for half the year, at least from April to September inclusive, in the northern hemisphere. In the beginning of April, the land is broken up as usual by the plough, and divided into two rows, about five feet asunder. These rows are slight trenches, which, when the plant has appeared sometime above the ground, are raised into ridges by the plough. There are two modes of planting the seed, one is to drop a certain number of seeds into holes, made eight or ten inches from each other, and this, though most laborious, saves much subsequent trouble, and occasions much less waste of the seed than the other mode, which consists in dropping the seed uninterruptedly along the trench. The superfluous growth that is thus produced, is thinned by the hand. The less promising shoots are plucked out, and by successive pickings, the erop is so far thinned, as to leave intervals of ten or twelve inches between the stalks. These inter vals may be enlarged according to the luxuriance of the plant, and may be extended, in the richest soils and finest seasons, to two, three, and four feet. One bushel of seed in the latter mode of planting, is required to an acre. The hoe is constantly employed to subdue the weeds, and no part of the field can be neglected with impunity longer than a fortnight. Little hills are formed round the selected plants, to strengthen the stalk, and avert the rain. In September, when all the pods are formed which can be expected, the remaining blossoms are cut off, that the sun and air may exert their influence the better on what remains. In two months after planting, the blossoms make their appearance, and continue to succeed each other till arrested by the frost. In warmer climates than ours, the last of these blossoms is not matured into a pod till November or December, but as frost generally commences throughout the states as early as October, and as the cold destroys all the blossoms and imperfect pods, this month and September are generally the harvest months in Carolina and Georgia, for cotton. I need hardly mention that the cotton-blossom is succeeded, like that of the pea and bean, by a pod or seed-vessel, divided into different cells, which contain seeds bedded in a fine silky wool. Nothing remains after the pod is completely ripened and burst, but to separate this wool (the seed adhering to it) from the pod, and afterwards to separate the wool from the seed. The first is done by the hand, the pod being left in the field. Sixty pounds of seed-cotton can be plucked in a day by one hand. The se cond process has sometimes been effected in the same way, but machinery of some kind is so easily adapted to the purpose, that the mere hand no longer performs it, where the crop is considerable. The produce of an acre varies very much according to the soil and the season. The largest crop of which I have ever heard, in Georgia or Carolina, has been three hundred and fifty pounds of clean cotton per acre. The smallest produce, when there is any crop at all, on ordinary lands, does not fall short of sixty pounds per acre. From one to two hundred pounds must be considered as the middling produce, and from two to three hundred as an excellent harvest. Machines for cleaning the cotton from the seed, are cailed gins. The simplest of these is called a foot gin, being kept in motion by the foot acting on a treadle, in the manner of a lathe, or spinningwheel. They consist of two small rollers, which move in opposite ways, the circumference of each being so near each other as to adinit the wool, but exclude the seed. Each of these is managed by one slave, who sets the rollers in mótion, while he feeds them with cotton, and by this means will produce about twenty-five pounds a day. A number of these machines is sometimes subjected to a common power, by means of intermediate wheel-work. These are called barrel gins, and are moved by oxen or water. By this machinery, from ten to thirty foot-gins are set in motion at once, each being fed by a slave, and the work performed is in proportion to the number of these. The most complete and powerful of these machines are called saw-gins: their apparatus being adapted to disengage the seed more effectually, while at the same time it nearly supplies itself. One person will suffice for a gin of this kind, which cleans eight hundred pounds a day. No machinery hitherto invented will entirely free the cotton from all impurities. It must therefore undergo a new and careful picking, before it is put into bags. Cotton, which, when loose, occupies an enormous space in proportion to its weight, is so violently compressed by means of screws into these bags, as to be almost as impenetrable as a board, at the same time, such is the specific levity of cotton, that a cubic foot of it thus compressed, shall not weigh more than twelve or fifteen pounds. The mode of cultivation, and the manufacture of cotton in China and India, are very little known beyond the limits of these countries. It is natural to be supposed that our arts in both these respects, might be very much improved by a knowledge of the Indian and the Chinese arts for any information on these interesting heads, it is vain to look into ancient or modern travellers. By some fatality or other, the few who have traversed China, have fixed their eyes scarcely on a single object which deserved to be examined or described. As to the advantages of cottonplanting, these are extremely variable. The tide of commerce is influenced by the tide of war, and as the planter's profit depends upon prices that are always fluctuating, the profit of one year affords no criterion of that of the next. X. For the Literary Magazine. ANECDOTES, FROM MY PORT PHILIP DE VITRE was a wealthy citizen of Amiens, in the fourteenth century. Many strange stories were current about him, but the most remarkable are these: He confined himself to one pint of cold water, and half a pound of hard rye buiscuit, baked with the seventh to the ninety-ninth year of bran, per day, from the thirtyhis He divided this into two age. equal portions, eating one at twelve o'clock at night, and the other at twelve at noon. I He limited his sleep to six hours on an hard board, walked in the open air in his garden two hours daily, and bestowed the rest of his time on solitary study. In his dress, he was equally rigo rous, but no particulars respecting that or his studies or employments, are recorded. One cannot but be desirous of knowing more of such a man, and of discovering the ininfluence of such regimen and diet on his body and mind. His great age is a proof that this influence was salutary, and the very late pe. riod of his life, at which he commenced ascetic is likewise a proof to the same purpose. This old gentleman might have been quite as remarkable as Ludovico Canaro, and his fame as extensive, had he devoted one studious day, out of eighteen thousand, to put his history on paper. We are equally in the dark as to the object of his studies, and all the benefit which by so long a life thus spent, might have accrued to posterity, some cross accident or perverse whim, denied to us. Some ignorant heir may have huddled all his papers into a chest, and that chest into a garret, where the moth and cockaroach have long converted the contents to their own use. In the year 1777, one Thomas Coccles of Yarmouth was robbed of a large sum of money. He ad vertised his loss, and threatened the unknown robbers, that, if they did not return the money by a certain day, he would apply to Abram Cavenaugh the cunning man. The greater part of the money was returned before the day appointed, with an excuse, that the remainder had been spent. Witchcraft, we see, can produce some advantages. By the way, has the pretensions of that class of persons who profess to tell fortunes and discover stolen goods, even been examined by intelligent observers? A magistrate of Yarmouth, having his attention excited by the foregoing incident, paid a visit to Abraham the conjurer, who produced a letter inclosing a bank note of ten pounds. The letter signified that the bill was sent to him as hush money, should Coccles, dissatitfied with a partial reimbursement, still apply to him. "Your raverance," said the postcript, "knows every thing, and so your worship knows that I gave the rest to Pig Singleton, and she's run'd away to Lunnun with a sailor." The magistrate recognized, in this scrawl, the hand of a discarded footman of his own, who was forthwith arrested, confessed the fact, and was transported for fourteen years. As honesty, the proverb says, is the best policy, every rogue must be a fool: but every rogue is a fool in a less refined sense of the word. He almost universally wants skill enough to effect his own purpose, and discretion enough to keep his own secret. As the vulgar in general, and especially the dishonest part of them, are extremely ignorant and credulous, might not the magistrate make a good use of an engine like this? Constables and conjurers would make useful officers of justice, and the latter would, perhaps, be much the most useful of the two. In the year 1733, a traveller arrived, late at night, at a large village in the north of England, (say the chronicles of the times) tired and dispirited. As soon as he en tered the Boar-head inn, the landlord inquired his name. He was in debt, and was actually making his way to the nearest seaport, to escape from England. This inquiry awakened his suspicion, and though his real name was Cacklethistle, he told them it was Thistlethwaite. One looked upon the rest, and exclaimed, 66 a near chance indeed!" They then exhibited a copy of a will made by an inhabitant of the town, leaving ten thousand pounds, his whole property, to that person, bearing, from his birth, the same name with himself, who should first arrive at the Boar-head inn. The testators name was Cacklethistle, and this will was made in pursuance of an hasty vow made by the testator, on some act of disobedience in his only relation. It is needless to add that the traveller immediately established his claim, and got the legacy. A will of this kind, appears, at first sight, very absurd; but, in a reasonable point of view, nine out of ten of the wills, both of the living and of the dead, are equally absurd. As men scrape together money without any view to the public good, so when they can enjoy it no longer, they dispose of it as chance, anger or caprice suggest. In European countries, where family is of so much importance, there is no stronger claim to posthumous beneficence, than similitude of name. MEMOIRS OF CARWIN THE BILOQUIST. (Continued from page 259.) My visits gradually became more frequent. Meanwhile my wants increased, and the necessity of some change in my condition became daily more urgent. This incited my reflections on the scheme which I had formed. The time and place suitable to my design, were not selected without much anxious inquiry and frequent waverings of purpose. These being at length fixed, the interval to elapse, before the carrying of my design into effect, was not without perturbation and suspense. These could not be concealed from my new friend and at length prompted him to inquire into the cause. It was not possible to communicate the whole truth; but the warmth of his manner inspired me with some degree of ingenuousness. I did not hide from him my former hopes and my present destitute condition. He listened to my tale with no expressions of sympathy, and when I had finished, abruptly inquired whether I had any objection to a voyage to Europe? I answered in the negative. He then said that he was preparing to depart in a fortnight and advised me to make up my mind to accompany him. This unexpected proposal gave me pleasure and surprize, but the want of money occurred to me as an insuperable objection. On this being mentioned, Oho! said he, carelessly, that objection is easily removed, I will bear all expenses of your passage myself. The extraordinary beneficence of this act as well as the air of uncautiousness attending it, made me doubt the sincerity of his offer, and when new declarations removed this doubt, I could not forbear expressing at once my sense of his generosity and of my own unworthiness. He replied that generosity had been expunged from his catalogue as having no meaning or a vicious one. It was the scope of his exertions to be just. This was the sum of human duty, and he that fell short, ran beside, or outstripped justice was a criminal. What he gave me was my due or not my due. If it were my due, I might reasonably demand it from him and it was wicked to withhold it. Merit on one side or gratitude on the other, VOL. I....NO. v. were contradictory and unintelligi. ble. If I were fully convinced that this benefit was not my due and yet received it, he should hold me in contempt. The rectitude of my principles and conduct would be the measure of his approbation, and no benefit should he ever bestow which the receiver was not entitled to claim, and which it would not be criminal in him to refuse. These principles were not new from the mouth of Ludloe, but they had, hitherto, been regarded as the fruits of a venturous speculation in my mind. I had never traced them into their practical consequences, and if his conduct on this occasion had not squared wth his maxims, I should not have imputed to him inconsistency. I did not ponder on these reasonings at this time: objects of immediate importance engrossed my thoughts. One obstacle to this measure was removed. When my voyage was performed how should I subsit in my new abode? I concealed not my perplexity and he commented on it in his usual manner. How did I mean to subsist, he asked, in my own country? The means of living would be, at least, as much within my reach there as here. As to the pressure of immediate and absolute want, he believed I should be exposed to little hazard. With talents such as mine, I must be hunted by a destiny peculiarly malignant, if I could not provide myself with necessaries wherever my lot were cast. He would make allowances, however, for my diffidence and self-distrust, and would obviate my fears by expressing his own intentions with regard to me. I must be apprized, however, of his true meaning. He laboured to shun all hurtful and vitious things, and therefore carefully abstained from making or confiding in promises. It was just to assist me in this voyage, and it would probably be equally just to continue to me similar assistance 3 when it was finished. That indeed was a subject, in a great degree, within my own cognizance. His aid would be proportioned to my wants and to my merits, and I had only to take care that my claims were just, for them to be admitted. This scheme could not but appear to me eligible. I thirsted after an acquaintance with new scenes; my present situation could not be changed for a worse; I trusted to the constancy of Ludloe's friendship; to this at least it was better to trust than to the success of my imposture on Dorothy, which was adopted merely as a desperate expedient: finally I determined to embark with him. In the course of this voyage my mind was busily employed. There were no other passengers beside ourselves, so that my own condition and the character of Ludloe, continually presented themselves to my reflections. It will be supposed that I was not a vague or indifferent observer. There were no vicissitudes in the deportment or lapses in the discourse of my friend. His feelings appeared to preserve an unchangeable tenor, and his thoughts and words always to flow with the same rapidity. His slumber was profound and his wakeful hours serene. He was regular and temperate in all his exercises and gratifications. Hence were derived his clear perceptions and exuberant health. This treatment. of me, like all his other mental and corporal operations, was modelled by one inflexible standard. Certain scruples and delicacies were incident to my situation. Of the existence of these he seemed to be unconscious, and yet nothing escaped him inconsist ent with a state of absolute equality. I was naturally inquisitive as to his fortune and the collateral circumstances of his condition. My notions of politeness hindered me from making direct inquiries. By indirect means I could gather nothing but that his state was opulent and independent, and that he had two sisters whose situation resembled his own. Though, in conversation, he appeared to be governed by the utmost candour; no light was let in upon the former transactions of his life. The purpose of his visit to America I could merely guess to be the gratification of curiosity. My future pursuits must be supposed chiefly to occupy my attention. On this head I was destitute of all stedfast views. Without profession or habits of industry or sources of permanent revenue, the world appeared to me an ocean on which my bark was set afloat, without compass or sail. The world into which I was about to enter, was untried and unknown, and though I could consent to profit by the guidance I was unwilling to rely on the support of others. This topic being nearest my heart, I frequently introduced into, conversation with my friend; but on this subject he always allowed: himself to be led by me, while on all others, he was zealous to point the way. To every scheme that I proposed he was sure to cause objections. All the liberal professions were censured as perverting the understanding, by giving scope to the sordid motive of gain, or embuing the mind with erroneous principles. Skill was slowly obtained, and success, though integrity and independence must be given for it, dubious and instable. The mechanical trades were equally obnoxious; they were vitious by contributing to the spurious gratifications of the rich and multiplying the objects of luxury; they were destruction to the intellect and vigour of the artizan; they enervated his frame and brutalized his mind. When I pointed out to him the necessity of some species of labour, he tacitly admitted that necessity, but refused to direct me in the choice of a pursuit, which though not free from defect should yet have the fewest inconveniences. He dwelt on the fewness of our ac |