necessarily leave the land; and must never omit the circumstance, that it may, and must frequently render a bad crop of wheat, or a bad wheat harvest, of little consequence in the country. Such would have been the case this very year, if corn had been gene rally cultivated in England. Nay, such, to me, is the case now. I need care little about the high price of wheat. I use very little, comparatively; if I had rye, I would use no wheat in the farm-house; but, as it is, I have corn, and I care little about the price of wheat; and, if the use of corn were now generally known, it would be brought from abroad in such quantities as to lower the price of the loaf from thirteen pence to about seven pence. The wheat crops are frequently injured, and greatly diminished in their amount, by the wire-worm, the slug, or the floods; and wheat fields are, on account of these injuries, often ploughed up, and sowed with barley, or oats, or kept for turnips. Here is so much bread lost; but if corn came to supply the place of ploughed up wheat, all would be well again; the quantity of bread would suffer no diminution. Corn is subject to no smut; no blight; no mildew; and never suffers as wheat does, from too much richness in the ground. Wheat will not stand the excess of richness; it will run all to blade; it will fall down; it must be "flogged," or it will bear no grain. This is never the case with corn, which will bear any richness of land. Then, again, the quantity of seed is so small in the case of corn, that it really does not make from the deduction worthy of notice. We all know, that, to get on an average twenty-eight bushels of wheat, we must sow three bushels. Now, to get an acre of corn, from fifty to a hundred bushels, there needs only about six quarts of seed. We know, that after every harvest, the seed market stops, in a great degree, the supply of bread wheat, and that it takes away the very best part of the crop of wheat; and we know, that there is such a fuss abont seed wheat, sending miles and miles for it; and, indeed, the pains, though necessary, are endless. In the care of corn, in a good large pair of great coat pockets a farmer may carry seed for a corn field home from his neighbour's crib, if he take a fancy to that in preference to his own. No man, after the third or fourth year from this, will ever buy seed corn; such a thing was never heard of in America, and it never will be heard of here. But, if this plant be a valu able acquisition to the higher and middle ranks, what is it to the labourer! He must and will have the great benefit of it. It is out of nature, that he should continue to plant and to eat potatoes; to suppose such a thing possible, would be to suppose him as senseless, as destitute of reason, and even more destitute than the beasts that perish. In short, the thing cannot be; and the intro

duction of the plant will, in a few years, make a total revolution in the relative state of farmer and labourer; the reasons on which I found this opinion it is not necessary now to state; and, besides, a statement of them would lead me too far from the matter, with which I am about to conclude my book."

"Green ears.-I have said a good deal about these ears as used by the Israelites; but I must here give minute instructions with regard to the manner of cooking and eating them. Early in the month of September, or late in August, if you turn aside, or rather open with your fingers, the green husks of the ear, you will find the grain apparently bursting with milk. This milk afterwards becomes meal, as is the case with wheat, rye, and other grain. Towards the top of the ear, where the grains are formed last, they will not be arrived quite at their full milky state. Having ascertained the state of one ear, you need not open the husks of the rest; the feel of them, on the outside, will soon instruct you as to their state of forwardness. You strip the ear off from the stalk by a tear downward, and you carry a parcel in to be eaten. You now take off the husks, and, when you have done that, there are two ways of proceeding in the cookery; roasting and boiling. Roasted ears, such as those mentioned in Leviticus, are certainly the greatest delicacy that ever came in contact with the palate of man. In America, where they burn wood upon the hearth, they contrive to have a bright fire, with a parcel of live wood coals on the hearth; they lay something of iron across the two hand-irons which are used in the fire-place; sweep the ashes up clean, and then they take the ears of corn and set them up along in a row, facing the fire, and leaning gently against the bar which they have put across. When one side is brown you turn the other side towards the fire; or, rather, you turn them round gradually until the whole be brown; and, when the whole of the grains be brown, you lay them in a dish, and put them upon the table. These are so many little bags of roasted milk, the sweetest that can be imagined; or, rather, are of the most delightful taste. You leave a little tail of the ear, two inches long, or thereabouts, to turn it and handle it by. You take a thin piece of butter upon a knife, which will cling to the knife on one side, while you gently rub it over the ear from the other side. Thus the ear is buttered; then you take a little salt, according to your fancy, and sprinkle it over the ear; you then take the tail of the ear in one hand, and the point of the ear in the other hand, and bite the grains of the cobb. I need hardly say that this must be done with the fore teeth, and that those who have none must be content to live without green ears; for, as to taking the grains off with a knife, they are too deeply planted to

admit of that'; and if you attempt cutting, you will cut cobb and all. When you have finished one ear you lay the cobb aside and go to another. No wonder that this was ordered to be a meat-offering of the firstfruits unto the Lord; for it is the most savoury, the most delightful thing that ever was eaten by man. I defy all the arts of French cookery, upon which so many volumes have been written, to produce any thing so delightful to the palate as this. So much for the roasting ears; and now for the boiled, which is the general mode of cooking; which is not quite productive of so delicate a thing to taste; but which is productive certainly of the next delicate thing in the world. You gather the ears, and husk them, as before mentioned; put them into a pot of hot water, and boil them for about twenty minutes; then take them out into a dish, put them upon the table, as in the other case, and proceed with the butter and the salt and the biting off from the cobb, as before. Common people in America boil them with fat pork, and do not use any butter at all, the pork having communicated to them a sufficiency of fat. The Israelites were commanded to smear the roasted ears over with oil, their country being a little too warm to make a bit of butter stick upon a knife; for this reason too, in most cases, my friends the Yankees content themselves with the fat imbibed from the pork, which the reader will please to observe, is not potatoe-fed stuff from Waterford, nor blood-and-garbage-fed stuff from the neighbourhood of the slaughterhouses in and about the Wen, but solid as a rock and sweet as a violet; a thing which the most delicate might eat with pleasure, if thinly spread upon bread in the place of butter. Now, contemplate for a moment the use, the value, of being furnished thus, not with mere garden-stuff, at this time of the year, when the whole crop is gone, and the new crop is not come. These green ears are bread, and when boiled are used as such, nobody ever thinking of bread to eat with meat, or to eat with tea at breakfast, or at night, if they have green ears of corn. I remember that, under that day of the month in which I mentioned, in my Year's Residence, that we had begun upon our green cars, I said, 'We shan't starve now.' I have mentioned before that I had but five rods of ground planted with corn, and I know that seven of us, six men and a woman, had no other bread for six weeks; and no other meat than 'prime pork;' and no other victuals besides a thumping apple pudding every day. Think of seven persons, getting their bread for six weeks from five rods of ground; and not one of the seven who had not full as good an appetite as falls to the lot of the generality of men. The plat was, indeed, extraordinarily productive; and I think it was equal to fifteen rods of the general crops in the fields. VOL. I. Y

But it was what any man may have over one whole field, and it was no more than what every labouring man may have in his garden every year of his life, if he have a garden containing five or six rods of ground. The ears ripen by degrees. There are always some much earlier than the rest; there are ears to be found in a milky state during a space of six weeks, or thereabouts. They grow, indeed, rather harder towards the latter end of the six weeks; but hungry people like them the better for this, as they have more substance in them, and approach nearer to meal and bread. Any thing of grinders will dispose even of these with great ultimate advantage. Here, then, is no flatulent stuff, such as beans, pease, cabbages, and the like,. which are nothing without meat, and generally without butter too. Many a meal have I made upon green cars alone; and many a hundred thousand meals are made every year in the same manner by people in America,. who have always heaps of meat at their com mand. They keep gathering the green ears till the grain is so hard as to resist the thumbnail; and then they resort to the various states of the grinding of the corn of the last year. In the culinary process there are none of those cullings, and pickings, and choosings, and rejectings, and washings, and dabblings, and old women putting on their spectacles to save the caterpillars from being boiled alive; there are none of those peelings and washings as in the case of potatoes and turnips, and digging into the sides with the knife for the eyes, the maggots, and the worms, and flinging away about half the root, in order to secure the worst part of it, which is in the middle; none of those squeezings, and mashings, and choppings before the worthless mess can be got upon the table; nor are there wanted any of that tribe of boilers, of skillets, and saucepans, and stewpans, and kettles, and a whole heap of stuff, which, in a pretty large house, would, if they were all collected together, after being lugged out from their divers shelves, and holes and corners, fill a dung-cart. Nature has furnished this valuable production with so complete a covering, that washings from the purest water cannot add to its cleanliness. The husk being stripped off, it is at once ready for the pot. A mess of pease costs three times its real worth in gathering and shelling, besides keeping the dinner back, one of the greatest sins ever committed by the lazy and thoughtless part of the female kind. Where the dinner is not ready at the proper time, in that house there is no regularity; and no affairs, either of the gentle, or the gentle or simple, can have any thing like certainty belonging to them. Here the thing is ready of itself; no going to the mill for the poor man during these six weeks; no trudging about for the labourer of a Sunday morning to get his flour from the mill; or, nine times out of ten from

the merciless chandler's shop, where nine times out of ten he has it booked,' and where he meets, nine times out of ten, with a vendor and booker with less mercy in the heart than the devil has in his, even according to the worst accounts that we have of the disposition of that infernal sovereign. The green ears are so ready to hand, so carefully preserved by nature from all sorts of dirt and filth, that we can hardly see the possibility of dirt being got upon them, even by the unfortunate Irish, who have neither forks, nor knives, nor plates, nor spoons, nor any thing but a pot in which they boil the potatoes, and from which they trundle them out upon a board, there to be peeled by hands with which soap has never come in contact. If they can but get clean water into their pot, and some more water to wash the board with, here they may have a clean meal, in spite of those who plunder them under pretence of making them free."

STANZAS.

Containing an exact and literal account of the behaviour and fate of Abraham Isaacs, of Ivy-lane, who died of excessive brandy.

"True 'tis a PT-PT 'tis, 'tis true."-Shakspeare.

IN IV-lane, of CT fame,
There lived a man, DC;
And AB 16 was his name-
Now mark his history.

Long time his conduct, free from blame,
Did merit LOG;

Until an "evil spirit" came

In the shape of O D V.

"O! that a man into his mouth
Should put an NME,

To steal away his brains:"-no drouth
Such course from sin may free.

Well, AB drank, the OT loon!
And learned to swear, sans ruth;
And then he gamed, and UZ soon
To DV8 from truth.

And when his better would cry,
"O! leave the ODV:"
He'd only growl,"Tis all my I,"
Or hiccup, "UB D-

An hourly glass with him was play;
He'd swallow that with phlegm:
Judge what he'd MT in a day-
XPD Herculem,"

Of virtue none to sots, I trow,
With FEKC prate;

And 0 of NRG could now
From AB MN8.

Who on good liquor badly dote,
Soon poverty must know-
Thus AB in a CD coat

Was shortly forced to go.

From poverty DOT he caught,

And cheated not FU,

For what he purchased paying 0,
Or but an "IOU."

Or else, when he had tried B4
To shirk a debt, his wits;
He'd cry," You shan't wait NE more
I'll W, or quits."

Thus lost did 16 now APR:
Then said his wife, says she,
"If U act so, your fate quite clear
Is for 1 2 4Ĉ."

His inside soon was, out and out,
More fiery than KN;

And, while his state was thereabout,
A cough CVR came.-Then

He IPKQNA tried,

And linseed T, and rue :
But 0 could save him-so he died,
As every 1 must 2.

Poor wight! till black i' th' face he raved — 'T' was PTS 2 C:

His latest spirit "spirits" craved-
His last words, "O D V!"

MORAL.

1 sha'n't SA to preach and prate,
But tell U, if U do
Drink O DV at such R8,
Death will 4stall U 2.

O U then who A Y Z have,
Shun O D V as a wraith;
For 'tis a bonus to the giave,
AS unto death.-Monthly Magazine.

INGENIOUS INVENTION.

A NOVEL and most ingenious invention has been recently introduced into England: it is the invention of a French artist, who finds a more ready market for the produce of his labour and ability in our country. The invention to which we allude is that of a lay figure (if we may so apply the term) of a horse, so constructed as that all the graceful attitudes of that noble animal may be faithfully represented, whether galloping, trotting, walking, or at rest. It is impossible to describe the effect produced by the figure; the accuracy with which the motions are described is really astonishing; to painters, in particular, it will be an invaluable acquisition. Heretofore they have been invariably under the necessity of resorting to the life. upon all occasions where the horse was introduced into a picture the inconvenience of this method is obvious. Painters of the horse will now have the same advantages as those who pourtray the human figure, and who have always had the moveable model to paint from, before finishing from nature. model we refer to was a few days since inspected by his majesty, who immediately ordered one of them to be sent to Windsor, and expressed the warmest admiration of the artist's skill. The house of Colnaghi and Son is appointed the depôt for its sale.

The