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therefore ought to sing, sit silent in the house of God, quite willing that this work should be done for them by others. It is a fact, too, beyond question, however strenuously it has been denied, that many persons, from a defective ear, or voice, or both, are unable to join in this part of worship, and can do no more than make melody in their hearts. Still there is a very large portion of those who make up ordinary Sunday congregations to whom this collection will be very acceptable, and there are many from whom it will take every possible excuse for silence during this portion of Divine service. The hymns for which the tunes are here given are precisely the same as those found in the ordinary church hymn book, and the tunes have been selected from a variety of sources by a judicious committee, to whom great praise is due for the pains-taking manner in which their work has been executed. The indexes are very complete, and the accuracy of the typography is creditable to all concerned. (Carlton & Porter.)

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Lights and Shades of Missionary Life is the title of a duodecimo volume of travels, sketches, and incidents, during nine years spent in the region of Lake Superior, by WA-ZAH-WAH-WADOONG, which is, by interpretation, The Yellow Beard, and, in our own vernacular, JOHN H. PITEZEL. It is printed for the author, at the Western Book Concern, and has several wood engravings. The reader will find in it much to excite an interest for the spiritual welfare of the red men of the forest, and nothing to mitigate his indignation at the general treatment they have received at the hands of the United States government. It is for sale by Carlton & Porter.

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Jane Hardy. By T. S. ARTHUR. Mr. Arthur is an unwearied story-teller; and his tales, though evincing no great scope of imagination, nor any remarkable power of invention, are always readable, and generally enlisted on the side of sound morality. "Jane Hardy" is made up of every-day materials-things that may have happened just as the writer relates them, and yet it is a fiction that sustains the interest of the reader to the end. The heroine was married to a man who was self-opinionated and overbearing, and in the course of the story she becomes a maniac. Treated with unwearied care and tenderness by her daughter, her reason is restored. Mr. Hardy becomes convinced of his ill conduct, and begins, as his wife is about to die, to realize that he loves her. We are not sure of the truth of "Jane's" theory as she

unfolds it to Mr. Hardy upon her death-bed, but copy it, as poetical, at least, if not true. We know there will be a separation between the righteous and the wicked, but are not aware that there is any warrant, other than that derived from mediums and spirit-rappers, for the classification of characters and the formation of distinct communities in the abodes of the blessed.

"We shall speedily meet again,' said the husband, as he sat alone with her, holding her small shadowy hand in his, just as the twilight began to dawn its dusky curtains around them. His voice trembled; for he had spoken in answer to her remark that in a very little while she must pass away.

I know not how that may be,' she said, very quietly, and fixing her large, glittering eyes upon his face. In the world to which I am going the laws of association are not as the laws of this world, Jolin.' "O, Jane! what am I to understand by this ? There was grief in the tones of his voice.

"Only,' she replied, that in the life to come, spiritual qualities conjoin. They will be near each other who are alike, and those distant from each other who are unlike, in their life and their affections. The attraction or repulsion will be mutual. But God only knows our internal states, by which the future is determined. If it is well with us as to these, we need have no concern.'

"Mr. Hardy felt the words of his wife like sharp thrusts of glittering steel. How calmly she spoke! What a placid, almost angelic expression was in her countenance as she talked of the laws of conjunction and dissociation in the future life-laws which, if they really prevailed, would hold them apart forever! 'I know not how that may be. In the world to which I am going, the laws of association are not as the laws of this world.' Such was her calm, even-toned answer to his almost tearfully uttered assurance of a meeting after death. It was thus she removed from under his feet the frail support on which they rested as the waters of sorrow began to roar around him. He covered his face with his hands, and sat silent for many


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"Can you not forgive me the past? O, Jane! If, through blind error, I wronged you once, have I not sought in all possible ways to make atonement?' Mr. Hardy looked up and spoke with a sudden energy.

"A shadow dimmed the face of his wife, and tears sprung to her eyes.

"We have both need of forgiveness, John,' she replied; I, perhaps, most of all. We cannot conceal from ourselves, if we would, that the current of our lives did not run smoothly at the beginning, nor for a long time afterward. The cords that bound us together were not silken and light as gossamer to bear, but heavy and galling as links of iron. I blame myself in many things. I was not a true, self-forgetting, loving wife to you, John. I did not make your home a happy one. I struggled, and fretted, and made myself wretched, when I should have thought of your comfort, and striven, in fulfillment of our marriage vows, to make you happy.'

"Dear Jane! say no more. Your words pierce me like arrows!' Mr. Hardy laid a finger upon her lips. O, if the scales had sooner fallen from mine eyes!'

"If I had helped you to remove them,' said Mrs. Hardy, almost mournfully, both would have suffered less. But I was young and weak from years of indulgence by the tenderest of fathers. I did not comprehend your wants and wishes, and you did not understand me. I never meant to act in opposition, and never did, willfully and perversely. I never intended to give you pain. But could not hide all signs of anguish, when your words were accusations. Nor could I always look smiling and cheerful when my heart was aching. I say this now only that you may do me justice in your thoughts; for I would not have you think of me, after I am gone, as one who designedly, and for the purpose of gratifying an evil purpose, made the home cheerless which she had promised to fill with sunlight. God gave me power afterward to rise above the weakness of my nature; and I was able to be to you, my husband, all that I desired to be from the beginning.. But the past is past, and I would turn to it only for justice, not in order to wound. Forgive me for what I have now said, if it has given you any pain. I cannot, in parting with you, perhaps

forever, leave on your mind the impression that I ever meant anything but to be a true wife.'

"Forever, Jane! forever! O, do not say that word! Let me hear your lips recall it!" And Mr. Hardy bent over her with a countenance full of anguish.

"In this world, where hearts are hidden things, and woman must believe where she cannot see-must take loving words and acts in full confidence that they are true words and acts-it too often happens, that her lot is one of wretchedness. The fair exterior of manhood, so attractive in her eyes, often proves to be a false exterior. She finds nothing in his affection or his principles with which she can truly harmonize; and, though she may live with him dutifully, and even in some appearance of love, yet is there no true union of the heart-no marriage in the higher sense.

"With such death is an eternal disjunction. How could it be otherwise in a world where similitude conjoins, and dissimilitude separates? And this law of attraction and repulsion, my husband,' continued Mrs. Hardy, speaking very earnestly, is a merciful law. If there is an error here it will not be perpetuated when we pass up higher. Of one thing we may be certain; the quality of our spiritual life in this world will determine our associations in the life beyond;

and in heaven we shall desire none other.'

"Mr. Hardy had bowed his head while she was speaking. It was some moments before he looked up. When he did so his face was paler, his eyes were heavy, and his countenance wore a drooping aspect. What sharp arrows of conviction were in the words which had been spoken by his wife! Steadily he gazed into her face, wonderingly and sorrowfully, while every moment the conviction grew stronger that their separation was likely to be an eternal one; that her pure spirit would ascend higher than he ever could, and claim companionship with spirits of more godlike nature."

We have been highly gratified by a perusal of the Fourth Annual Report of the Young Men's Christian Association of San Francisco, Cal. It is a good omen for the future of that rising star of the Pacific, that in the principal city of the state such an association has been formed, and is prosecuting its great work with zeal and success. The society has a total membership of three hundred and seventy, the increase during the past year being one hundred and ten. In connection with a good library, they have a well-supplied reading room, open to all who choose to avail themselves of its advantages. Essays and lectures on various subjects have been read at the monthly meetings of the association, and the report contains an admirable address on "Christianity the basis of universal brotherhood," by the REV. DR. ANDERSON.

Previous pages of the NATIONAL bear merited testimony to the philanthropic labors of GAL LAUDET, the devoted and successful teacher of the deaf and dumb. An admirable portrait is given in our number for November, 1856. It is, indeed, the best likeness we have seen. It is followed by a brief sketch of the good man's life and labors, bringing them down to his death, which occurred in September, 1851. Recently, the Mcssrs. Carter have published a volume, (18mo., pp. 440,) entitled The Life and Labors of the Rev. T. H. Gallaudet, LL. D., by REV. HEMAN HUMPHREY, D.D., of which it is sufficient to say that it has been, in its preparation, evidently a labor of love, and that it contains sermons, addresses, and letters from the pen of Gallaudet, with all the more interesting incidents connected with his useful life.

A Discourse on occasion of the death of Wilbur F. Noyes, a student of the Wesleyan University, by the REV. DR. TRUE, is above the

average of similar tributes to departed worth, both as respects the character of the deceased and the style of the sermon. Mr. Noyes was twenty-three years of age, amiable in all the relations of life, a good scholar, and a Christian. He died the death of the righteous, and his memory is precious. The passage selected for the text of the sermon is that difficult one in the Epistle to the Romans, viii, 19 to 23. The preacher adopts, in the main, the interpretation of Wesley, and argues that the apostle is here speaking of the entire animal world, rational and irrational, and that the brute creation are destined to a resurrection from the dead and to a happy existence in a future state. There are other topics incidentally touched upon, to which exceptions may be taken by critical readers, while even the most captious will admire the clearness of the author's style and his felicity of illustrations.

We are indebted to our friend, Dr. D. MEREDITH REESE, of this city, for a copy of his admirable report on Infant Mortality in Large Cities. We could wish that a copy of this pamphlet might find its way into every family in the land. The facts here brought to light are absolutely appalling, and the remedies suggested for this state of things ought to be universally disseminated. The author tells us, and his statement is confirmed by official statistics, that the mortality of infants under one year old, greatly exceeds that occurring between one and five years of age; while the mortality under two years is nearly four times that between two and five years. Moreover, the number of children who die under five years of age, is greater than the whole mortality between five and sixty years of age! Hence the perils of life during the five years of infancy are greater than during the fifty-five years subsequent to that age. And the doctor pertinently asks:

"Why should infant mortality in American cities be greater than even in Paris! eight per cent, above Glasgow, ten per cent. above Liverpool, and nearly thirteen per cent. greater than in London? Why should it be increasing here and diminishing there? And this, too, when statistics abundantly show the mean duration of human life to be greater by three and a half per cent. in our American cities, taken collectively, than in the cities of Europe?"

Several reasons are given; among others,

"Mismanagement of infancy, by parents, nurses, or doctors, in feeding and physicking the newly born; depriving them of the nutriment simultaneously flow. ing into the mother's breast, as nature's only and allsufficient supply for nutrition and development, and substituting therefor the thousand slops, teas, and drugs which officious grannies, of both genders, are wont to prepare and administer. It may safely be computed that a moiety of the mortality among infants of days, is the direct result of spooning into the stomachs of new-born children some of the worst simples and compounds which they will ever taste through life, in case they survive the infliction. Not merely molasses, or sugar and water, catnip tea, olive or castor oil, goose-grease, spoon vietnals, and the like, but salt and water, soot tea, gin sling, and even urine, are incontinently forced into the infant's throat before it has known an hour of life. Thousands thus perish in early infancy, their deaths being ascribed variously to colic, cholera, diarrhea, dysentery, or convulsions, though oftener produced by drugging for the relief of symptoms which the mother's earliest milk would have prevented or cured; life being sacrificed by soothing sirup, Godfrey's cordial, Jayne's carminative, or somo other vile mixture of molasses and water, with opium and brandy."

We make room for another short extract on the general subject, and with it conclude by again commending the report to the notice of our readers. (Collins, Philadelphia.)

"We shall find it difficult to believe that the inestimable jewel of life is given by the Creator to such myriads of our race, with the design that a large majority of those who receive this boon are destined, in the Divine plan, to perish during their foetal or infantile existence, and that he has left us without any remedy to avert so terrific a catastrophe. Indeed, from what we know of the wonderful viability and mysterious tenacity of life which characterize infantile existence, both intra and extra-uterine being, we should infer the contrary; and believe that the benev olent Father of all has other, and wiser, and better designs toward our race, purposes which are perverted or defeated by a violation of the laws of our being, whereby the children whom God has given us as a blessing, become a curse by our early bereavement, and they perish prematurely, the victims of our ignorance, our misfortunes, our follies, or our crimes.'

The Minutes of the Annual Conferences of the Methodist Episcopal Church have grown into a pamphlet of formidable size. Those for 1857, just issued by Carlton & Porter, cover three hundred and forty-four octavo pages, and embrace not only the statistics, as heretofore given, but much other valuable information, such as the number of churches and parsonages in each conference, with their probable value; the number of baptisms of adults and children; and the number of deaths in the membership during the year. The total number of effective traveling preachers is six thousand one hundred and thirty-four. There are eight thousand three hundred and thirty-five churches, the probable value of which is estimated at fifteen millions seven hundred and eighty-one thousand three hundred and nineteen dollars. The Philadelphia, Baltimore, and New Jersey Conferences hold the first place in the value of their church edifices, amounting each to more than one million of dollars. upon them follow the New York East, nine hundred and eighty thousand two hundred and seventy-five dollars, and the New York, nine hundred and seventy-one thousand six hundred and thirty dollars. In fifteen of the Conferences there has been a decrease of members during the year, but on the whole the aggregate increase is set down at twenty thousand one hundred and ninety-two.


The Fort Edward Institute Monthly differs from the mass of cotemporary periodicals in that it is made up of original contributions from the faculty and students of that literary institution. It is highly creditable to all concerned, and the world will one day hear from some of the young writers whose first efforts are here put forth. From the last number we take pleasure in transferring to our pages a brief sketch of an artist whose merits are not exaggerated by the partiality of the writer:


"As a landscape artist the subject of this brief sketch is the "Hope of Vermont," if not of the nation. He was born in Scotland, in the year 1818, on the Tweed, and in the neighborhood of Melrose. He is, therefore, a 'border-man,' a descendant of those of whom Scott says:

"They sought the beeves which made their broth From Scotland and from England both."

The locality is highly picturesque, and is celebrated in Scottish song and legendary romance. In the early years of his boyhood the beautiful scenery and wild legends of the border made a strong impression upon his mind; and, to the present day, they haunt his imagination like memories of a pleasant dream. Those scenes, daguerreotyped upon his soul with the light of childhood, are tinted by the classic hand of Walter Scott, whom he recollects to have seen, and whoso poems are as familiar with him as household words.

"His talent as a poet is of no inferior character. There are some of his productions written in the broad Scotch dialect that would do no discredit to Burns himself. You have only to speak of his native land, and his cheek glows, and his eye kindles with the true Caledonian fire. The following stanzas are from his Farewell to Scotland:"

"Farewell, ye green hills, and ye heather-clad mountains,

Ye wild woody glens and bright valleys below; Farewell to the land of the lakes and the fountains,

The dearest on earth that my bosom can know.
I ne'er shall forget thee, my country! no, never!
Though I leave thee for years, and it may be-forever.

"Farewell, ye gray halls that my infancy shelter'd,
The home of my sires I can never forget;
Thine ivy-clad walls time and tempests may alter,
But thy old mossy stones shall be dear to me yet:
The strong ties that bind me to thee I now sever,
It may be for years, and it may be-forever.
"And when in some lone foreign land I'm a ranger,
If the blue hills of Scotland I never may see,
Ere they lay me to rest in the grave of a stranger,
My last breath shall rise for a blessing on thee.
Farewell, Caledonia! from thee I now sever,
It may be for years, and it may be-forever."

"He was the only child of his mother, who died before he was a year old, and left him to the care of his father, who emigrated with him to America when he was but nine years of age. Till his sixteenth year his home was in a wild section of Canada East, where they had few neighbors except wild beasts and the red men of the forest. Here he contracted a love for forest scenery, which has a strong influence upon his pencil to the present day. The sudden death of his father left him an orphan indeed; and after remaining with his grandfather about a year, he determined to friends in the winter of 1884, and traveled on foot to try his fortune in the States. He bade adieu to his Fairhaven, Vermont, a distance of one hundred and fifty miles, where he engaged as an apprentice to a wagon-maker for five years. At the end of this time he entered Castleton Seminary as a student, and remained two years.

"Up to this time he was quite undecided as to his life plan. His genius as a designer began to develop itself in childhood, when he amused himself by caricaturing his school-mates, sketching battle scenes, and modeling figures in blue clay. His canvass was usually a shingle, and his pencil a burnt stick. Not esteeming his skill in drawing of any practical value, the ambition of his youth was to be a soldier. This is not surprising when we reflect that he was a native of the border,' the battle-ground of the ancient Scots.

"But Cupid entered the lists, and Mars was driven from the field. At the age of twenty-three our hero married, and for a while engaged in teaching and such other employment as rendered him temporary support. In the meantime he made several unsuccessful attempts to obtain instruction in painting. He finally gave up all hope of becoming an artist, and was on the eve of engaging in an enterprise which would, in all probability, have given a different direction to his whole life. But he was again doomed to disappointment. He was disabled by a terrible ax-wound in his ankle joint, which for a time overwhelmed him with despondency. However, the star of 'Hope' was obscured for a moment, only to shine upon him with brighter luster. His active spirit would no longer brook control, and obtaining some common paints and a board, he made his first essay as a limner, in a portrait of himself. Such was his success, that sitters began to throng his primitive studio, and before he had fairly regained his power of locomotion he was a confirmed portrait painter, and had earned over a hundred dollars. fully recovered from the accident which had threatened to disable him for life, and by it scaled the barrier which obstructed his course as an artist; thus finding special significance in the sentiment:


"There's a divinity that shapes our ends,
Rough hew them how we will.'

"This occurred in the carly part of his twenty-fifth year. He now obtained suitable books and materials, and by untiring study and toil became quite a proficient in his art; so that he ventured to open a studio in Montreal. Here he met with more than the ordinary success of young artists; but after two years the health of his family demanding a change of air, he returned to Rutland County, Vermont. Here he fell in company with a landscape painter, who noticed his passionate love of nature, and the readiness with which he sketched, and encouraged him to give himself to landscapes. An opportunity presenting itself to teach painting and drawing in Castleton Seminary, he resorted to this method of maintaining his family till his pencil could more directly win him fame and bread.

"One of his first pictures, a view of Castleton Lake, he sold to the American Art Union.' On visiting the galleries of art in the metropolis, he was sadly disappointed to find that nature was not the standard among artists, because, as they explained, she was too tame. They advised him to improve his style by studying the works of other artists more. But he had made love to nature by the 'bonnie braes' of Scotland, and she had proved true in the land of his adoption, and his constant heart revolted at the thought of discarding her for the blandishments of an artful stranger. So he returned to the green hills of Vermont, sad but undaunted, loving art not the less, but nature more. His brother artists regarded him with jealous eye, and his sensitive nature shrank from anything that indicated inordinate pride of opinion; yet he preferred to risk his reputation for modesty, rather than sacrifice a principle so dear to him. He therefore toiled on, with that indomitable perseverance and untiring industry which so strikingly characterize him, never doubting of success, even in the darkest hour of discouragement.

"That artists should look askance at him is not sur

picture. His picture sold at a good price, and he found sufficient encouragement to induce him to open a studio in the city. Since that time he has spent his winters in New York, and his summers at his home in Castleton.

"To the superficial observer his studies may appear tame when compared with some of the gorgeous works of other artists; but you examine them for the hundredth time with still increasing pleasure. They hold the same relation to these fanciful designs that genuine history does to works of fiction. The one excites a momentary pleasure, while the other furnishes material for reflection for a lifetime.

"It is a gratifying fact that fortune begins to bestow her favors upon our artist with a lavish hand. In the enjoyment of a competency, and crowned with honors, with a pleasant cottage home enlivened by youthful hopes,' with a naturally cheerful spirit chastened by a genial piety, he cannot but be a happy man. And taking into consideration his age, his genius, his ambition, and his success, it will hardly be deemed presumption to predict that, as a landscape artist, he will yet be acknowledged the Hope of the nation.""

BOOKS FOR THE YOUNG have not appeared in such number and variety as in former years at the holiday season. We notice:

Mia and Charlie; or, a Week's Holiday at Rydale Rectory, an English reprint from the press of Carter & Brothers: a very pleasing story, with illustrations by Birkett Foster, who stands at the head of his profession.

The Little Shoemaker; or, the Orphan's Victory, an original tale, by Mrs. S. A. Myers, of whose former productions we have spoken favorably. This, we are assured, is a true story, prising, if they had any apprehensions that his style exceedingly interesting, but cannot fail to deand the youthful reader will not only find it was likely to become a popular one. For it implies an amount of labor that few have the patience or the perseverance to perform. This will be appreciated when it is known that he is not unfrequently engaged for weeks upon a scene from nature, painted, in all its details, on the spot, in the open air; and this, too, at a distance requiring from three to six miles' walk, which he accomplishes in time to greet the rising sun, and retires only with the light.

"Such effort deserves success. And when directed by such genius it cannot fail. For some time he struggled on, regarding himself as rather a forlorn hope, till he was cheered by the information that there existed in England an association of artists styling themselves 'Pre-Raphaelites.' They went beyond the Old Masters, accepting of no model but nature herself. About the same time he obtained a copy of Ruskin's celebrated work, Modern Painters.' This completely sustained and ably defended his theory. He now felt himself, at least, in honorable company, and, though his pictures had found a ready sale, he was ambitious to establish himself in New York. Taking with him some of his best studies, he again visited the metropolis. His 'Cedar Swamp,' exhibited in the National Academy of Design,' called forth a long criticism in the Tribune, in which he was classed with the Pre-Raphaelites.' The system was condemned, while he was given credit for a very natural

rive benefit from its perusal. (Carlton & Porter.)

Brown, Loomis, & Co., are issuing a series of "Illuminated Classics," for the little folks. The first volume now before us is "Chanticleer," the well-known thanksgiving story, from the pen of Cornelius Mathews. It is beautifully illustrated, and is to be followed by other entertaining stories, all of which, the publishers assure us, are to be healthful in their moral tone.

Anna; or, Passages from the Life of a Daughter at Home. (Carter & Brothers.) We are not admirers of the purely conversational style in which these " Passages are given. We seem

to hear only the author in the dialogue, and expect him to get the better of his opponents, while he furnishes arguments for the mere purpose of showing how easily he can refute them. "Anna," however, will interest a large class of readers, and it may be commended for its inculcation of Scriptural truth.

The Farm and the Flower-Garden.

READING FOR FARMERS.-The present season, to the farmer, is measurably one of rest and repose, but not of idleness; the thrifty and intelligent farmer has no time for idleness. The demands of out-door labor are comparatively few; and the time that remains, after proper attention to the wants and comfort of the stock, should be employed in maturing plans for the future, and in intellectual improvement.

The farmer should not be without a choice library; its size is not of so much importance as its character; the light, trashy, demoralizing literature of the day should be rigidly excluded. Biography, travels, essays, history, the sciences and arts, with some good practical works on agriculture and horticulture, will af ford instructive and entertaining reading to all members of the family. The reproach that

farmers are not a reading and intellectual portion of the community, is fast losing its force: let there speedily be an end to it. Why should they deny themselves one of the purest sources of enjoyment within their reach? Reading, in fact, has become indispensable to the farmer, if he would reach the highest point of success in his profession; in no other way can he obtain | an adequate knowledge of the improvement made in farm implements, the different breeds of stock, and the various operations and accessories pertaining to the tillage of the soil. We regard agricultural and horticultural journals as occupying a very important position in the periodical literature of the day; and every wise farmer will subscribe for at least one of them. A good publication of this kind, carefully read and digested, can hardly fail to make him a more thoughtful man, and a better master of his profession. We shall contribute our mite toward this end, so far as our limited space will admit.

CLEANING FRUIT TREES.-After the fruit is gathered, trees seldom receive any attention till the following spring; and in the hurry which then necessarily takes place, many important things are overlooked or neglected, and perhaps a thought is never given to the fact that multitudes of insects, in various stages of formation, have been left to multiply, and in many instances blight the farmer's hope. The larvæ and eggs of insects may be found in the soil, and under the bark and along the limbs of trees: the larvæ in the soil are most readily destroyed by late fall plowing, which brings them under the influence of winter frosts, and insures the death of most thus exposed. But we wish to direct attention now to the eggs deposited under the bark and on the limbs, and to the various species of coccus, or scaly bug. To destroy the former, the trunk of the tree should be scraped; for this purpose an old hoe may be used. It is only necessary to scrape off the loose outer bark; after this has been removed, the trunk may be washed with a weak solution of whale-oil soap, or even common soap. The tree will be benefited by the operation, independently of the destruction of insects. The nests and nits on the limbs must be destroyed by hand. The labor is somewhat tedious, but it is labor well bestowed, and effects the purpose more surely, and in much less time, than when the trees are covered with leaves. If the destruction of insects is left till summer, much damage is done before any attempt is made to prevent it; and the labor then is greatly increased, as the worms are scattered all over the trec, and hidden from sight by the leaves. It is much better to destroy them when you can do so in mass. You will find the birds willing and cheerful co-laborers with you in destroying your insect enemies; those that escape you during the winter, they will probably destroy during the summer. You should therefore encourage the birds to abide with you, and protect them from wanton destruction by senseless boys, whether of a larger or smaller growth.

We will now add a few words in regard to the coccus or scaly bug, which too often entirely escapes observation. In shape, they re

semble a very small turtle, and in appearance seem like small scales; hence their name. They are a great pest, and adhere to the bark by suction; suckers, in fact, would have been a significant name for them. They increase rapidly, and spread from the trunk all over the tree, which in consequence becomes sickly, and unable to ripen its fruit. The scaly bug is more frequently found on the pear than the apple; and so seldom attracts notice, that it is not often molested by the hands of man. In winter it is not difficult to destroy; it is then torpid, and easily rubbed off. It is generally found on smooth bark, and is readily destroyed by soap-suds applied with a brush: the scrubbing, however, must be done in good earnest. The whole subject of insects is deserving of serious attention, and we hope our readers will employ a portion of their winter leisure in efforts to destroy them.

FENCES.-The fence is one of the last improvements made on the farm, and generally one of the worst. It is a poor economy, however, to build a poor fence. Where stone is abundant, it makes in the end, if well laid, the most economical, as it is the most durable fence; but one made of locust posts and chestnut rails will last a lifetime. It should by all means be made straight; a crooked rail fence is an abomination, a waste of land, a harbor for weeds, and forever needing "fixing up." It is quite a common practice to divide the farm into small lots; this is both expensive and useless. Where cattle are soiled, very few fences are needed; and soiling is a practice much to be commended, especially on small farms. Look at your fences now, note what repairing is needed, and endeavor to do it before spring work is upon you.

THE PEACH BLOW POTATO.-We have tried this new variety of potato, and consider it one of the best grown. It boils dry, is mealy, and good flavored. It is also productive, and has been but little affected by the rot. The eyes are prominent, and there is consequently little waste in peeling. We saw it last season in several different localities, and found it uniformly good, and in much favor. The finest patch was on the farm of Peter L. Bogart, Esq., at Roslyn. We measured some of the stalks, and found them to be over six feet in length, and very stout. We recommend our readers to give the Peach Blow, and also the Washington, a trial.

A NOBLE LEMON TREE.-In a recent visit to Manhassett, L. I., we were invited to examine a large lemon tree belonging to one of the neighbors. Our surprise may be imagined when we beheld the largest specimen of the kind we had ever seen. Our surprise would have been less if we had seen the tree in some spacious green-house; but it is a "room-plant," and has always been such. Its age is about twelve years, and it had on it when we saw it one hundred and sixty-two lemons! many of them of very large size. Last year it produced one hundred and thirty-four lemons. We have seen specimens more symmetrically and skillfully grown, but none in better health and condition. It is about seven feet high and six feet in di

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