in contemplating its present agricultural state, to cast our eyes back, with mixed emotions, on those former days of its glory, when the cultivation of the soil, formed the pride and the enjoyment of its most prominent statesmen and warriors.

Italy, in its agricultural character, has been divided into three regions; the first, comprising the great plain traversed by the Po, bounded by the Alps on the west and north, by the Appenines on the south, and by the Adriatic on the east, to which the general name of Lombardy may be given; the second, extending on the south declivity of the Appenines, from the frontier of France, to the borders of Calabria, which comprehends the Tuscan provinces; the third, containing those pastoral regions which take the designation of the Maremma, from their neighborhood to the seacoast.

The Lombardy division is one of the most prolific in the world. The soil is a rich alluvial mould, mixed with gravel in the neighborhood of the mountains, and reaches to an unknown depth. The great lakes at the foot of the Alps, serve as reservoirs, from which, and from the rivers which they feed, canals for irrigation are cut on a regular system, skilfully contrived to distribute the water over the surface of the ground. By this means, the natural fertility is prodigiously increased, and an immense population is supported. In the country between Cremona and Lodi, the culture of corn gives place, in a great measure, to pasture. It is the richest part of the Milanese. The grass is chiefly clover, which is cut four times a year, and serves for the food of cows, from which is produced the cheese so well known over all Europe by the name of Parmesan. To make this cheese, the milk of at least fifty cows is necessary; and when one farm does not supply so large a quantity, the farmers unite in societies for the purpose. When the land has lain in grass, for fourteen years, the crop of clover begins to fail, and the ground is ploughed up; after which, for five years, a regular succession of crops takes place; consisting, the first year, of hemp, followed by leguminous plants; the second, of oats; the third, of wheat, followed

by legumes; the fourth, of maize; and the fifth, of wheat. The ground is then left to itself, and is immediately covered with herbage. The simple enumeration of this kind of rotation is sufficient to indicate the remarkable fertility of the soil. I may add, that no manure is applied while the land is under the plough; but that, while it lies in grass, it receives a top-dressing every three years.

The Tuscan territory resembles, in many particulars, that of Lombardy; and the system of irrigation is carried on here also with equal regularity on the low grounds, while, on those elevations, which rise above the reach of the water, vines and olives are cultivated with great success. This country is watered by the Arno, and is said, by M. Chateauvieux, to be the most delicious, perhaps, on the face of the earth. "There is not a single spot remaining of natural turf," says this author, "nor a meadow, where the husbandman, in collecting the produce, receives only the spontaneous gifts of Nature. We do not find a single thicket of natural wood, or a tree planted by the hand of Nature. All is planted out and dressed by the hand of man. His presence and his works are seen every where; and it is only in the hills, which bound the horizon, that you discover a portion of those great dominions, over which Nature still preserves her empire."

Amidst all this profusion and beauty of the vegetable world, however, it is distressing to think, that the cultivators of the soil are in a state of abject poverty. M. Sismondi, who mentions this fact, accounts for it from the unjust and impolitic exactions of the landowners, who have neither sympathy with the lower orders, nor sufficient enlargement of mind, to perceive that a more liberal system would insure their own ultimate advantage.

The third agricultural division of Italy, differs most materially from the other two, in its being affected with a strange and unaccountable taint in the atmosphere, called malaria, which renders it unfit for the permanent habitation of human beings. This singular tract, extends along the shore of the Mediterranean, from Leghorn to Terracina, and reaches inland, as far as the first chain of the Appenines. Its length is therefore two hundred and ninety

two geographical miles, and its breadth, in the Agro-Romana, where it is greatest, between thirty and forty of those miles. The disease, to which this malignant influence gives rise, and which attacks the inhabitants in summer and autumn, is an intermittent, or an ague of the worst kind; not, however, arising from the miasmata of marshes, or other known causes of a similar disorder, since the greater number of places, where it prevails, are dry, airy, and elevated.

This dreadful visitation is said, by the Italian writers, to have made its first appearance, contemporaneously with the plague in the sixteenth century, since which time, it has been gradually increasing in extent and inveteracy. That large tract of country which was once so populous and flourishing, has now become a wilderness, in which are to be found scarcely any human inhabitants except a race of wandering shepherds, possessing nothing but their cattle, and emigrating with them, according to the seasons, from the hilly to the level country.

The cause of this infliction is still a mystery, and there are no indications of its presence in external nature. "The sky," says Chateauvieux, "is as pure, the verdure as fresh, the air as tranquil, as in the most healthy region. The aspect of all the elements is such as should inspire the most perfect confidence; and it is impossible to express the horror which one experiences on discovering that this is all deception, that he is in the midst of dangers marked by no sign, and that, with the soft air he is breathing, he may be inhaling a poison which is to destroy him.”

This invisible pest seems to be of a nature to increase itself, as it is said to become more malignant in proportion as the country becomes more depopulated. If this be true, there would appear to be no assignable limit to its ravages save the mountains or the sea. It is certain, at least, that it has been steadily progressive in its influence, and has already even invested the Eternal City,' as Rome has been proudly but falsely called, and has found its way within the very walls.

SIXTH WEEK-FRIDAY.

CLOTHING.-ITS PRINCIPLE.

THE necessity or comfort of procuring a covering to the body, from the vicissitudes of the weather, is the second principle formerly alluded to, by which the Creator calls forth and exercises the faculties of his rational creatures, and forms a new division of the subject. Every other inhabitant of the earth, above the grade of insects, which are governed by laws of their own, comes into the world with some contrivance in the shape of clothing, beautifully adapted to its nature, and generally altering with the season of the year, so as more effectually to guard its body from the injurious effects of the heat or the cold which prevails. But man is destined to procure his own clothing; and this, which at first sight appears a defect, is in reality the source of many blessings.

The human race were to be diffused over the whole habitable earth, to be inhabitants of all climates, and of all localities. Their clothing, had it pleased the Creator to afford them a natural cover, would have required to be so constituted, as to change with the peculiar situation in which they were placed, so as to serve as a protection, at one time, from the burning heats of the tropics, and at another, from the chilling breath of the polar skies. This might, indeed, have been effected, and would have only been a further extension of the law which exists among the lower animals. But something more, would have been wanting. Man is a wandering animal. In the pursuit of those objects, to which he is urged by his necessities or his pleasures, he has to traverse all climates; at one time, braving the storms of the north; at another, fanned by the gentle breezes of the temperate regions; at another, still, melting under the direct rays of an equatorial sun; and all this he has, in a commercial age, frequently to undergo, with the rapidity which art has given, or may yet give, to the means of transportation by land and sea.

It would, doubtless, still be easy for Creative Power and Wisdom to contrive some kind of natural dress, capable of accommodating itself to all these sudden and extensive changes; but, for wise purposes, it has been otherwise ordered. Man has been destined to suit his covering to his own convenience.

Thus his activity is called forth. He finds a new want that must be supplied. He may be placed in the midst of abundance of food; the cocoa-nut and the banana-tree may pour their stores for his subsistence; but even in the climate where these bounties of Nature exist, this is not enough. He may live, but he feels discomfort, unless he discover some mode of sheltering himself from the excessive heats of the day, and the cold dews of the night. He cannot always be under the shade of a rock or a tree. It is desirable that he should have a permanent covering for his body, to shield him from all the changes to which he may be subjected in the open air. Here is a motive to exertion. The want must be supplied by industry; and, however limited the sphere of that industry may be, when man is in the savage state of which we now speak, it is something to have an object in view, which teaches the pleasure of exercise, and rewards activity.

His ingenuity, as well as activity, is called into exercise. Clothing is not to be found ready prepared. Even the bark of the paper-mulberry and the bread-fruit tree must undergo a rude manufacture, before it be fit for use. A simple covering to part of the body, is all that the rudest tribes affect; but yet, among them, this is distinguished by degrees of excellence, and is coveted for its superior qualities. Various principles are called into action by the same want, further developed, in more advanced stages of society; the love of possessing, the desire of distinction, a taste for what is beautiful, an admiration of what is ingenious, a delight in personal indulgence, a generous regard for the interests of society; and all these principles stimulate the inventive faculties, and promise a reward to the skill and industry of the manufacturer. Thus a foundation is laid, in the human mind, for improvement in this as well as other arts.