now
only the sth ot September, but the ground
was covered with hoar-frost, and the morn
ing quite cold. In ascending the hiU, we
took a parting view of the lake, covered
with its misty drapery, which the rising sun
was now chasing from its bosom, but which
still continued lingering on the sides and
tops ol the mountains, as if unwilling to quit
the lair spot on which it had been slum
bering.
A WINTER MORNING SCENE IN THE
WESTERN COUNTRY.
The lake tiad exchanged its covering of
unspotted snow, for a face of dark ice, that
reflected the rays of the rising sun, like a
polished mirror. The houses were cloth
ed in a dress ut the game description, but
which, owing to its position, shone like
blight steel; while tne enormous icicles
that were pendent from every roof, caught
the brilliant light, apparently throwing it
from one to tbe other, as each glittered on
the side next to the luminary, with a golden
lustre that melted away, on its opposite, in
to the dusky shades of aback-ground. But
it was the appearance of the boundless for
ests, (hat covered the hills, as they rose, in
the distance, one over the other, that most
attracted tbe gaze of the spectator. The
huge branches of the pines and hemlocks,
on the western mountains, bent with the
weight ot the ice that they supported, while
their summits rose above the swelling tops
°t the oaks, beeches and maples, like
spires ol burnished silver issuing from
domes of the same material. The limits of
the view in this direction were marked by
undulating outline of bright light, as if,
Reversing the order of nature, numberless
suns might momentarily be expected to
heave above (he western horizou. In the
foreground of the picture, along the shores
of the lake, and near to the village, each
tree seemed studded with diamonds, that
emitted their dancing rays, as the branches
waved gently under the impulse of the
wind. Even the sides of the mountains,
where the rays of the sun could not yet fall,
were decorated with a glassy coat, that pre
sented every gradation of brilliancy, from
the first touch of the luminary, to the dark
foliage of the hemlock, as it glistened
through its coal of crystal. In short, the
whole view was one scene of quivering ra
diancy, as lake, mountains, village, and
woods, each emitted its portion of light,
tinged with its peculiar hue, and varieJ by
its position and its magnitude.
RELIGIOUS,
SINGULAR FACTS.
The following singular facts were stated
at a meeting of a publick society in Shef
field, Eng. Gibbon, who, in his celebrated
History of the Decline and Fail of the Ro
man Empire, has left an imperishable me
morial of his enmity to the Gospel, resided
many years in Switzerland, where, with
tlie profits of his works he purchased a con
siderable estate. This property ha* des
cended to a gentleman who,out of the rents
expends a large sum annually in the pro
mulgation of that very Gospel which his
predecessor insidiously endeavoured to un
dermine. Voltaire boasted that with one
hand he wonld overthrow that edifice ot
Christianity which required the hands of
twelve Apostles to build up. At this day,
the press which he employed at Ferney to
print his blasphemies is actually employed
at Genova in printing the Holy Scriptures.
It is a remarkable circumstance also, that
the first provisional meeting for the re-form
ation of an Auxiliary Bible Society, at Ed
inburgh, was held in the very room in
which Hume died.
ON HEARING THE WORD.
“ The landscape has our praise,
“ But not its Author.” Cowptr.
There are few scenes which receive
more universal admiration than the beau
ties of nature. They have afforded a
theme for the poet, and a model for the
painter; and in every age, nature, in her
plain attire, has enlivened the imagination,
and called into exercise the best feelings of
the heart.
Nothing has a greater influence to ele
vate the mind and awaken, lo action the
dormant energiesof man, than the view ot
a lofty mountain, or the stream, which, as
it rolis along its rocky bed, bret-ks the si
lence of the forest, while the cultivated
fields* waving with the fruit of autumn, or
decked in the loveliness of spring, cannot
fail to kindle, even in the savage breast,
the most delightful emotions.
Upon scenes like these the eye has often
rested with delight, while the heart has not
swelled with one emotion of gratitude to
that Being “ whocrovroeth the year with
his goodness,” anJ scatters around U 9 in
Price \ P f *nn. or, >
’ i $3,00 in advance, y
profusion the blessings of his providence.
” “He the imagination feasted upon the
bean ies of nature, the soul was not filled
with love to the Author; and to every
thing like holy adoration, was cold and life
less. i
With feelings not unlike these, many
have entered the sanctuary of God, and lis
tened to the harmonious accents which fell
from (he lips of the ambassador of heaven.
The powerful eloquence of the speaker
may indeed awaken the sensibility, and
pfrase the fancy, yet tbe heart remaim per
feefly indifferent to the imperious mandates
ol the (sovereign of the Universe. The
musick of a well-toned voice falls sweetly
upon the ear, and the soul is kindled into
transport, while the conscience secure and
undisturbed, slumbers over truths of ever
lasting moment.
Often, too, have we seen the tearofsym
pathy flow, and (he benevolent feelings of
man called to action, while the sufferings
of a fellow mortal were brought te view;
and yet the heart remains unmoved while
hearing the story of a Saviour’s love, or
beholding the wretched condition of apos
tate man painted in its true colours. True,
the talents and eloquence of the speaker re
ceive their due applause—the elegance of
his style is sufficiently commended—but
here the speculative hearer stops. He
has gained his object, ami he goes no far
ther—the gratification of his taste was a !
he sought, and this found, he is content.-’
Thus, in a thousand instance*, the imagL
ation is regaled with a metaphor, or
smooth flowing style, when the soul is le
to perish lor the bread of life. When wit,
a docile, child-like disposition the heare,
should have sought instruction from tin
word of truth, and have applied lo hi owi
conscience the message from heaven, lit
has searched with a critick’s eye, for some
inaccuracy of expression—with the coM
heart of a sceptick hats scruhnizeu #vePy
sentiment much was expressed.
T he glories of the upper world were
presented as motives to influence to a course
nf obedience, and are disregarded—eternal
life is proffered, and not one feeling of pi
ous devotion, or of humble adoration of
that being who provides it. No love is
found in the heart for Him who purchased
our redemption from eternal death, or a
single emotion of gratitude to the preserv
er of our lives and the author of our hies
sings.
Depmuod Ui ,I, A
which regards only the instrument, and ap
plauds only the manner. [Ret. Intel.
A DEIST CONVERTED.
One of the Miracles at the Crucifixion. —
The Rocks rent. Mr. Fleming, in his Christ
ology says: “ A worthy gentleman who
travelled through Palestine, told me tin
an ingenious, person, his fellow Iravelle
who wa3 a deist, used to make merry wi,
all the stories that he had heard concer
ing the places and relicks they went to gl
and particularly when they first shev
him the clefts of the rock of Mount Ca!
ry, which is now included within the gr
dome that was built over it by Constat)!;
the Great. But when he came to examit
the clefts more narrowly and critically, I
told his fellow travellers (hat he now b
gan to be a Christian. Fur, said he, I ha
been long a student of nature, and I am sur>
that these clefts were never made by i
natural or an ordinary earthquake; becaiw
by such concussion, the rock must hu<
split according to the veins, and where
was weakest in the adhesion of parts,
have observed clefts in other rocks, wh
separated, or broken by an earthquak’
, and reason tells me, that the same must a
. ways he the case. But it is quite othei
wise here. The rock is split athwart and
across the veins in a strange and preter
natural manner. Hence I can easily and
ptainlj see it to be the effect of a real mir
acle, which neither nature nor art could
have ever effected. And therefore, said
lie, 1 thank God that I came here, to flee
this standing monument of u miraculous
1 power, by which God gives evidence to
this day of the divinity of Christ.
When Virgii was asked why he studied
so much accuracy in the plan ofhis poem*,
the propriety ofhis characters and the pu
rity ofhis diction, he replied, “ I am wri
ting for eternity.” What can be a
more weighty consideration to justify and
enforce the utmost vigilance and circum
spection oflife than this, “ I am living for
eternity.”
An elector of Cologne, who is likewise
an Archbishop, one day swearing profanely,
asked a peasant who seemed lo wonder,
what he was so surprised at. “To hear ar
Archbishop swear,” answered the peasant.
*- | a wear, answered the Electoi, “ not as
an Archbishop, but as a Prince.” “But,
my lord, ’’says the peasant, when the
Prince goes “to the devil, what will become
of the Archbishop V
Several of the heathen moralists Si poets
(Homer among the* ;t) seem to.have just
er notions of divine aid than many who call
themselves Christians. His writings repre
sent this aid a* necessary to the perform
ance of any great or good action.