Into the perfect year! Nor ye who live * Publius Virgilius Maro, commonly named Virgil, the most excellent of the Roman poets, was born in the village of Andes, near Mantua, on the fifteenth of October, in the 648th year from the foundation of Rome, seventy years before the birth of our Saviour. He studied at Cremona, Milan (Mediolanum) and Naples; and acquired philosophy under the Epicurean Syron; and the opinions he then imbibed are obvious in his poems. Our poet styles him "the rural Maro," in allusion to his Bucolics and other pastoral poems; the first of which, the Eclogues, were written with the intention of producing, in his native language, something similar to the Idylls of Theocritus, which he early and enthusiastically admired; but they are inferior to their model. His Georgics, which may be considered as almost practical essays on agriculture, were written at the suggestion of his patron Mæcenas, through whose influence his patrimonial lands at Mantua, which he had lost when a division of lands in Italy was made to the veteran soldiers of Octavianus, were restored. Mæcenas was desirous, by means of the fascinating numbers of Virgil's muse, to bend the attention of his countrymen to rural affairs; the Roman lands, susceptible of high cultivation, having been much neglected, and almost in a condition of waste. Agriculture, nevertheless, was introduced into Britain by the Romans, who, after the conquest of the country, turned their attention towards the lands which their valour had obtained. Their labour, policy, and example, produced such a wonderful effect, that the Emperor Julian, A. D. 359, loaded, in Britain, eight hundred ships, larger than the common barks, with corn, for the use of the continent. Virgil visited Greece with the view of perfecting his epic poem, the Æneid. On his return, he fell sick at Megara; but lived to reach Brundusium, where he died, in the fifty-second year of his age, nineteen years before the commencement of the Christian era. Virgil considered the Æneid the greatest of his productions; but his undying praise will probably rest upon the Georgics. Any critical remarks upon the various productions of his muse would be here out of place. And some*, with whom compar'd your insect tribes 60 Are but the beings of a summer's day, Have held the scale of empire, rul'd the storm The plough, and greatly independent scorn'd Ye gen'rous Britons, venerate the plought; And o'er your hills, and long withdrawing vales, *Cincinnatus, Cato, Washington. 36 65 The advice of the poet in this quotation appears to have been the prevailing sentiment of our countrymen for the last half century; during which British agriculture has made greater progress than at any preceding period, and in any other country in the world. Waste lands have been brought into tillage; mosses have been drained; and manuring better attended to than before; whilst corn is seen waving in the full luxuriance of harvest, where formerly appeared only heath or a scanty and worthless pasture. This triumph of skilful industry is not confined to the more favoured portion of our island, in reference to climate; it is most apparent in the north of Scotland, where in some parts, as, for example, Nairn, wheat is ripened even at an elevation of 1000 feet above the level of the sea. If we inquire to what this truly wonderful change is to be attributed, the reply is ready: it is the result of the energies of the minds of the rising generation, raised and exalted by the spread of knowledge, and the light of science guiding and regulating practical skill; the surest presage of still further advancement. Neither is this obvious progress of improvement confined to the wild moors, and long neglected waste districts of our island. The tenants on the fertile lands of England are equally on the alert; there is no standing still they have shaken off the prejudices of their fathers; they have acknowledged the possibility of bending the stubbornness of the most arid soils by the well-directed power of cultivation to yield luxuriant harvests; and, what is of equal value, in witnessing the power of knowledge, they have become eager for scientific information; and have ceased to regard farming as a mere routine of stationary, practical exertion. Almost every farmer, under fifty years of age, is now convinced that the capability of the land is merely limited or increased by the extent of the knowledge of the man who cultivates it: and that the terms productiveness and unproductiveness no longer express the meaning which was formerly attached to them. An intelligent critic has justly said, that, "if Let Autumn spread his treasures to the sun, 70 not a hasty and inconsiderate, he must be regarded as an ignorant man, who ventures to limit or strictly define the possible productiveness of the soil; or to say, Thus far only shall the fertility of this or that land hereafter be brought." If such be the condition, and the feeling of our rising race of agriculturists, the veneration of the plough no longer requires the example, as our poet expresses himself, of "The kings, and awful fathers of mankind: " its guidance by the hand of Science and educated practical observation, are exalting its followers to the rank of the benefactors of their race; and displaying how far the dominion of mind over matter is capable of being extended. But with all these appliances of the exhaustless stores of Science, the question still presents itself, Will the available surface of our island, admitting the fulfilment of the most sanguine anticipations of its increasing productiveness, be able to supply the means of subsistence to our increasing population, much less of becoming, in the language of the poet, "The exhaustless granary of a world!" This is a question of great importance for the Government, which should endeavour to ascertain how waste land in the kingdom is capable, by means of draining, liming, and manuring, of a profitable cultivation. That it is very considerable is undoubted; a fact which cannot fail to strike even the most indifferent observer in traversing the country; indeed, when the quantity of land in Great Britain, which has been brought to a high state of productiveness, is compared with that on which nothing or next to nothing has been done, it appears strikingly insignificant. The facilities for rendering the whole productive, independent of increased knowledge, are, by the means of transport of lime, manure, and every requisite for the purpose by railroads; and the equal facilities these afford of conveying the productions of the farm to an advantageous market. These are undeniable advantages which our forefathers, even had Science shed its light upon their labours, did not possess. The great object of legislation, therefore, is now to encourage every thing which can add to the knowledge of the farmer, and to make him aware how much may be performed by means of the nature of which he is ignorant; and by powers which, although generally known, yet he has failed to employ. Thus we are told by high authority, namely Mr. Brown, of Markle, that the thrashing machine, if generally used, would save one-twentieth of the whole grain produced in this kingdom. Now suppose this to be 30,000,000 1 Edinburgh Review, vol. lxxxiv. p. 481. Far through his azure turbulent domain, Nor only through the lenient air this change, At large, to wander o'er the vernant earth, In various hues; but chiefly thee, gay green! United light and shade!* where the sight dwells of quarters; the quantity presumed to be left in the straw is 1,500,000 quarters, which, at 40s. per quarter, amount to 5,000,000l. sterling saved to the country. Upon the whole, were every means adopted to accelerate the cultivation of waste lands, and to improve those already under tillage, there is little reason to fear a deficiency of food in Great Britain, notwithstanding its increasing population, for many generations to come. In reverting to the advantages of education, there is little doubt that the political importance of the agricultural class, in this country, would be advanced to an equality with the manufacturing and the commercial classes. The two latter have a constant struggle with fortune; and they are only repaid by the contemplation of the ultimate end of their anxieties and exertions, namely, the accumulation of wealth. The occupation of the agriculturist, on the contrary, is in itself agreeable and interesting; he enjoys the pleasure with the profit, although the latter, in his present condition, may be an inadequate reward of his labours. To increase the enjoyment as well as the profit, education only is required; and were it duly appreciated and liberally afforded, we should no longer have to observe, with regret, the stupidity of the small farmers and peasantry; and the defect of interest which they display for the objects which every where surround them. : *There are two theories of light one of these assumes that light is material, and as such is emitted in rays from the sun, and From the moist meadow to the wither'd hill, Led by the breeze, the vivid verdure runs; other luminous bodies: the other imagines that the phenomena of light depend on certain undulations of that invisible and hypothetical matter, which is supposed to fill the universe, termed ether. I shall leave this controversy to the scientific; and, regarding light as matter, I shall endeavour to explain how green is the most agreeable; and, on that account, the most generally diffused of colours. Sir Isaac Newton ascertained, that every white, or colourless, ray of light is composed of seven primitive rays. The particles constituting these arrive at the bodies which they illuminate, or through which they pass, with different degrees of force; forming, in optical language, their difference of refrangibility and reflectibility; and, by the impression which they produce on the retina of the eye, the sensations of colours arise. According to the appellations given to these sensations, the particles themselves are distinguished from each other; hence we understand what is meant by the terms red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet rays; and we are prepared to admit the fact, that the colours of natural bodies are not really inherent qualities, but depend on the powers which the bodies, that display them, possess of reflecting, or transmitting, or absorbing, some of the colours forming these rays, more than others. Now, supposing that the red particles are largest, and move with the greatest celerity, they will, necessarily, produce the highest excitement of the retina. The other primitive particles possess similar properties, in a diminished degree, according to the place they occupy in the scale of colour, as it is displayed in the prismatic spectrum, beginning with the red and ending with the violet. As green is the middle colour in the spectrum, it possesses the properties of the other colours of impressing the retina, but in an intermediate degree. It is, therefore, that stimulus which is best adapted to be most constantly applied to the eye, being neither too powerful nor too feeble. It neither exhausts the nervous energy by an excess of excitement, nor produces indirect debility by defective stimulus. Let us suppose that the prevailing colours in nature are altered, the eye remaining as it is, what would be the consequence? the prevailing colour violet, instead of green, the eye, on being turned towards a red object, would be so powerfully stimulated, as almost to cause blindness and inflammation of the organ; as is the case when a person, who has been long immured in a dungeon, is brought suddenly into the light. On the contrary, was the prevailing colour red, the other colours would not be able to stimulate the eye sufficiently; of course they could produce no sensation; every thing would be one unvarying red. Nature is, therefore, Was |