Newspaper Page Text
"7T
i ;.
Jt Ht D HfiNDiisos, Editor
The U lion of the States and the States of the Union.
ASD .FbOPXICTOB.
VOLUME 1.
BOWLING GREEN, MO.' SATURDAY, APRIL, 2, 1842.
NUMBER 22.
lit SiSIci
C - c t - - . .
Remittance by Mall. "
.Fo iHt Post Mastee Gbheeal. 3rJ""A
Postmaster may enclose money In a letter to
the Publisher of a Newspaper, to pay the sub
gacription of a third person, and frank the letter,
' if written by himself." j, .
. . Terms of the "Radical,"
2S-IN VARIABLE, .S
The terms will be $2 to a club of three or
more subscribers, paid in advance. $2,50 to a
single subscriber, if paid within six months, and
$3 if not paid till after that period.
- S"N paper discontinued until H arrearages
f are paid, unless at the discretion of the Editor.
The following gentlemen are authorized to
. act as Agents lor tne "Kadical..
R.M. Kebciieval, Louisiana,
Mo.
- it
A. Mask, P. M. Frankford,
rIH.T. Kent, P. M. Clarksvillc,
C. E. Perkiss, P. M. Auburn,
J. H. Bhittos, Troy,
B. Gibson, P. M. Paynesville,
P. W. Oveblt, P.M. Shamrock,
J. D. S. Diiyde.v, Palmyra,
John Ralls, New London,
A. Hendkix, P.M. Spenccrburg.
J. Crosthewait, P. M. Madisonville,
W. H. Nicklin, New Hope,
W. T. Bond, P. M. Sugar Grove,
L. T. Musick, Hickory Creek,
E. Emerson, P. M. Louisville,
J. B. Wells, Warrenton,
II. Cave, Danville.
(C
AGRICULTURAL.
' Remarks on Seeds and Seedsmen Sow
ing Seeds, Causes of Failure, arc
The production of living plants fiom small
grain of seed dropped in the earth, is one
of the most wonderful and beautiful opera
tions of Nature. When examined by the
light of Science, it is found to be effected by
the combined agency of earth, air, moisture,
and heat; and to ensure success, it rs neces
sary that these four elements be combined
in due but different proportions, according
to the nature and habits of the different kinds
of seeds. Hence arises the difficulty ofcau-
ing some kinds to tegetnte; and theuncertnin
ty which gardeners generally feel respecting
many of their crops untiftlicy see the voting
plants appear. Hence, also, arises most of
the complaints which nre made to seedsmen,
and the censures which are unjustly cast up
on them by inexperienced cultivators.
Ia order to explain this subject, and with
a .view to lessen the evil, the proprietor of
the Rochester Seed Store has annexed the
testimony of several highly respectable and
successful cultivators in the country, and
tome accounts of their methods of preparing
- and sowing several of the most important
- kinds of seeds that are liable to fail with
careless management.
The Editor of the Albany Cultivator,
speaking on this general subject, says:
"Seeds often fail to grow; and the seeds
man ii often faulted, for vending bad seeds,
when the cause of their not growing is ow
ing to th? girdener or planter. To induce
germination, moisture, atmospheric air, .and
a certain temperature, are indispensable; and
it is also, requisite that light be excluded from
the seed, until the nutriment of the seed is
exhausted, or until the root can draw nour
. nhntent from the soil. The first effect of
the air, heat, and moisture upon the seeds is,
to change its properties toconvert its starch
into, sugar into a sort of milky pulp, the
. the proper food ot the embryo plant. If at
. this stage the seed becomes dry, its vitality
is believed to be destroyed; but if these a
genti are permitted to exert their influence,
the contents of the seed swell by degrees,
. and the first point of the future root having
formed, breaks through the shell in a down-
- ward direction, and about the same time the
first point of the future stem comes forth in an
- upward direction. The presence of the air,
heat, and moisture are as indispensable to
'to growth of the plant, as they are to the
germination of the seed.
.Now it. often happens, that when seeds
are planted in fresh stirred ground, or when
(he soil is moist, they undergo . the incipient
progress of fermentation, and the earth not
being pressed upon them, and dry weather
eatu'mg, the moisture is abstracted, and the
.seeds perish. Too much moisture is also of-
- tea destructive to the vital principle of seeds
.' and others again are burned too deep to
be vivified by solar and atmospheric : influ
ence. The first-object in planting, there
fbre,'should be to place the seed just so farun-
is
derthe surface, and so to cover it with earth,
as shall barely secure to it a constant supply
of moisture. There are many seeds, as of
the carrot, parsnip, orchard grass, &c.' which
if not previously steeped, or the soil well
pulverized and pressed upon " them, fail o
grow for want of moisture. Hence, in-sowing
orchdid grass, it is found prudent to
spread it upon a floor and sprinkle it with wa
ter, before it is sown, and to pass a roller
over the ground after the seed is sown; and
hence, in light garden mould, it is advisable
to press with the kpe or spade, the earth up
on all light seeds after they are sown." .
On Sowing flower Seeds.
David Thomas, an experienced and very
successful Florist remarks: N. G. Far.
Vol. I, p. 56.
For large seeds like the Bean or the Tea,
a coarse soil is well adapted, as they can
force their way to the surface from any
moderate depth; but small seeds require dif
ferent treatment; and we lay it down as a
safe rule, the finer the seed, the finer should
be the soil.
How does Nature, exemplifying Supreme
Wisdom, sow her most delicate seeds? She
scatters them on the shady ground, trusting
to the rain or the Irost to cover them, (of
course slightly.) and they germinate before
the sun has acquired power enough to scorch
the:. The dust-like seeds of the Orchis
and Cypripendium sometimes grow in beds
of damp moss.
Common garden loams, whether clayey or
saudy, is much improved by a dressing of
vegetable earth from the woods, well mixed
before planting. If prepared in the proceed
ing autumnx and pulverized by the frost, all
the better.
Such a soil is favorable to seeds of almost
any kind, but essentia I to the finer and more
delicate sorts. Tlve preparation of the soil
alone, however, is not enough. Fine seeds
may be smothered if covered more than from
one-eightli to half an inch deep; and their
short roots may be parched if exposed to
the sun except in morning and evening. To
a fine soil, therefore, we must add the pro
tection of shail; and in time of drought, a
regular supply of tnoitlure. If the seeds are
sown in an open border, a sprinkling of wa
ter in the evenings is best, but carefully ab
stain from applying so much as" will bake the
ground."
On Preparing and Sowing Onion Seed
W. HiSLEr-(iVr. G. Far. Vcl. 2 F. 38
says:
"First, soak the seeds in water from six to
twenty-four hours some seeds being slower
to admit moisture than others, is the differ
ence in the time required. After soaking,
drain off the water, and mix the seeds with
a sufficient quantity of earth to absorb the
moisture remaing on the seeds; stir them of
ten that they may vegetate evenly, and keep
them in a moderate decree of warmth and
moisture until they are sprouted, when they
are ready to put into the ground. If the
weather should be unfavorable, put the seeds
in a cool place, which will check theirgrowth
It was left in that situation until tho time
of sowing. In April, as soon as the sou was
sufficiently dry, the ploughing was commen
ced, and the second day, at night, the sow
ing was finished, with seed prepared asjbe
fore stated. In one uxek the onions were upt
rows were soon visible nearly twenty rods,
and no weeds yet appeared. The operation
of stirring the soil with rakes and hoes was
then commenced, and the weeds were not
suffered to irrow during the summer, fit is
a mistaken notion that it is not time to hoe a
garden until it is green with weeds). The
first of September the onions were harvest
ed, and the product was over two thousand
bushels of fine onions from two and a half
acres." '
Erom the N. Y. Journal of Commerce,
Making Candles
The season of the year has arrived for fam
ilies in the country to make up their candles
fer the year, and as much trouble and extra
labor is occasioned by want ot sniii,i win, in
order to enable the people to obviate this, give
some brief directions for dipping candles.
The tallow, when melted, should be ladled
into a wooden vessel of convenient width and
depth, which has been previously heated by
filling it with boiling water for an hour or
more. Fill the vessel within an inch of the
top with melted tallow, and; keep ii at that
height by adding hot water or hot tallow. By
this means the candles will be kept at a full
size at the top, and not taper off. to a point,
as is often seen with country! candles.
The tallow, when used for dipping can
dles, should not be too hot,' - A temperature
that will allow the ffngefto be dipped in
without burning, is sufficiently hot, and at
this temperature the candles will take on the
tallow very fast. ' The wick- should be low
ered into the melted "tilVv gradually, and
should be lifted out of the'taitow so slowiy
that when the bottom of the candles are clear
from the surface of the melted tallow, no tallow-will
run off them. When th candles
are raised quite out of the melted tallow, the
tallow will run off the candles in a stream,
whereas if the candles arc raised out slowly,
not a particle of tallow will fall from the can
dles. A few trials will satisfy any person in
this matter. If the tallow is boiling hot, the
wick will not take on the tallow to any con
siderable extent. When the candle are rais
ed out of the tallow rapidly, the candles will
be large at the bottow, and the tallow will
extend below the wick, so that when burnt in
candlesticks a piece of the tallow will have no
wick in it; and therefore for burning will be
useless. Where persons have no suitable
wooden vessel, an iron vessel will answer
for a dipping vessel. When tallow has been
thoroughly melted over the fire, should it be
dirty or impure, throw into it while hot.
small quantity of finely powdered alum and
in a short time a scum will be seen rising to
the surface, in appearance like dirty frcth.
Skim UiB off as it rises. This scum will rise
for half an hour or more. These directions
are plain and easily complied with, and one
trial will be satisfactory. Persons, bv follow
ing these directions, wii save more than one
half the usual labor of making candles.
speak from aboundant experience, arid there
fore-with full confidence. E: M."
The Love of Flowers.
"Who does not love a flower?
Its hues are taken from the liuht
Which suinmmer's suns fling pure & bright
in scattered ami prismatic hues,
That smile and shine in dropping dews,
Its fragrance from the sweetest air,
Its from all that's liiiht and fair
Who does not love a flowerf '
"The taste for flowers, every where increa
sing among uvis an omen of good. Let us
adorn our parlors, dooryards, yards and road
sides with trees, shrubs, and flowers. How
delightful they appear to the passer by.
How favorable we think of the person whose
yard and garden is decorated with 6hrubs
and flowers. When we view a dwelling.
the doors and windows of which are adorn
ed with flowers, we associate the females
within with all that, is neat gentle, puic.
cnarming, lovely and mined. &aw you
ever a course, ill-bred, awkard family, where
a taste for flowers was displayed? We trow
not."
MISCELLANEOUS.
From Frazer's Magazine for January."
The Setting Sun.
FROM THE GKRMAN OF JEAN PAUE WC1ITER.
"Give me a great thought," said Herder,
in ms sicKncss, xo ms son, "tnat i may re
fresh myself."
Gottreich Hartmann lived with his father,
an aged clergyman, in the little village of
Heim. Happy were the declining years of
the priest; for when his strength failed, his
son stepped into his place and fulfilled his
duties; and truly edifying were the homilies
of the young preacher to the heart of the
oIdman. . .
Young Gottreich had a poetic soul; and
the bloom of his youthful promises was
not, like that of too many young poets, was
ted and trampled under foot in his manhood,
butcrowued with . sweet fruit. His father
had felt the inspiration of poetry in his youth,
but had not a favourable occasion for un
folding his powers, since, in his early days,
fathers thought their sons might find far bet
ter pasturage in the humble vale and dull flat
of the reading-desk and professor's chair
than on the peaks of, Parnassus. But the
soul of poetry, thus repressed, only worked
the mere powerfully within, mingled itself
with all his thoughts and deeds, and colored
all his life. Beauteous was the situation
of the old priest; every , thing good was
always about him; the twin sisters. Reli
gion and Foetry, made their dwelling with
him.
So lived the father- and son together; and
in addition to filial and parental love, a close
and peculiar friendship grew betweenthem.
The f.ither was refreshed to see not only the
soul of his youthful poetry new-glowing in
the son, but also the soul of his faith. Alas
it has been the case that many a pious father,
in receivin his son from the university, has
found in his house a'youngahti-cVrist, pre
prared to despise and destroy the faith held
dear so long at the old man's heart. It was
not so with Gottreich; though, like all others,
he had run his short random course of free
thinking in the high school, he came home
with th the faith of his fathers warm in his
bosom. So the old priest found his own
Christian heart freshly beating in the breast
of his son, justifying the convictions of a Ion
life and the love of a father.
If it be painful to differ in thought from
one we love in our heart, to trun away the
head from one to whom the heart is ever in
clined, it is doubtly sweet at once to love
and believe in fellowship with one in whom
our better self is sustaind and perpetuated
with youthful energy. So like a fair starry
night, where no star sets but one rises to shine
,n ,ts I,lace
I Gottreicl bad a paradise about him in which
j he held the post of gardner for his father, en
'jvinS aM it4 fruits the more he labored for
I the old - man's gratification. Every Sabbath
brought him new delight, in a new homily
prepared chiefly for the purpose of gladdening
his father's heart. He spent upon his homi
lies so much poetic beauty and warm-glow
ing power of language, that . he seempd to
strive to delight (he still poetic mind of his
father almost more than to enlighten and ed
ify his congregation. ..A,t the. same time the
younge priest knew very well that higher
presumptions on the part of the preacher in
favor of the understanding and sympathy of
the people are far better than the bold itera
tion of common places so prevalent in the
pulpit; for men only learn to climb by at
tempting something thev have not vet clim
bed.
The moistened eye of the old priest, the
hands now and then, during the serman, fol
aed kin silent prayer, made lor tne young
preacher every Sunday an Ascention festiv
al; and in the quiet vicarage brooded over
joys little known to the rude world. Those
who imagine the preparation and delivery of
a coures of homilies throughout the year to
he a dull, dry task, should have heard the fa
ther and son speaking of the las', or consult
ing about the next, discourse for the little
congregation at Heim.
And now to the blessed little society was
added a new and worthy member- This was
J usta, a young maiden of considerable weal th,
an orphan, who had left a neighboring town
to find repose and happiness in the little vil
lage where Gottreich and his father lived:
"Iive, to make poor mortals blest,
Bids two hearts together glow;
Yet it is not perfect rest!
Three together make it so,"
Two may be happy together, but three
may be still happier; for the two may talk
and expatiate of all the excellencies of the
third; and so the harmonic triad of friendship
will admit of variations never ceasing, never
tiring. This happy third person wa3 found
ia the spirited young maiden, Justa; for after
she had seen the enthusiastic fncj of the
young poet and preacher, and heard some
four or five of his lent homilies, she gave
him her heart; and only reserved her hand
till the disturbances of the country (for it
was the time ot our war with the Freneh)
should subside into peace. I wish it were
in the pwer of my hand to paint the beauty
of that continual May-day life that bloomed
all about the lowly church tower at Heim,
under the fostering hand of the fair J usta. .
Piety and sacred beauty were here sweetly
wedded together, as the Church cast its holy
shadow over the little garden where the hap
py three would meet in the evening, while the
sky, like the dome of a temple, hung over
them. It is pleasant to think that, iq many
lowly village and unheard-of dwelling,
some such isolated Eden in the world is now
unfolding itself, and' it may be so; though
none but poets know it, for the gentle flow
ers of true joy ever delight to hide tbeiji
selve in thickest foliage. Gottreich lived so
blissfully in his hidden paradise, that be feari
ed to speak of his joys except in the thank
givings that fillecLup the greater part of his
prayere. : . .
"Jotning reminds a thoughtful youth to
much of the last hour of lifeAis ihe, fairest -' r
and most intensely joylul hour of life; for !
those who are full, of thoughts, and feelings 'J
of love and joy must alas think of-'death.' So ; Tr. T
in the fresh delight of Ufey.lllayHDwriu,..;:.;;;
GSttrelch'cbuTd not avow" thinking thVt Wl i
morning-star must obc day shine as. hii eve " '
ning-star. Said he to himself: MNow Es"aH
clear and brilliant before me -tb "beauty .
and happiness of life; the splendor of Ae
universe; the glory of the Creator
the worth and the power 'of the human
heart: the constellations of eternal truths;
the lustrous heaven of ideas I see and fee)
all clearly, surely, warmly ;" but as after Ae'
day comes the night, so, when I liem th
fading hour of life all these things may be
overshadowed in the twilight, and hardly re
cognised even by the eyes of faith and love;
for when we draw near to heaven, deatn.
holds the inverted telescope to the weary
eye, and nothing, h seen through it but- a
drear void space, stretching far away be
tween us and all we love. But is this mere
optical deception to be taken for the truth f
Do not now my youthful powers, in their
joyous unfolding, seize the truth better and
surer than I can when alt around seems fa
ding eye and weary heart of old age?fc 1
know very well that is the truth which I see
and feel now; let me mark it well and re
member it, that the light of the morning may
have a fair reflection in, the eventide." -So
he occupied the fair May-morning- in -recor
ding his glowing words, under the title,
"Recollections of the fairest Hours to cheer
the latest Hours to cheer the Latest Hours
of Life." ' '
So the happy-triad of love continued for
a while, till the war broke out and its first
thunders so roused the heart of Gottreich
from happy dreams that he become a trans
formed man. The same fire of enthusiasm
which had made him a poet now made him
a soldier; but now, no longer contented
to play with its own beauty,, would seize
some certain object, and work for some cer
tain purpose. The young priest scarcely
dared to breathe his wishes to his father, but
entrusted the secred intention with Justa,
who demurred on account of the olds man's
feeling?. But the old clergyman, mastered
by the same patriotic ardor that had seized '
his son, blessed him for ha holy pmpose,
and cheerfully bade him 'go and fight the bat
tles of his country: I;" said he, "will see to
the homilier, till Heaven shall restore peace
to our wounded land."
So Gottreich went to his exercises is a-
common soldier; and .whenever he had op
portunity, used his powers as a preacher to
sustain the courage of his comrades. Ho
closed his campaign not without considera
ble service, though somewhat to his disap
pointment, without a wound. And now, as
peace again brooded over the rescued' coun
try, Gottreich travelled homeward through v.
townsand villages, full of activity,' rejoicing ''
in all he saw around him, but knowing that
few were so happy as himself. ' As he pur
sued his way, he delighted himself with tho '"'
thought that at once he would take, the bur-
den of his duties from his father's mind, and
the hand of Justa to make it light uponr his
own. As he drew nign nis native place,
and saw the hills that rose a little beyound
Ieimrhe could not avoid musing over his lit
tle manual of sweet Rac&dections;" and
devised some new glowing chapters on the
reunion of friends.
A gentle thunder-storm leathered over his
ead, and large drops fell to refresh the thirs
ty ground; and the well-known peasantry,
as he passed by, rejoiced at once in the wel
come shower and their returning friend.--And
now the litttle tower of Heim seemed
to grow up out of the earth as he approached, -and
as he stepped down into the bosom of
the vale, the parsonage greeted his view, and
all windows shown in the evening glow. -At
each he looked for the expectant Justa;
but all 'was still about the house. As he
entered and found the lower rooms empty,
a slight noise directed his attention to his
father's chamber; and 'entered softly tho
"3
