NOT THE GLORY OF CUSAR JBUT THE WELFARE OF ROME. BY H. B. STACY. FRIDAY, APniLi 14, 183?. VOIv. X No. 512. Wo liopo die Author of llie following lines lias cast away tlic Howl, but for wliicli lie would lia.vc uccn respected for liis honesty ami admired (or his genius. If differing, deslitution and degradation, wiili all the kindred miseries of diunkenncss, can induce n man to "cast away the bowl," this indi vidual lins brought himself within the rale. Willi talents and integrity which fit him for the highest walks in society, he has Tor years been a ragged, dirty, loathsome drunkard, hanging about ruin cellars, staggering the streets, or rolling in the gutters I in is sober now. and we draw this pic ture, disgusting as it is, that ho may see himself the thing he was. If this is deemed a harsh rem edy, we reply that all the milder ones have been exhausted. He has worn out the sympathies and lost the respect of his friends. In mere compassion he was rescued from commitment as a vagrant, and placed where he has had an opportunity to form redeeming resolutions. We sincerely hope that there is as much truth as poetry In this dclermiiin- tion to become n sober man iAlb. Eve. Jour. I'VE THROWN THE BOWL ASIDE I I've thrown the bowl n!de, For me no more shall flo w lis Middy streams or sparkling tide, How bright sne'er jl glow; 1'vo seen extended wide, Its devastating sway, Seen Reason ield its power to guide I've cast the bowl away ! O ne'er tempt me again To drain the nip of sin : For ruin dire, disease and pain, Taint all that foams within ; 'Neglected duties rise "hi fearful, sad nrray, x Up lo it's hi mi. I will lie wise I've cast the br,vl away ! I've seen the pride of all The wi"P, the good, the great Like summer leaves, all timeless fall, And veil their high estate ; I've seen fair woman cive Her cery charm away Embrace the demon vile, and lio ! I've c?t the bowl away ! My days nf rcielry O gladly I cive up : They're but the marks of misery, Which still links in the cup; While indolence nnd want And poverty display Themselves in every drunkard's haunt I've cast the bowl away ! A drunkard's ntoomv crave Shall ne'er be made for mo ; O rather let the rushing wave Engulph mo in the sea ! And may it be my lot To die 'iien ill Reason's ra ! Remembered lv my friemls or nDt, I'e cast tlicuoivl away ! Mv path henceforth is plain, In honesty to live To shun Intemperance nnd ils train, By Industry to thrive ; No duly lo for jet, Anil live to bless the day When I was led without regret, To cast the bowl away ! communication. Mr. Editor : Although wc arc not a song loving nation, wc hnvc cars ond vo cal organs, and may by cnlluro become sweet singers and fine performers. I beg the attention, of such of your rcadors as deem the education of the whole man n duty, and all those means and faculties which may contribute to it obligatory on llic patriot and philanthropist to furnish, so far as ho may bo ablo,) to the following description from Madam du Steal's Ger. many. Nearly all the inhabitants of the city and country, the soldiers and the labourers, understand music. I have sometimes had occasion to enter the houses of the pour, all blackened by the smoke of tobacco and unexpectedly heard the master and mis tress of the house extemporize on the Harpsichord ns the Italians do in song. In almost all places care is taken on mar ket day? to station on the balconies of t ho principal city hotels players on wind in 6truments, that the country people may participate thus in the sweet pleasures of the fust of arts. The students walk the streets on the Sabbath, singing Hymns tn choirs; it is said of Luther that in early youth he often made one of such choirs. was at Eiscnbach (a small city of Sax ony) on a cold winters day, where the 6trccts were filled with snow. 1 6aw a long train of young persons in black cloaks who walked tho streetssinging the prais. csof God. None but themselves wore in the street (the extrcmo cold keeping tho people in their houses;) and theso voices, nearly as harmonious as those of more south cm climates, in falling upon the car in bucIi a climate, served in a high degree to soften tho 6oul and move it to lovo and praise. Tho inhabitants of the city, durst not, on account of the extrcmo cold, open their windows, but through them might bo seen persons with countenances sad and .Bcrenc, young or old, who received with joy tho religious consolations that this sweet melody offered them. The poor Bohemians, when thoy travel, followed by lliejr wives and children, carry upon their backs a species of harp of rough wood, .from which they draw harmonious sounds. They play upon it when they roposo nl tho foot of a tree, upon tho highway, or when near post houses they endeavor to1 interest travellers by the concert of their strolling families. Tho herds in Austria kept by shepherds who play some charming airs upon simple and sonorous insttumcnts. These airs nccord perfectly with the sweet and pensive impression8 which the country produce. Instrumental music is as generally cultivated in Ger. many as vocnl music is in Italy. C. LETTERS TO YOUNG LADIES. Tho Authoress of "Letters to Young Lidice," Mrs. Sigourney, has lung enjoyed an enviable but merited fame, as one fa vored by the nine, and gifted beyond tho usual lot of mortals. To the many proofs she has given the world of her superior mental powers, she has now added another which evinces not less the benevolence of her heart, than it does the endowments of her mind. We have seen no work of late which wc look upon as so well calculated to do good, as this. It is precisely such an one as was required to correct many preva lent and growing evils, among those to whom it is addressed, it is written, as it should he, in a plain, though agreeable style, advisory and matronly, but diversified and enlivened by anecdotes, and apposite illustrations, which rivet the attention while they enforce the advice given, or the position asserted. Hut we must allow the gifted authoress to speak for herself, and our fuir readers lo judge for them selves. On the subject of Knowledge she says : "Knowledge opens sources of delightful contemplation lor domestic retirement This renders it a peculiar protection for the young. In their fondness for promts cuous society, they aro often in danger of forming indiscreet associations, or rash at t&chmcutG. Knowledgo makes home pleasant, and self communion no eolitudo 'When I em alouc it talks with me. so that I have no need to go abroad, and solicit amusement from others.' said the philoso pher Antisthenes. Tho lineament of knowledge, strongly recommends it to our own sex, my dear young friends. For home is our province and it is our imper ativu duty to strivo to render it agreeable; and as we aro never more disposed to be amiable than when we are happy, wc shall probably best succeed in imparting felicity when we enjoy it ourselves." ' In our age of I lie world knowlodgc seems requisite to gain and preserve re spect. Adulation is the food of the young and beautiful, but maturity requires stron ger aliment. Nectar and ambrosia vanish with the brief goddess of beauty, and she who fuels the burdens of lifo in their dense and uncompromising reality, will gladly accept a more substantial nourishment In order to be upheld by tho respect of him whose name sua bears, and by that of the household which 9hc is appointed to govern it is necessary that she should not disgrace them by ignorance. There was a lime when humble industry and virtuous exam ple were all that society demanded of wo man. That period is past. Education, in conferring new privileges, erected a trihti 11 nl where each recipient is summoned to give account of her stewardship. The very children of tho log cottages througout nor land, obey the injunction of one of its departed politicians, and 'make a crusade against ignorance." 'Want of fixedness of purpose is but too generally a fault of tho young. In. deed, to 60 many employments aro the minds of the young ladies directed, that it is exceedingly difficult to preserve unity of dcrign. Hut one thing thoy should never lose sight of; the danger of neglecting to improve to the utmost, the priceless privi leges of their season of life. Then the mind comes forth in freshness and beauty. Cares have not pro occupied it nor con tradtctory trains of thought stamped upon it a desultory character. 'It turnetli na wax lo tho seal.' How often, ore wo un derbtand tho worth of this pliancy, does rigidity steal over Iho fibres of thought, and the buddings of character take a de terminate form, and wo arc young no more." MARIANA THE NEAPOLITANS. From tho French. Oh, what cannot a woman do when she is handsome when a deep resentment drives from her heart every joy but vong anco. How religiously alio treasures the memory of an affront. Liko a Fpring that gushes up and is lost in Ihosandofthe deserl she molts into tears until her eyes dry up, or death seals them, or she waits silently for the passing nf her enemy, like tho hye na of tho Egyptian tombs. Recently, a beautiful Noapolitano young lady arrived in Paris with a young man one of those who possess tho art of invoig ling the affections, and abusing iho con fitlcnco of females. He had said to Marinna, follow mo ; aban don thy old father for mine thv blue Ital ian sky for that of Franco ronounco for mo, the marriogolhat is proposed to yon For you the pleasures of tho world aro o pencil, and the puro dolights of lovo aro for you Mariana followed him. Ho had loft her many months alono, is. olatcd in tho midst of an immonso city, not daring to return to Italy, and cherishing tho deceptive hone that ho would como back to her. Ho had gone tho wretch! One morning ho had cast a look of disdain upon her who hod ministorod to ls pleas uro and loft her, with a smilo, What had ho to fear ? SI10 know not loren his real name. Tho fear of dishonor the lack of support, her woman's foeblncss, wnuiti drive her fooii from raris. 1 lie crime once well arranged, ho departed. l'oor Mariana ! At first she had no sus picion ; afterwards the horrible truth flash cd upon her mind w th all its force. Be. trayed, abandoned after having sacrificed all belravcd by him who then could be trusted ? She opened her window and looked out upon the passengers in the streets. No one stopped. Mariana then thought of death but a new idea occurred. She brought forth her dress purchased deco rations ; and, gathering new beauty from despair, went with other fotnalca of her country, went with other females of her country, lo balls, and to the theatre in suit and injury rankling at her heart, nnd a smile upon her lips. Seeking to bo in debted to chance alone for an opportunity of avenging herself upon a traitor, she watched with cagcrnc3 tho entrance of every person, yet recognized no one. She poured out before a piano, tho riches of her cultivated voice, and stifled tho sighs which almost suffl catcd her. Her appear ance at length was that of a mummy druss sod and decorated which one might put in motion, and which would bo a union of ex ternal beauty and internal death. A young man had noticed her with deep interest.and and followed closo as her shadow. He possessed a candid and noble soul, and he yielded that noble soul to love. He 6Worc ho would press to his bosom tho brilliant star which had thus dazzled him. He kept his word but repulsed for a long time, he began to despair of happiness, when Mariana proposed lo him to revenge her by the death of her deceiver, if ho could find him. Ho consented. Ho immediately commenced an indefa tigable search visited every place, ox amined all corners, made himself acquain ted with every grade of life In every place where bodies moved, where oyes looked, whero voices spake, they appeared, companions nf love and vengeance, willi a mission which the one incessantly recalled to the other. One day Amedce said to Mariana "My brother has reltirnod from his travels." " What brothor ?" " 1 ho only one I have. Adiffercnco of temper separated us for a long lime. He returns to marry to-morrow. The nup tials will be brilliant indeed. If you wish lo be a spectator of them, placo yourself against tho altar I shall see you and be happy." After the service he escaped, and joining his mistress, found her polo and cunvul sive "It is he !" said she. "Who ? ' '.You know well my enemy." "Wo to tne ! I comprehend the wholc--my brother " "Your brother ? the infamous wretch !" "Yes yes. And this morning, how af fectionatly ho pressed my hand." "I have pressed your hand upon my heart, and felt that it beat at the thought of injury and revenge." "Mariana, what do you require of me? It is a fearful thing." He fled but some hours afterwards, he changed his mind. He asked for his broth er, nnd coldly recounted to him all. The brother smiled at first--but afterwards pausing, ho asked who had told him that. "Your victim." "Are there, then, victims in these days ? Cherished and favored lovers aro so com mon, it is scarcely possible that otic could be missed." "Is it true, Gusiavus, that you refer to your error?" "Tho error was love's not mine: ho quitted me too soon." "Cold and contemptible railer. How if this woman, whom you thus contemn, had fallen into my hands", as it by Heavens de sign that a crmo should be committed be tween brothers ifshc had authorized mo lo rcvengo her of a disloyal wretch." "This is Inn mnM, c, "It is truo nevertheless." "What ! for the Italian wanton." "Wretch !" cried Mariana, as she rush ed into tho room. Gustavus rcceivod her with a gesture of contempt, which Amedco answered by a blow. Then agreeing on an hour and place of meeting ho dragged Mariana from the room. Both wero at the place appointcd-- uctcrinineu anu silent. Gustavus had a thoughtful air, usual in him-and Amedec held, with a trembling hand, his unloaded pistol, when suddenly a female form stood before them. "Tis enough," 6he said : "Each of you has done his duty. Bui innocent blood would bo an unacceptable offering to him from a dying wretch." "- Dying !" exclaimed buth. "Yes, Amcdeo I desired to seo wheth er you loved mo enough to sacrifice all to mo. To bo a witness of your brother's happiness, was impossihlo tome I have taken poison." 'Good hoaven .'",cried Amodco, "my hand nnd my life wero yours." "Yon would have despised me and in deed, I should havo deserved it. Your brother alono, had my affection. Bo re conciled let me join your hands Adieu Gustavus, bo happy with your young wife." SI10 died tho poor Mariana. Gustavus lost gaiety ; and as to Amodco ho never married and is often seen lean ing his forehead upon a namolnsa tomb, whoso sccrot alono ho knows.--U. S. Gas, THRILLING INCIDENT. (UV W. I'. COMSTOCK.) I passed up thonatural avonuo nnd camo out upon tho green. My feulings wero very poetical as I walked slowly towards tho door of tho village church. I ontercd. A popular prcachor was holding forth, und tho Ijttlo rpccling houso was crowded. Several persons wero standing up, and I soon iliepoycfej tlat. I must rctajn my por- pendicular pasition, as every seat was crowded. I however pressed up the aisle, until I had gained a position where I could have a fair view of tho faces of nearly all present. I soon perceived that I was an object of attention. Many of tho congre gation looked curiously at me, for I was a stranger to them all. In n few moments, however, the attention of everyone present appeared to bo absorbed in tho ambassador of grace, and I also began to take an in. interest in the discourse The speaker was fluent, and many of his flights wore sublime. The music of tho wood and the fragrance of health seemed 10 respond to his eloquence. Then it was no great stretch of tho imagination to fancy the white handed creatures around me, with their pouting tips and artless innocence were Doings ot a highor sphere, wnne my feelings were thus divided between the beauties and the blessings of tho two worlds, and wrapt in a sort ot poetical de votion, 1 detected one fair lass, with largo black eyes, stealing several glances at me in most animated character. I need nol describo the sensation experienced by i youth, when tho eyes of a beautiful wo man rest for a length of time upon his countenance and when he imagines him self to be an object of interest to her, and throw all Iho tenderness into my eyes which the scene, my meditations, and tho preacher's discourse had inspired in 'my heart. I doubted not that the fair young damsel possessed kindred feelings with my self that we were drinking together of the fountain of inspiration. How could it be otherwise? She had been born and nurtured amid these wild and romantic scenes and was made up of romance, of poetry, and tenderness. And then thought of tho purity of Women's love lier devotion, her truth. I only prayed that I might meet with her where we could enjoy a sweet interchange of sentiment. Her glances continued several times our eves met. My heart ached with rapture At length the benediction was pronounced I lingered about tho premises until I saw the dark eyed damsel set out for home alone on foot. "O that the customs of so cicty would permit for we were snrely one in soul ! Cruel formality that throws up a barrier between hearts made Tor each other?" Yot I determined to lake the same path. I followed after her. She looked behind, and I thought she evinced some emotion to recognize me as llio alr&n ger of the day. I quickened my pace, and she actually slackened bora at if to let me como up mlh her. "Noble young creature!" thought Her rlleM and warm heart is superior lo the thacklea of custom ! 1 at length come within a stone's throw of her. She suddenly halted and turned her face towards me. Aly heart swelled bursting. I reached the spot whero she stood. She began lo speak, and I took off my hat as it doing reverence to an angel "Are you a pedier?" "No my Joar girl, that is uot my occupa lion." "Well, I don't know," continued Bhe nol very bashfully, and eyeing me sternly "I thought when I saw you in tho meeting house, that you looked like the pedler who passed off' a pewter half dollar on me three weeks ago; and so I determined lo keep my eyes 011 you. mother John has got homo now, and ho says it ho catches the feller he'll wrinz hia neck for him and I an sure but you are the good-for-nothing ras cal alter all." Reador, did you ever take a shower batb ? LEGEND OF BRADY'S HILL. Samuel Brady, tho hero of the following adventure, was over six leet in height with light bluo eyes, fair skin, and dark hair: he was remarkably straight, athletic, bold and vigorous backwoods man, inured to all the toils and hardships of a frontier life, and had become very ob noxious to the Indians, from the numerous successfu. attacks on their war parties, and from shooting them in his hunting excur sions, whenever thoy crossed his path, or come within reach of his rifle; for ho was personally engaged in moro hazardous contests with the savages, than any other man west of the mountains, excepting Daniel Boone. Ho was in fact an "Indian hater," as many of tho borderers were. This class of men appear to havo been more numerous in this region, than in any other portion of the frontiers ? and this doubtless arose from the slaughter of UradocK s ocicai, end numerous murders and attacks on defenceless families that for many years followed that diastcr. Brady was also 11 very successful trapper and hunter, and took moro beavers than any of tho Indians themselves. In one of his adventurous trapping excursions, to the waters of Beaver river, or Mahoning, which in early days so abounded with the animals of this species, that it took its namo from this fuct, it so happened that the Indians surprised him in his camp and took him prisonor. To have shot or toma hawked him on tho spot, would have been hut a small gratification to that of satiating their roveugo by burning him at n slow firt'i in presence of all the Indiana nf their village. He was therefore taken alivo to thoir encampment, on tho west bank of Beaver rivor, about a milo and a half from its mouth. Aftor tho usual exultations and rejoicings at tho capture of a notod cnomy, and causing him to run tho gaunt, let, a firo was prepared, noar which Brady was placed, after being ptripped naked, and with his arms unbound. Previously to tying him to tho stako, a largo circle was formed around him, consisting of In dian men, womon and children, dancing and yolling, and ultoring all manner of threats and abuso that thoir small knotvl-lodge- of tho English could afford. Tho prisoner looked on those preparations for death, and on his savago foes, with 0 firm countenance and steady air, meeting all tlicjr threats with a truly savago fortitude In the midst of their dancing and yelling,' squaw of ono of their duels camo noar him with a child in her arms. Q,uick as thought, ond with intuitive prescience, 110 snaicucu 11 irom ucr nuu inrow 11 imu the midst of the flames. Horror struck at tho sudden outrage, tho Indians simul taneously rushed to rescue the infant from LIIU IIIU. Ill IIIU llliuoi yJ I lino wuiimoiiin Bradv darted from tho circle, overturning all that came in his way, and rushed into the adjacent thickets, with the Indians at HIS UCCIS. lie ascunucu uiu Biuup biuu ui the present hill, amidst a shower of bullets and darting down tho opposito declivity, secreted himself in the deep ravines and laurol thickets that about for several milos lo the west of it. His knowledge of the country and wondorful activity, enabled him to elude his enemies, and reach the settlements on tho south of the Ohio river, which he crossed by swimming. Tho hill, near whose base this adventure is said to havo happened, still goes by his name; and tho incident is often referred to by the traveller, as the coach is slowly drag ged up its side. Brady's leap. Uapt. many seems 10 have been as much the Daniel Boono of the north cast part of the valley of tho Ohio as tho other was of the soulb west, and the country iaequally full of traditionary legends of his hardy adventures and hair, breadth escapes, although ho has lacked a Flinllo chronicle his fame, and transmit it to posterity in tho glowing and bcauti ml language of that distinguished analist of the West. From undoubted authority, it seems the following incident actually transpired in this vicinity. Brady's resi denco was on Chairtier's Creek, on the south side of the Ohio, as before noted in this diary ; and being a man of herculean strength, activity and courage, he was gen. orally selected as the leader ot the hardy borderers in all their excursion into the Indian territory north of tho river. On this occasion, which was about the year 1780, a large party of warriors from the falls oil tho uuyahoga and the adjacent country, had made an inroad on the south side of the Ohio river, in tho lower part of what is now Washington county, but which was then known as the settlement of "Catfish Camp," after an old Indian of that name, who lived there when the whites first came into the couutry on the Monongahela river. This party had inur dered several families, and with tho "plun der" had recrosscd the Ohio before effec tual pursuit could be made. Bv Bradv a party was directly summoned, of his chosen followers who hastened on after them, but the Iudians having got 0110 or two days the start, he could not overtake them in lime to arrest their return to their villages. Near the spot where the town of Ravena now stands, the Indians separated into two parties, one of which went to the north, and the other west, lo the falls of the Cuyahoga. Brady's men also divided a part pursued tho northern trail, and i part with tbeir commander went to tho Indian village, lying on tho river in the present township of Northampton, in Pur tagc county Although Brady made his approaches with the utmost caution, the Indians ex pecting a pursuit, were on the lookout, and ready to receive him, with numbers four fold to that of Brady's party, whose only safety was in a hasty retreat, which, from the ardor of the pursuit, soon become a perfect flight. Brady directed his men to separate and oach one lo tako care of hue self; but the Indians knowing Brady, and having a most inveterate hatred and dread of him, from the numerous chastisements which he had inflicted upon them, left all the others, and with united strength pur sued alone. The Cuyahoga here makes a wide bend to the south, including a large tract of several miles of surface in the form of a peninsula; within this tract the pursuit was hotly contested. Tho Indians by extending their line to the right and left, forced him on the bank of the stream. Having, in peaceable times, often hunted over this ground with the Indians, and knowing overy turn of the Cuyahoga as familiarly as the villager knows the btreels of his own hamlet. Brady directed his course to the river, a spot where the whole stream is compressed, by the rocky cliffs, into a narrow channel of only twenty-two feet across tho top of tho chasm, although it is considerably wider beneath, near the water, and in height more than twice the number of feet above tho current. Through this pass tho water rushes like a race horse, chafing and roaring at the con finement of its current by the rocky chan nel, while, a short distanco abovo, the stream is at least forty yards wide. As he approached the chasm, Brady, knowing that life or death was in tho ef fort, concentrated his mighty powers and leaped tho stream at a single bound. It so happened that, in tho opposito cliff, the leap was favored by a low place, into which ho dropped, and grasping the bushes, he thus helped himself to ascend to the top ol tho cliff. Tho Indians for a few' moment, were lost in wonder and admiration, and beforo they had recovered their recollec tion, ho was half way up the side of the opposito hill, but still within reach of their rifles. They could easily havo shot him at any moment before, but being bent on ta king him alivo, for torture, and lo glut their long dolaycd rovongo, thoy foroboro the use of tho rifle; but now seeing him likely to escape, they all fired upon him; one bullet wounded him so as to prevent his progress. The Indians having to mako a considerable circuit beforo they could cross tho stream, Brady advanced a good distanco ahoad. His limb was growing stiff from tho wound, and as tho Indians gained on him, ho mailo for tho pond which bears his namo, and plunging in, swam un. dor water a considerable distance, and camo up under tho trunk of a largo oak, which had fallen into the pond. This, al though leaving only a small breathing placo to support lifo, still completely sheltered tra cing him by tho blood to tho wator, mado diligent search all round the pond, but find ing no signs of his exit, finally camo to the conclusion that he had sunk and was drowned. As they were at ono time stan. ding on the very tree beneath which he was concealed, Brady understanding their lantruarc. was verv triad to hear the re sult of their deliberations, and uftcr they had gone, weary, lame, nnd hungry, ho made good his retreat to his own home His followers also all returned in safety.- The chasm across which ho leaped is in sight of the bridge where wc crossed Cuy ahoga, and is known in ell that region by tho name of "Bradv's Leap." From the Cultiyator. HINTS IN REGARD TO THE CORD CROP. The experience of the last two years has been sufficient lo admonish us, that without duo precaution, our crops of Indian com will not pay tor the laoor ucstowed on tlio culture; and yet, that where duo attention has been paid to soil, manure, seed and har vesting, the return has been bountiful, not withstanding bad seasons. Having been uniformly successful, in the culture of this crop, wc feel justified in rcpeati g soma leading directions fur its management. Sou. It is in vain to attempt to raiso In dian corn, in this latitude, in seasons like the two last, upon stiff clays, or upon thin soils of a looser quality reposing upon a clay or hardpan subsoil, or without manuring for the crop; fur although llie plants will grow. tne pruuuci win not repay me expense 01 culture, unless they prducc a good crop and it costs but little more to lake care of a good than of a poor crop. The first aro not adapted to the crop at any season, un thin soils, having a level surface, tho rains settle and remain upon tho subsoil, whero tho roots penetrate tor tood, and causo a cool temperature in the early part of the season, when the plants stand most in need of warmth. If soils of either of the above kinds are employed, the land should be thrown into ridges, ten or twelve feet broad, in the direction of the slope of the field. But sandy and gravelly lands, and light loams, arc decidedly best for corn. The soil must be dry. Preparation. A young clover Icy, ono or two years old, is the best preparation for corn. No grass ley should be cross plough, ed fur this crop. If 1 he sod is tender, and the texture of the ml light, the ploughing and harrowing should immediately precede the planting. If the sod is old and tough, the ground should be ploughed tho preced ing autumn, and harrowed, and harrowed again, on the eve of planting. The furrow slice should nol be laid flat, as in this case the water, if in excess, reposes upon the surface, but lapped, so that each furrow forms a sort of under drain for tho surplus water to pais off'. The plough should bu set, where the soil will admit of it, lo turn a furrow six inches deep and eight or nine wide ; die work should be well done, no balks made, and the manure and grass com pletely buried, though an extra hand should bo required. The whole ground should be turned over, that it may be broken and rendered pervious to the lender roots of tho young plants. To cut and cover will not answer, as it breaks up and pulverizes but half of the soil. Manure. Unfermented stable and yard inanuro is decidedly preferable, if spread broadcast, as it always should be, and thor oughly buried with the plough. It keep the soil open, and permeable to heat, air and moisture, the agents of nutrition; it imparts warmth 10 I lie soil while undergoing tho process of fermentation, and it affords the best food for the crop. This wc know is downright heresy to some; but all wc ask of these sceptics is, that I hoy will make Ilia experiment, even on half an acre, and credit their own senses 111 the result, wo mean this hint particularly for our friends in Ot sego, Oneida and Madison, whose practico of yarding their dang in summer has here toforo excited our notice anil our wonder. Manure cannot bo applied lo any crop so profitably as to this, and should always bo used upon it. Variety. The twelve rowed com, called the Duttou corn, is tho earliest for field cul. lure, that we know of, and wc think it tho best. We have raised il sixteen years, and the crop has never been injured by tho early frosts, It has been widely dissemin ated, and seed, we presume, may be obtain ed in almost every county in the uorthcrn states. Preparation of sted. Oax practico is to turn upon tho sued th. evening before plan ting, water nearly in a boiling slate. This thoroughly saturates the seed, induces an incipient germination, and causes the com lo sprout quick. The next morning wo lake half a pint of tar for half a bushel of seed, put it into an iron vessel willi water, and heat it till tho tar is dissolved, and tho liquid becomes tar water. It is then turned upon the seed and well stirred. Il adheres to the grain , and gives it a thin transpar ent coaling. Tho tar nerves a double pur pose ; il prevents an excess of moisture en. tenng and rotting tho seed, if the weather or Bii it are cold and wet, and it prcsorvea H from tho depredations of birds, &c. whicli prey upon it. Aftor the seed is taken from tho steep, where wc never leavo it moro than IS hours, an much ground gypsum is mixed wilhil as will adhore to tho kcrnols. Tho gypsum prcvonts tho kernols adhoring; to ench other, and favors the aftor growtti of the crnp, Ashes or lime may bo substi tuted for gypsum. Tho seed should ba planted while it is moist, and immediately covered, It should not bo long exposed to tho sun. Distance in planting. ThU must depend upon tho variety cultivated, and tho rich ness of tho soil. Tho Dulton is of dwarf growth, nnd upon well manured land may be plantod at three feet each way, or threo by two and a half. Southern corn, and soma old varieties in tho north, grow taller, nml rnmiirn morn room As a curtain juan. Um 0f food is required lo bring ,pah ock (o maturity, poorly manured ftnnot f-.."1