On horseshoeing

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r NO. 2. 1
Lnew SEREES.J

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ON'

HORSESHOEING.

BY

wj:lliam miles,

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i^i.

REPRINTED, FOR GENERAL DISTRIBUTIOX, FROM THE JOURNAL OP THE ROTAL AGRICULTURAL
SOCIETT OP ENGLAND. VOL. 18, P. 270.

BOSTON :

1858.

J. H. EASTBURN'S PRESS.

\

HORSESHOEING.

Although the subject of this paper may not legitimately come
under the head of agriculture, it is nevertheless so intimately con-
nected with the interests of the agriculturist, and has been so woful-
ly neglected by him, that I may perhaps be excused for attempting
to arouse him to a sense of its importance in a pecuniary point of
view. Horses are essential to the carrying on of his pursuits, he
cannot possibly do without them, and a lame one is a very serious and
expensive incumbrance to him.

My object, therefore, shall be to show him and others how they
may insure to themselves a much larger amount of good and efficient
service from their horses than has hitherto been obtained fi'om them,
at the small cost of a little attention to the mode in which they are
shod, and the general treatment of their feet in the stable. It is too
much the habit to consider that shoeing has accomplished all that can
be expected of it, if the shoes are only firm on the horse's feet when
his master requires his services ; whether they are tight and pinch
him, or are easy and comfortable to him, are matters that are seldom
considered, so long as he can go at all, and contrive to keep himself
on his legs, and not diminish his marketable value by tumbling down
and breaking his knees ; all the pain he endures passes unheeded,
except by the poor brute himself, and until he becomes positively
lame and useless he receives no sympathy or care from those whose
bounden duty it was by timely attention to have spared him. " No
foot no horse" is a truth that 1 doubt not has been realized to many
of my readers, when, in the expectation of an agreeable ride either
on business or pleasure, they have found their horse emerge from the
stable, marking time with his head at every step with the precision of
a drill-sergeant.

The first thing that occurs to every one on such occasions is to
travel yesterday's journey over again in the mind's eye, in the hope
of discovering some particular hole in the road, or some pai'ticular
stone that must have caused the unlooked for and unexpected calam-
ity ; the bare possibility of its being the gradually developed result
of long continued bad shoeing, and bad treatment in the stable, of
course never suggests itself, because the horse has always been treat-
ed as other horses are treated, and therefore those things can have
nothing whatever to do with it ; and this would be considered a suffi-
cient and satisfactory answer to any one who had the temerity to sur-
mise such a cause. I will nevertheless venture to assert, that in nine
hundred and ninety-nine cases of foot-lameness out of every thousand,
bad shoeing and bad stabling have had more to do with it, than the
supposed accident that causes the horse to " drop his head to it," and
thereby show that tlie culminating point had at last been reached, and
that he is indisputably lame.

Foot-lameness is a very insidious affair, particularly that most
painful and common form of it, navicular lameness. It steals on
very gradually, and for the most part unobserved by all but the
unfortunate horse; he, poor beast, notes its every stage, and if those
who look after him, and those who employ him, would only attend to
the indications he gives them, they would know as much about it as
he does, excepting the pain. His courage enables him to bear a good
deal without much flinching, nevertheless he soon shows to a close
observer that mischief is brewing ; the first indication he gives is the
straightening of the pastern bone, so as to place the weight of the leg
more on the coffin bone, and less on the navicular bone ; then, as
time goes on, and the pain increases, he relaxes the fetlock joint, and
bears less weight on the foot altogether ; still there is not much in his
mode of standing to attract the attention of a casual observer ; his
next plan for obtaining relief is to advance the foot slightly, so as to
bring the toe of the lame foot a little in front of the toe of the oppo-
site foot, whereby he removes it in some degree from the base which
supports his weight.

AH this may have been going on for months, and no one have ob-
served it, until at last he can bear the pain no longer, and he thrusts
his foot fiiirly out in front of him in undisguised " pointing ;" never-
theless he contrives, when he is at work, by shortening his stride and
stepping a little quicker, to conceal the lameness ; and the groom and
his master become in time so accustomed to his posture in the stable,
that they look upon it as a mere trick, and say, " it is all nothing, he
always stands so when at rest :" the latter may be true, but the former
is something more than doubtful.

Some horses are unquestionably given to tricks, but no horse ever
indulges in a trick which compels him to stand almost constantly on
two legs instead of four; the pain and inconvenience of such a pro-
ceeding would soon induce him to relinquish it as a matter of amuse-
ment. Before he can point a fore foot he is obliged to dispense with
the support of the opposite hind leg, which he does by relaxing the
muscles, lowering the hip, bending the joints, and resting the limb on
the toe ; he then has to divide his weight as equally as he can be-
tween the other hind leg and the opposite fore leg, and having done
this he raises the lame foot and deposits it sufficiently forward to
insure its exemption from sustaining any portion of his weight ; he
then lowers his head and neck with a view of still further diminishr
ing the w^eight on his feet, and presents altogether such a picture of
misery, that it would require a very lively imagination in the beholder
to suppose the horse is merely indulging liimself in an agreeable
trick.

The horse's foot is made up of a variety of textures so elaborately
and beautifully combined as to form one complicated but perfect
spring, and unless that spring is permitted to have constant freedom
of action, it very soon gets out of order, the more delicate parts lose
their elasticity, and the power of expansion, Avhicli is so essential to
the soundness of the foot, becomes first diminished, and ultimately
destroyed, whereby the horse is soon rendered useless. I take it
there are few persons who will dispute the expansion of the horse's

foot, but whatever the general theory about it may be, the all but
universal practice is to ti-eat it as an inelastic solid, whose chief use is
to pound MacAdamized roads.

The horse in a state of nature roams about at will with his feet
unfettered, and they take no harm, simply because he is permitted to
look where he is going, pick his way over difficult ground, and direct
his own pace ; but as soon as he enters the service of man these val-
uable privileges and safeguards are withdrawn, and the various uses
to which he is put, and the rapid rate at Avhich he is required to
travel over all sorts of roads, call for some efficient protection to his
feet, and it is not only our duty, in return for the important services
he renders, to see that it is applied in the manner the least detri-
mental to him, but it is our interest to do so in anticipation of the
lengthened service it will insure to us. If horses were always prop-
erly shod, and properly stabled, they would repay the care thus
bestowed on them by the increased length of efficient service they
would perform. When a horse has worked seven or eight years it
is no uncommon thing to hear his master say, "he owes me nothing,"
which may be perfectly true, considering the treatment he has re-
ceived ; but if he had been properly treated during the time he Avould
be still some eight or ten years of active service in his master's debt.

The horse is a much longer lived animal than people generally
suppose him to be ; but the prevalent mistake as to the length of his
natural life may be attributed to two opposite causes : First, the very
lax'ge number that are known to die at an early age — victims, it may
truly be said, of over-work, bad management, and cruel treatment ;
and next, the great diificulty there always is of ascertaining the real
age of a horse when the mark has disappeared from his mouth.
Horses are marketable commodities, and very few persons are dis-
posed to lessen their value, by recording very accurately the number
of years that pass over their heads, after the mark is gone ; the con-
sequence is, that they remain about nine or ten years old so long,
that their actual age becomes buried in oblivion, and at last no one
really does know how old they are. Many a man at this moment is
using a horse, perhaps some eight or ten years older than he thinks
he is. I remember many years ago purchasing an active showy-
horse, said to be about the mysterious age of other people's horses,
and there was nothing in his appearance or powers of work to indi-
cate greater age ; but on tracing his history I discovered that he was
twenty-nine years old, and the sire of a veiy large progeny. Now,
if I had not taken the trouble to trace him back I should never have
known within fifteen or sixteen years how old he really was.

I have, at different times, met with four horses who were aU
known to be over forty years old, and were still at work ; one of them
was shot at the age of forty-five, not because he was incapable of fur-
ther work, but because his master saw the servant ill use him. But,
perhaps without taxing my memory for further facts, those supplied
by my own stable in November of last year may sufficiently illustrate
my position, that the natural life of a horse is longer than it is gen-
erally supposed to be. I had at that time six horses in my stable
whose combined ages amounted to one hundred and .forty-five years

6

and five of them are still there, with clean legs and hoofs looking
like colts' hoofs. The sixth I had destroyed last December at the
age of twenty-six. When I purchased him nineteen years ago he
had incipient navicular disease, but I contrived by shoeing and stable
management to keep it at bay all that time.

The patriarch of the lot, who was bred only five miles from Exe-
ter, has just completed his fortieth year ; his early history does not
redound to his credit ; he was a very unruly, unmanageable brute,
and was perpetually changing masters for running away and kicking
carriages to pieces ; two hackney men in succession tried him, but
were obliged to part with him ; at length he was handed over to the
tender mei-cies of a commercial traveller, whose long journeys through
Devon and Cornwall, after a few years, subdued him, and he became
a very useful horse, and at the age of fourteen was sold to a friend of
mine, from whom I purchased him exactly twenty years ago. He is
a high stepper and remarkably handsome, and if you do not look in
his mouth his general appearance would pass muster for nine or ten
years old ; he is perfectly quiet out of the stable, but he had been so
teazed and worried all his life, until he came into my hands, that even
now he will not permit a stranger to enter his box alone. The next
in seniority is tAventy-nine years old, and is the best hack I ever rode.
Seventeen years ago, the smith who usually shod him declai-ed his
feet to be so far gone that he could shoe him no longer ; and he was
on the point of being shot, as "used up," and "quite done for," when
I came to the rescue, and accepted him as a present, with the view of
trying what I could do to put him on his feet again, and the result of
my trial has been seventeen years of very efficient service.

There is no speciality attending the history of the other three : one
is twenty-one years old, and has been in my possession sixteen years ;
another is sixteen years old, and has been in my possession nine
years ; and the last of the six above-named horses is thirteen years
old, and I have had him eight years. The horse I purchased to
replace the one that was shot in December is seven years old, and
was in hai*d work up to the time I bought him, and although he has

11.. O ' o

been only five months in my possession, his feet and legs have won-
derfully improved, and begin to resemble those of my other horses.

If I were asked to account for my horses' legs and feet being in
better order than those of my neighbors, I should attribute it to the
four following circumstances : First, that they are all shod with few
nails, so placed in the shoe as to permit the foot to expand every time
they move ; secondly, that they all live in boxes instead of stalls, and
can move whenever they please ; thirdly, that they have two hours
daily walking exercise when they are not at Avork ; and fourthly, that
I have not a head-stall or rack-chain in my stable : these four circum-
stances comprehend the whole mystery of kee])ing horses' legs fine,
and their feet in sound working condition up to a grood old age.

A 1 r o o

Another case occurs to me, Avhere the same result has followed simi-
lar treatment in a mare I purchased for a friend twelve years ago ;
she was twelve years old when I bought her, and had done a great
deal of work ; she has ever since been shod by the smiths Avho shoe
my horses, has lived in a loose box, is never tied up, and continues to

do her work as pleasantly as ever she did. I may mention, in con-
firmation of the fact, that my horses are never tied up ; that a short
time ago a veterinary surgeon, who had occasion to apply a liniment
to the throat of one of tliem, asked for a halter, and learnt to his
astonishment that there was not one in the stable ; we substituted a
watering bi'idle, and afterwards fastened the horse to the pillar reins,
to prevent his rubbing his neck, instead of adopting the usual plan of
tying him short by the head to the wall : a watering bridle is at all
times preferable to a halter either for commanding or leading a
horse.

I am often assured, when talking of shoeing, that it is quite impos-
sible to persuade country smiths to listen for a moment to any new
suggestion, or to adopt any new plan, that they are an obstinate
prejudiced race, and nothing can induce them to relinquish any of
their old notions. I can only say in reply, that this does not at all
accord with my experience of them as a class : on the contrary, I
have found them, for the most part, to be hard-working, painstaking
men, evincing great interest in their work, and anxious to do it as
well as they could. I do not mean to say that there are no excep-
tions, because I know there are ; but the exceptions do not disprove
the rule.

Before we consent to condemn them in a body let us see how the
matter really stands between them and their employers, who accuse
them of prejudice and obstinacy. We must not forget that they have
been accustomed from the period of their apprenticeship to shoe
horses in one particular manner, which has hitherto given satisfaction,
and, as far as they know to the contrary, they have never lamed a
horse.

We must not be surprised, if, under these circumstances, they
should show great reluctance to relinquish plans which long habit has
rendered almost second nature to them, or if they require to be thor-
oughly convinced of the pi'acticability and superiority of a new plan,
before they consent to give up the old one ; and as it is much more
ditficult to efface what has been already learnt than to teach what is
new, he who undertakes to become an instructor, must at least be
sufficiently master of his subject to be able to point out pretty clearly
the advantages of the plan he proposes over that which he desires to
alter ; to which end he must acquaint himself with the details of his
plan before he ventures into the forge, for an intelligent smith will
make a very accurate estimate of his fitness to teach before he has
been many minutes there ; and I have no doubt but much of the ob-
stinacy and perversity one hears of may be traced to the smith's hav-
ing received impracticable, if not impossible, directions. And surely
it is not very unreasonable in him to object to carry out details which
he does not comprehend, and which he strongly suspects his instructor
is not very clear about, when he knows full well that he would decline
to share the blame with him, in case the experiment should fail, and
the horse cast a shoe.

I have been sometimes surprised at the readiness with which smiths
have yielded their opinion to me, as soon as they found that I really
knew what I was talking about, and that I could not only give them

8

directions, but show them exactly how to carry them out in detail,
and, if I had only possessed the brawny arm which is necessary for
such a pui-pose, that I could have forged the shoe and fitted it to the
foot. They all feel that horseshoeing is open to improvement, and as
a class they are anxious for information that they can depend on, but
they are naturally very shy of relinquishing plans which they have
been long accustomed to for others which they do not comprehend ;
but any gentleman who will take the trouble to acquaint himself with
the princijDle and details of the plan which I advocate, will very soon
become a welcome visitor at the forge, and while he is improving the
condition of his own horses' feet, he will find that he is indoctrinating
the whole district to the great benefit of his neighbors ; for although
they will not take trouble themselves, they are soon ready to avail
themselves of the trouble taken by others, and will send their horses
to the man who can shoe them best, and that causes the other smiths
to look about them and change their plans.

A few years ago I rented a house for the summer near to a coun-
try village, and was very soon waited on by the smith with specimens
of his shoes, and a foot shod in his very best manner ; and as exam-
ples of careful finish they were very pretty things to look at ; but
when I descended from the ornamental to the useful, and began to
point out the defects one after the other, he looked astonished, and
not very well pleased ; he was, however, somewhat consoled by my
telling him that I would have one of my horses brought to his forge
on the following morning, and then I would show him what I meant.
I kept my word, and finding that he entered with interest into my
views, and tried his best to understand and carry them out, I took
some trouble with him, and frequently looked in and directed him at
his work. One day I found him turning store-shoes of a better form
than any I had yet seen in his forge, and observing to him that they
were more like what I meant, he said, " Oh yes, I have got it now,
Sir ; my shoes were all too short to fit as they ought to do ;" and
pointing to some that were hanging against the wall, he added,
" before you came here I used to feel very proud of those shoes, but
now it makes me ill to look at them, and I don't think I could ever
make one like them again." He had become a really good shoer,
and understood how to fit a shoe properly, and I think he would have
found it a difficult job to fall back on his old pattern again. His fame
soon spread, and he obtained the shoeing of all the gentlemen's horses
for several miles around him. Similar results have followed in other
instances where I have bestowed a little trouble, and I must say that
I have invariably received civility and attention at the time and on
many occasions expressions cf great gratitude afterwards.

Many persons have been deterred from interfering with the smith,
because, as they have told me, they knew nothing whatever about the
anatomy or physiology of the horse's foot, and had neither the time
nor the inclination to study it ; but such knowledge is not at all
necessary to a thorough acquaintance witli the principle and practice
of horseshoeing ; if it were, they might well be excused for not
attempting it : all that is really required of them is to take one anat-
omical and one physiological fact on trust, and believe that the horse's

boof is lined by a very sensitive membrane, which must
ever be wounded, and that the hoof itself is elastic, and e^
the weijj^ht of the horse is thrown on the foot, and contraL
taken off again; all the rest is purely meclianical and merely
the exercise of a little thought and patience to understand the ]f. .
pie and apply it. ^

But before I enter on details let me dispose of one subject that has
given rise to much unnecessary thought and controversy — I mean the
very generally entertained notion, that particular kinds of roads and
certain kinds of work call for separate and distinct methods of shoe-
ing— which has greatly complicated and mystified a very simple and
straightforward matter : the truth is, that no system of shoeing is
worth one moment's thought or consideration that will not answer
equally well in every, description of ground, and for every kind of
work.

It has been supposed that the hunter forms a special exception, but
the experience of a large number of gentlemen in various ])arts of the
country during the last ten years has entirely dispelled the fallacy,
and proved beyond dispute that the torture inflicted on hunters by
nailing the shoes from heel to heel, with a view of keei^ing them on
their feet, is an unnecessary act of cruelty perpetrated to support the
notion, that deep ground would pull the shoes off unless they were
secured by extra nails : but if a shoe fits the foot as it ought to do,
and is perfectly fastened to it by five nails, nothing short of a violent
wrench from the smith's pincers can remove it. This has been
proved in numbei-less instances, not only by myself but by others ia
various hunting countries, who have kindly communicated to me the
result of their experience after a fair trial of the plan of shoeing and
general treatment of the horse's foot, which I recommended in a woi'k
I published some years ago on that subject, and which an officer of
Prussian Hussars desired my permission to translate and publish in
German ; and he writes me that he and several of his brother officers
have had their horses shod as 1 have directed, and that they never
lost a shoe. It would be a useless waste of time to go over all the
proofs again ; nevertheless, as I am now wa-iting for agricultural
readers, it is desirable that I should be able to show to them, beyond
the possibility of doubt, that the mode of shoeing which I recommend
will stand the test of the deep clay ground their horses are sometimes
called upon to work in ; and in order to qualify myself to speak with
autliority in this matter, I have lately instituted an experiment which
I tliink will carry conviction to the mind of the most sceptical.

The two subjects of my experiment were horses employed in draw-
ing materials for a large public building in course of erection in a
deep clay meadow, and I chose the particular time for making the
experiment, because the unusual quantity of rain that had fallen
during the preceding six weeks had rendered the ground, both in the
meadow and at the quarry from which the stone was drawn, as deep
and clinging as it is possible to conceive ground to be. One of the
horses was the property of the builder, and the other belonged to the
person who had contracted to draw the stone from tlie quarry, and
whose horses are chiefly employed in drawing either timber or stone,

2

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than which no work can be more trying to the security of horses'
shoes at such a season, and in such a county as Devon. I was pres-
ent at the shoeing of these horses, and saw them both shod with five
nails only in each fore shoe and a clip at the toe. The shoes were
plain waggon-horse shoes, with stamped holes and no fullering. The
builder's horse was a fair average cart horse 15 hands 3^ inches high,
and the shoes that were put on him Aveighed 1 lb. 14 ozs. each. The
contractor's horse was a heavy waggon horse 16 hands and an inch
high ; and I could scarcely have found a fairer subject for my experi-
ment : he has remarkably weak feet, with hoofs full of what smiths
call shaky places, and he is so hot and impetuous in his Avork that the
driver never can prevent him doing much more than his share. I had
one of his shoes measured and weighed just before it was nailed on,
and found it to be 6 inches across from side to side at the quarters,
and 7 inches from toe to heel, and it weighed exactly 2^ lbs., so that
each nail in his shoe had to retain half a pound weight of ii'on and
hold it to his foot.

I visited both the horses at the end of a fortnight, and found their
shoes not only safe on their feet, but not a clench had risen, neither
had either of their shoes shifted in the smallest degree. I was for-
tunate enough to meet the larger horse coming from the quarry with
a load of stone, and anything more satisfactory to me, as regarded my
experiment, or less satisfactory to the poor brute, I cannot conceive ;
for he was literally plastered up to the knees and hocks with a thick
layer of red clay, and the spokes of the wheels were in a like condi-
tion up to the nave, showing pretty clearly the kind of ground he had
had to deal with, and the sort of test that had been applied to the
security of his shoes.

At the expiration of another fortnight I again examined the shoes
of both the horses, and finding those of the larger horse completely
worn out, I had them taken oft" and replaced by new ones fastened by
five nails ; the shoes of the other horse not being Avorn out, I permit-
ted him to carry them another Aveek, and then, considering he had
worn them long enough for my purpose, I had him reshod ; but Avish-
ing to make my experiment as perfect as I could, I had tAVO of the
nails omitted, and shod him Avith three nails only in each fore shoe ;
and at the end of four weeks I saAV him at Avork Avith his shoes safe
on his feet. I do not mention this fact Avith the view of trying to
persuade others to shoe their horses Avith only three nails, although I
have not had more than three nails in a fore shoe of any horse belong-
ing to me for several years past, neither do I intend to increase the
number : I merely record the fact to show that no one need fear to
trust their horses' shoes to the keeping o{ five nails.

The result of the numberless experiments I have made at various
times, on all sorts of horses doing every kind of Avork, is, that there is
but one principle to be observed in horseshoeing, Avhich Avill admit of
no variation or compromise : the shoe must fit the foot, whatever the
shape of the foot may happen to he, and it must be nailed to the hoof
in such a manner as tvill permit the foot to expand to the weight of the
horse ; this latter condition will be best complied Avith by placing
three nails in the outer limb of the shoe, and tAvo in the inner limb

11

between the toe and the commencement of the inner quarter ; a larger
number than five nails can never be required in any shoe of any size,
or under any circumstances, excepting for the sole purpose of coun-
teracting defective and clumsy fitting. I will now proceed to describe,
as shortly as I can, the details of the plan I recommend ; and if it
should appear, to those who have done me the honor to read what I
have already published, that I have repeated myself, I can only
answer that the details .of a fixed plan will admit of no variation in
substance, and very little in words.

The first thing requiring attention is the removal of the old shoes,
which should be done with much more care than is usually bestowed
on it, and without any of that violent Avrenching from side to side one
too often witnesses, whereby the clenches are dragged through the
crust by main force, and the horn wantonly and unnecessarily
destroyed. It is very little trouble to raise 'the clenches with the
buffer, and, if the nails should still retain a firm hold and resist a
moderate effort to displace the shoe, the punch should be used to
loosen them, so as to cause the shoe to come off easily and without
damage to the hoof. The smith will be amply repaid for his trouble
by the unbroken horn he will find to nail to, and the firmer hold he
will obtain for his nails when he comes to nail on the new shoe.
Having taken off the shoe the rasp should be passed round the lower
edge of the crust before the foot is let down, to remove the jagged
edge, and also to ascertain that there are no stubs remaining in the
horn : if the edge is not rasped it is apt to split and break when the
horse moves, which he is sure to do as soon as his foot is on the
gi'ound again. No horse should have more than one foot bared at a
time ; however strong his feet may happen to be, he is sure to stand
quieter on a shod foot than he can on a bare one, and it will prevent
his breaking the crust. A horse with weak flat feet is in positive
misery when forced to sustain his whole weight on a bare foot, while
the opposite foot is held up.

Previous to preparing the foot for the reception of the new shoe,
we must consider, first, the kind of foot we have to deal with ; and
next, the condition of the roads it will have to travel upon ; for it
would be manifestly improper to pare a weak flat sole as much as a
strong arched one, or to pare either as much when the roads are hard
and covered with loose stones as when they are moist and even. No
general rule, therefore, can be laid down that would apply to all kinds
of feet, or indeed to the same foot at all times ; the amount of paring
the foot is to undergo must entirely depend on the above consid-
erations.

A strong foot with an arched sole, when the roads are in good
order, will require to have the toe shortened, the quarters and heels
lowered, and the sole pared, until it will yield in some slight degree
to veiy hard pressure from the thumb ; but on no account should it
ever be pared thin enough to yield to moderate pressure : the angles
formed by the crust, and the bars at the heels, must be cleared out,
and all the dead horn removed therefrom, and the bars should be
lowered nearly to a level with the sole.

A weak flat foot, on the contrary, will bear no shortening of the

12

toe, and very little paring or lowering anywhere ; the heels of such
feet are sure to be too low already, and the sole too thin : in fact, the
less that is done to them the better bej'-ond clearing out the dead horn
from the angles at the heels, and making the crust bear evenly on the
shoe ; but the hollow between the bars and the frog, or the frog
itself, must never be touched by a knife in any foot, whether it be a
weak one or a strong one, and as these latter directions differ so ma-
terially from the usual practice of smiths, I may perhaps be expected
to state my reasons for wishing to enforce them in opposition to what
they no doubt consider a time-honored custom ; I mean, the invete-
rate habit they all have of trimming the frog, and opening out the
heels at every shoeing ; but I think I shall be able to show, that " it
is a custom more honored in the breach than the observance."

The bars are not separate and distinct portions of the hoof, but
simply continuations of the crust reflected or turned back at each heel
in the direction of the centre of the sole, where they meet in a point
and form a triangular space for the reception of the elastic cushion,
usually called the sensible frog : each of these reflected portions, at
its deepest part, rises about an inch into the cavity of the hoof, and is
connected at its upper part, throughout its whole extent, on one edge
with the horny sole, and on the other with the horny frog, whereby
the horny covering of the foot is completed and made continuous.
This doubling back of the crust on each side, from the heel to the
point of the frog, together with the increased thickness of the crust
itself at the extremity of each heel, is evidently designed to keep the
heels apart, and prevent their pressing inconveniently on the struc-
tures within the hoof; and if the substance of the horn be thinned
by paring the sides of it, it is clear that its power of resistance must
be diminished, the natural action of the foot damaged, and the
chance of contraction greatly increased. Many smiths, who are
.merciless in paring the sides of the bars, which ought never to be
touched by a knife, waste much time and patience in preserving the
portion that projects beyond the surface of the sole, which they had
better have pared down nearly to a level Avith the sole, as it only
impedes the removal of the dead horn from the corner of the sole at
the heel, and would have been worn away, if the presence of the shoe
had not prevented it.

The frog may be said to consist of three portions, viz., the horny
frog, the sensitive frog, and a thick elastic cushion, which is interposed
between the sensitive frog and the navicular joint, for the purpose of
protecting this important little joint from injury : the portion, how-
ever, Avith which we are now more immediately concerned, as con-
nected with the mechanical art of shoeing, is the horny frog.

No part of the foot shows the difference between good shoeing and
bad so soon, or so palpably, as the frog. The frog of a foot that has
been well shod for some time presents a full, plump appearance, with
an even surface and a broad oval cleft, with a Avell-defined edge, not
broken through at the back ; whereas a frog, that has been long sub-
jected to bad treatment, is shrunk and hard, with a ragged uneven
surface and a narrow cleft broken through at the back, and extending
up between the bulbs of the heels. The horii of the frog is thinner

13

and of a closer and more delicate texture than the horn of the hoof,
and is evidcntl}' intended not only to protect tlie parts immediately
above it, but alj^o to i)revent the evaporation of the moisture wiiich
keeps these parts in a soft, yielding condition ; but it cuts so easily,
and looks so clean and trim when its surface is pared off", that very
few smiths indeed can be prevailed on to leave it alone, and not even
cut off the rags ; nevertheless they had better do so, for those very
rags which they think it desirable to remove were caused by paring
off the surface of the horn at the last shoeing, whereby a part was
lain bare that never was intended to be exposed to the action of the
air, and which in consequence became dry and hard, and soon
cracked, and the edges having curled outwards formed the rags which
are so offensive to the eye of the smith ; and, if he should be tempt-
ed to remove them, he will again lay the foundation of other cracks
and other rags, until at last the frog will have dwindled down by
small degrees to half its original size. Now if, instead of persisting
in this gradual work of destruction, he would only leave the frog
alone, and never touch it with a knife, the rags in due time would
entirely disappear, and the frog become covered by a coating of newly
secieted horn. The horn of the frog, when left to itself, is always
undergoing a process of exfoliation and reproduction. The exfoliation
for the most part occurs in small particles, resembling the dust which
adheres to Tui-key figs ; but at other times the whole surface of the
frog Avill exfoliate in a mass, leaving a smaller, but still perfect, frog
beneath, covered with sound horn. The small particles of exfoliated
horn may best be seen in the feet of horses shod with leather, where
the artificial covering has prevented their escape ; and so little is this
natural process of exfoliation understood by horse-masters in general,
that I have frequently had my attention gravely directed to the accu-
mulation of these particles, as unmistakable evidence of the leather
having rotted the frog.

The shoe should be neither too light, nor too narrow in the web :
light shoes are apt to bend before they are half worn out, and narrow-
webbed shoes expose the sole and frog to unnecessary injury from
stones in the road. Every fore-shoe should be more or less seated
on the foot-surface, to prevent it pressing on and bruising the sole ;
but a perfectly fiat surface should be preserved around the edge of
the foot-surface of the shoe from heel to heel for the crust to rest
upon. The amount of seating to be employed must be determined by
the description of foot to be shod ; for instance, a broad foot, with a
flat sole and weak horn, will require a wide web, considerably seated,
to prevent it coming in contact with the sole and bruising it ; but a
narrow foot, with an arched sole and strong horn, will require less
width of web and less seating, otherwise the dirt and grit of the road
would become impacted between the shoe and the sole, and cause as
much pressure and injury as the iron would have done.

The safest guide to the proper amount of seating is to apply the
shoe to the foot, and observe whether there is room for a picker to
pass freely between the shoe and the sole ; if there should not be suf-
ficient space for a free passage all round the shoe the seating must be
increased ; and if there should be more than is necessary, it must be

14

diminished. The smith, having carefully prepared the foot, and
selected a shoe with a proper amount of seating for it, has next to cut
off the heels, and fit the shoe to the foot ; and he must always bear
in mind that fitting the shoe to the foot does not mean fitting i\\Q foot
to the shoe — an error that smiths are prone to fall into.

I have very frequently had occasion to remind a smith, that he was
saving himself trouble at the expense of the horse by accommodating
the foot to the shoe, instead of altering the shoe to the foot ; and it
must be confessed, that unless a smith is encouraged to take an inter-
est in his work, by the owner of the horse paying an occasional visit
to the forge, and showing that he, too, is interested, it is very tempt-
ing to him, when he finds the foot and the shoe do not come well
together, to adopt the more expeditious and less
troublesome course of sul)stituting the knife and rasp
for the hammer and anvil. Every forge is expected
to be supplied with stoi'e shoes " turned in the rough,"
and if they were left longer in proportion to their width,
and straighter at the quarters, with the heels wider
apart than we usually find them, the labor of fitting
the foot accurately would be greatly diminished, as we
shall see when we come to consider that part of our
subject. The first thing, however, that demands our
attention is the mode of cutting off the heels to the re-
quii'ed length ; and for this purpose a curved chisel,
as shown in Fig. 1, is a more convenient tool than a
straight one, and saves the smith much trouble in
" filing up" the shoe before he nails it to the foot ; it
removes the corners and rounds the points of the heels
at once, and enables him to fit the heels of the shoe to
the heels of the hoof with greater nicety than he can
possibly do when they are cut off square. The best
rig. 1. manner of proceeding is to remove a small corner
from the outer rim on each side, and a larger and longer por-
tion from the inner rim, as shown by the dotted lines ABC,

in Fig. 2. By this mode
of cutting off the heels
the outer rim of the shoe
is lengthened, and the
inner rim shortened, with-
out diminishing the width
of the web, as shown at
A C, in Fig. 3. After the
heels have been cut ofi^ as
directed above, the nail-
holes should be opened ;
and the best mode of do-
ing it is to make them
pass straight through the
shoe, instead of inclining
inwards in the direction
of the centre of the hoof,
as is almost invariably

15

done, the effect of which is to convert a simple and safe operation
into one of difficulty and
danger, for the nails must
first be driven with their
points inclining inwards,
and then outwards, until
at last they emerge high
up in the thinnest part of
the crust, having split
their way out in the di-
rection of the fibres of the
horn, with a great proba-
bility of some portion of
the shanks lying so close
to the sensitive lining of
the hoof as to press upon
it when the foot is in ac-
tion and expands. Where
the holes are thus made

to incline inwards it requires considerable dexterity to drive the nails
so as to steer clear of the many dangers that lie in the way. I do
not allude to the graver matter of pricking the foot, as it is called, but
to the thousand and one varying degrees of pressure from the shanks
of the nails, causing constant uneasiness, or, it may be, pain in the
foot. If the quick has been wounded the horse soon tells the tale, but
if he is only uneasy from pressure, he bears it patiently, and it is
never known to his master, although it is very frequently the unsus-
pected cause of broken knees.

We hear much about rolling stones in the road causing broken
knees ; a rolling stone is a very convenient scapegoat for a large
amount of bad riding, bad driving, and bad shoeing ; but, I take it,
■we should be much nearer the truth, in nine cases out of ten, if we
attributed the misfortune to misplaced nails, driven through holes
slanting inwards. When the nail-holes are made to pass straight
through the substance of the iron, and the angle at which the hoof
meets the shoe is considered, it will be self-evident that nails, driven
straight through those holes, must cross the grain of the horn and
come out low in the crust, presenting the strongest portion of the
shank for a clench ; and my experience tends to show, that nails so
driven obtain a much firmer hold in consequence of their piercing the
horn across the grain, than nails driven higher up the crust with the
grain.

A few observations on the fuller, or groove in which the nail-holes
are stamped, may not be out of place here, with a view to correct an
error that almost all smiths fall into, of making their fullering-irons
so fine and thin, that the grooves produced by them will not permit
the heads of the nails to sink into them as they ought to do. They
appear to forget that the safety of a half-worn-out shoe depends on
the heads of the nails having sunk well into the groove, and fiiirly
blocked the bottom of the holes. They are all impressed with the
notion that a narrow fuller, with sharp well-defined edges, looks neat

16

and indicates skilful workmanship ; and perhaps it does look neater
than a coarse, open groove, but it is attended with the great disad-
vantage of being much less useful. An open fuller affords more space
for the head of the nail, and prevents its becoming tied in the upper
part of the groove before the lower portion has descended to the bot-
tom of the hole, which invariably happens when the fuller is deep and
narrow.

Horseshoeing at best is but a necessary evil, and cannot be elevated
to the rank of an ornamental art ; smiths had better, therefore, confine
their views to the utilitarian principle entirely, and thereby endeavor
to make it as little hurtful to the horse, and as little inconvenient to
his master, as they possibly can.

Having cut ofi" the heels and opened the nail-holes, the next thing
to be done is to turn up a clip at the toe preparatory to fitting the
shoe to the foot, which latter operation should always be commenced
at the front of the foot, and be gradually and carefully carried back
to the quarters and heels. Every shoe should have a clip at the toe,
to prevent the shoe being driven back on the foot and bending the
nails in the crust ; but I strongly object to the clip, which I often see
turned up on the outside of a shoe, which is not only useless but de-
stroys more horn than two or three nails would do.

No one doubts the fact of horses travelling safer and better in shoes
a week or two old than they do in perfectly new ones ; and this
arises from the fact of their having worn away a portion of the iron
at the toe, and thereby diminished the jar which the foot had previ-
ously received from the front of the toe coming in direct contact with
the surface of the road. In order to relieve the horse from any unne-
cessary jar to the foot I always have the whole breadth of the toe of
the shoe turned up, so as to raise the ground-surface of the shoe at
the toe above the level of the ground, by which arrangement horses
are found to trip less, and put their feet down with greater confidence.
Tlie plan of welding a lump of steel on to the toe of the shoe only
makes bad worse ; it increases the jar, is longer wearing away and
causes the horse^ to trip more and for a greater length of time ;
whereas turning up the toe of the shoe obviates the evil at once, and
makes the shoe last quite as long as the steel would have done. All
feet will not bear the same amount of elevation of the toe : strong
feet will bear a good deal, but flat feet with weak horn will bear only
a little ; still that little should be imparted to the shoe. The old
shoe, placed on a flat surface, will afford a very good guide to the
amount of elevation to be given to the toe of the new shoe, provided
the old one is not worn so much as to be thoi'oughly and entirely
worn out.

A very convenient and handy tool for turning up the toe of a shoe
may be made by welding a piece of bar-iron five inches long, one inch
broad, and somewhat less than a quarter of an inch thick, crosswise
on to each blade of a pair of smith's tongs. Any smith can manufac-
ture such a tool for himself, and will find it very useful by enabling
hira to grasp both limbs of the shoe at the same time, and turn up
the toe over the end of the anvil without twisting the shoe, which he
could not do with common tongs ; and he can easily restore the seat-

17

Fi^r. 4

ins at the toe by merely turning the shoe on the anvil. Fig. 4 will
show this tool in use.

Having turned up the
toe of tlie shoe and fit-
ted it carefully to the
toe of the hoof, the
smith must direct his
attention to the quar-
ters and heels, and
whatever shape they
may happen to take,
that shape must be im-
plicitly followed by the
shoe; whether the quar-
ters be straight or curv-
ed, or the heels narrow
or open, the shoe must
follow the same shape ;
it is a grievous mistake
to suppose, as too many persons do, that it is in the power of the
smith to change the form of the foot by merely changing the form of
the shoe : what are called open-heeled shoes will not make open-
heeled feet. The situation of the nails alone can alter the form of the
foot, either by preventing or permitting the hoof to expand to the
weight of the horse. If the shoe is nailed from heel to heel the hoof
cannot expand, and the foot must become damaged; but if it be nail-
ed, as I direct, with three nails on the outside and two on the inside,
a foot, that has been already damaged by bad shoeing, may to a great
extent be restored by thus permitting the foot to expand.

As a general rule, the first nail on the outside should be placed an
inch and a half from the centre of the toe, the second in the middle of
the quarter, and the third just behind the quarter ; and on the inside,
the first nail should be rather more than an inch from the centre of
the toe, and the second about three-quarters of an inch behind it; by
this arrangement the whole of the inner quarter and heel are left un-
fettered and free to expand, and any undue pressure on the sensitive
parts of the foot, from the descent of the bones into the hoof, is avoid-
ed. P'itting the heels will call for a little extra care at first, as it
involves the abandonment of some deep-rooted prejudices and ground-
less fears. First, the prejudice in favor of square heels projecting
beyond the hoof, both behind and at the sides, must be yielded ; and
the fear lest the smallest portion of the shoe should happen to touch
the frog must be given up, before anything like accurate fitting can
be obtained. The edge of the shoe must be made to correspond with
the edge of the hoof all round, from heel to heel, and to do this effec-
tually, and to keep the web of the shoe as wide at the heels as it is at the
toe, the heels must be brought in until they very nearly touch the frog.
I would not have them bear on the frog, but 1 would rather see them
touch it than be able to lay ray finger between the frog and the shoe.

There are many advantages attending the bringing in of the heels,

and not one single disadvantage to set against them. In the first

place, it removes all the points and projections by which stiff ground

is enabled to pull off the shoe ; in the next place, it affords a good,

3

18

firm, flat surface for the heels of the hoof to rest upon, and, hj bring-
ing the sides of the shoe nearer together, the navicular joint, which
lies in the hoof above the frog and about an inch from its point, is
saved from many an unlucky jar from a stone in the road, by the shoe
receiving it instead of the frog. The shoe must not only fit the edge
of the crust, but the whole of the crust must have an even bearing on
the shoe, and this can only be effected by making the shoe hot
enough to scorch the horn, and applying it to the foot. The quantity
of horn to be thus destroyed, when the foot and shoe have both been
made as level as the smith can make them, is very inconsiderable, and
the heat so applied can do no harm. I would not have the shoe burnt
into its place on the foot witliout previous preparation, as is very often
done to save a little trouble, but I would have the hot shoe applied so
as to insure a close fit all round. A thin, weak hoof will not bear as
much heat, without inconvenience to the horse, as a sti'ong one ; but
as a close fit is of even more importance to a weak hoof than it is to
a strong one, it is essential that the shoe be applied to it hot enough
to scorch the projecting portions of horn, in order that they may be
seen, and removed by a rasp.

It is a very good plan, in fitting the shoe to the inner quarter and
heel, to keep the rim of the ground-surface of the web within the rim
of the foot-surface, somewhat after the fashion of the shoe in common
use for preventing cutting ; it enables the horse to withdraw his shoe
from stiiF ground without the chance of leaving it behind him, which
he will inevitably do if any portion of the shoe is permitted to project
beyond the hoof When the shoe has been carefully fitted to the foot
it must be cooled and " back -holed ;" that is, the nail-holes must be
opened on the foot-surface of the shoe ; and in doing this care must
be taken to break down the outer edge of all the holes, so that the nail
may pass straight through the shoe without any inclination inwards,
and the openings should be made large and free, to prevent the shank
of the nail becoming tied in the hole before the head has been driven
fairly home.

The shoe has .then to be " filed up" preparatory to being nailed to

the foot ; and I may here
observe, that much time
and labor are generally
wasted in polishing por-
tions of the shoe which
might very well be left
alone ; all that is really
necessary is to round oif
the sharp edges, remove
any " burs" that may
project from the surface,
and file the foot-surface
of the heels, as shown at
F, in Fig. 5. Fig. 5
shows the foot-surface of
a near fore-shoe ; A, the
clip at the toe ; B 1,
the outer quarter ; B 2,

B2

19

Bl

the inner quarter ; C 1, the outer heel ; C 2, the inner heel ; D,
the seating; E, an even flat surface from heel to heel for the crust to
bear upon, and in which the nail-holes must be placed. They must
never be permitted to encroach on the seating, but be always confined
to this flat surface; F, the ends of the heels filed away in a direction
upwards and outwards, the object being to prevent pressure on the
frog Avithout diminishing the width of the web on the ground-surface
of the shoe. Fig. G, the ground-surface of the same shoe. A, the
toe turned up out of the line of wear ; B 1, the outer quarter ; B 2,
the inner quarter ; C j^

1 and C 2, the heels ;
Avith D, the web as Avide
as at any other portion
of the shoe ; E, the ful-
ler. It Avill be observ-
ed that the inner quar-
ter of the shoe, marked
B 2 in each of the fig-
ures, is considerably
straighter than the out-
er quarter marked B 1,
which is the natural
shape of a well-formed
foot : the inner quarter
is not only straighter
and more upright than
the outer quarter, but
the crust is thinner and
more elastic, and consequently expands in a greater degree to the
horse's Aveight ; but when Ave talk of the hoof being elastic and the
foot expanding, we would by no means have it inferred that they
bear any relation to the elasticity or expansion of India-rubber ; if
they did, the bones of the foot Avould be thrust through the hoof dur-
ing violent action, or in a doAvn leap. The elasticity and expansion
are small in degree, scarcely exceeding the eighth of an inch in the
feet of most horses, that have been several times shod, but they are
most important in their consequences, by affording exactly the amount
of enlargement of the cavity necessary for the descent of the bones of
the foot, without squeezing the sensitive parts Avhich line the hoof

Before I say anything about nailing the shoe to the foot, I have a
feAV observations to offer on the nails usually employed for the pur-
pose, Avhich ai-e very defective in form and ill-contrived for obtaining
a firm and lasting hold, although I am bound to confess that I have
lately seen a manifest improvement in some of the nails of commerce ;
but the general run of them are made Avith heads so short, square
and broad at the top, and so small and narrow at the bottom, Avith
shanks springing suddenly from them, that the upper part becomes
tied in the fuller before the loAver part has reached the bottom of
the hole, and the consequence is, that the bottom of the hole is
occupied by the shank alone, and before the shoe is Avorn out the

20

head of the nail is gone, and little more than a brad remains to
retain the shoe.

The smiths Avho shoe my horses make their own nails, and I re-
commend others to do the like, at least for the better class of horses ;
it gives them an opportunity of choosing their rods, making their nails
of a better shape, and cooling them more gradually than the whole-
sale manufacturers do, whereby they are rendered tougher and less
liable to break. The head of the nail should be oblong on the top,
straight-sided at the upper part, and die away gradually into the
shank with a broadish shoulder, to fill the opening made by " back-
holeing " the shoe ; hence the necessity for these openings being
larger and freer than they are usually made. A nail so formed will
always retain the semblance of a head, and can never be reduced to
a mere headless brad. The shank should be less taper, and the
point less elongated, than those of the nails in common use. The
shorter point and broader shank supply a firmer and better clench.
Fig. 7 represents the two nails I have been en-
deavoring to describe ; but a comparison of the
letters attached to each will perhaps convey more
clearly what I mean than my words may have
done. When the nail-holes are in the right
places and pass straight through the shoe, and
the shoe has been pi'operly fitted to the foot, the
difficulty of nailing it on is reduced to nothing,
and might almost be handed over to a carpenter
to do with as much confidence as to a smith ; the
nails have only to be driven straight, and they
must pass through the shoe, across the substance
of the horn, avoid the sensitive parts altogether,
and come out in their right places, presenting the
strongest portion of the shank for a clench, in-
stead of the thin narrow point ; the smith has
then only to twist oif the projecting portion of
the nails, cut a notch in the hoof to receive the
turned-down clench, and bury it with his ham-
mer in the notch so formed, and not touch it
again with a rasp ; in fact, a rasp should on no account whatever be
applied to the surface of the hoof above the clenches ; it tears and
destroys nature's covering, designed to keep the horn moist and tough,
and renders it dry and brittle.

I shall, no doubt, astonish some persons when I assert that nearly
all the evils incident to horseshoeing are attributable to the affectation
and dandyism of the smith, who is not contented to follow a necessary
and useful art, simple in its mechanical parts, but calling for the exer-
cise of some judgment in its application, but he must import into it
dangerous difficukies and mischievous ornament : for instance, he
assumes that a deep naiTOw fuller, with small nail-holes inclining
inwards, and still smaller openings on the foot surface of the shoe,
present a neat, trim appearance, and shoAV that he is master of his
art ; knowing full well, that nothing but long jiractice could enable
any one to navigate a nail safely through a channel beset by so many

21

dangers ; but he entirely overlooks the fact that the power to do so
has nothing to recommend it but the danger and risk attending the
pertbrmance. Again, he imagines, that a hoof carefully rasped all
over imparts an air of finish to his Avork, of which he feels proud, for-
getting altogether that he has removed a most important covering
from the hoof, for which no amount of ornamental finish can com-
pensate.

I am anxious again to impress on smiths and their employers that
horseshoeing is at best but a necessary evil, and that any attempt to
raise it to the rank of an ornamental art must be attended with dam-
age to the horse and inconvenience to its owner. My sole object is
to render it as safe, simple, and useful as possible ; to divest it of all
difficult and dandy crotchets in its application, and reduce it to one
principle, to be carried out in the shoeing of all sorts of horses, at all
sorts of work.

This principle, which admits of no variation, may be summed up as
follows : the shoe must fit the foot from heel to heel, whatever the
shape of the foot may be, and the crust must have an equable bearing
on the shoe all round ; the toe of the shoe must have a clip in the
centre, and, when the foot will bear it, the toe must be elevated from
the ground ; the nail-holes must be so placed as not to encroach on
the inner quarter, but leave the inner quarter and heel free to ex-
pand, and they must pass straight through the shoe ; the frog must
never be touched by a knife, or the surface of the hoof by a rasp.
The detail may fairly be left to the judgment of the smith, who will
be able to determine the de-
scription of shoe best calcu-
lated to meet the requirements
of the foot that he has to deal
with ; he will have to consider
whether it is strong and up-
right, or weak and flat, and
be guided by those circum-
stances as to the substance,
width of web, and amount of
seating the shoe must possess,
and also the degree of eleva-
tion of the toe the foot will
bear. These are matters of
detail infringing no part of the
principle, and may and ought
to be left to the experience
and judgment of the smith.
Fig. 8 represents the ground
surface of a near fore foot,

shod as it ought to be, and Fig. 9 represents the same foot, with the
shoe rendered transparent, showing the portions of the foot that are
covered and protected by it, A the crust, B the bars, and C the
heels ; it will be seen, moreover, how bringing in the heels dimin-
ishes the opening of the shoe and lessens the chance of stones in the

22

road bruising the frog ; one side or other of the shoe would ahght
upon them and save the frog. I may observe in passing, that corns
have never failed to disappear under this mode of shoeing ; they are

always the consequence of
bad shoeing, and good shoe-
ing always removes them. I
could not kee}) a corn in my
stable, if I desired it ever so
much, unless I altez'ed my
plan of shoeing. A large
number of flat-footed horses
cannot go safely at any time
without some protection over
the sole, and all horses would
be benefited by it when the
roads are strewed with loose
stones ; but it is a mistake to
suppose that leather, or any
substitute for it, inserted be-
tween the shoe and foot, calls
for a greater amount of fast-
ening than five nails ; they
Avill retain a shoe, with leather
under it, as firmly as if the leather were not there : all that is re-
quired is, to make the leather fit the shoe as accurately as I desire
the shoe to fit the foot, and that no projecting portions be left either
behind or at the sides of the heels, and instead of the leather being
cut square at the heels, I would have it slightly ai-ched inwards from
heel to heel. It is necessary, however, to prepare the foot, before
the leather is put on, and the best way of doing it is to smear the
whole lower surface of the foot and frog with common tar ; gas-tar
must be especially avoided, as it dries and hardens the horn, instead
of keeping it moist and promoting its growth, as common tar does ;
then the hollow on each side between the frog and the crust, from
the point of the frog back to the heels, should be filled with oakum
dipped in tar, and pressed down until the mass rises somewhat above
the level of the frog on each side, and gives it the appearance of
being sunk in a hollow. A small portion of oakum may be spread
over the sole in front of the frog, but none must be put on the frog
itself excepting the bit in the cleft, which is necessary to prevent
dirt Avorking in from behind. The best way of dealing with this bit
is to pull some oakum out straight, twist it once or twice, fold it
in the centre, then dip it in tar and press it into the cleft, and
carry the straggling ends across the frog, to mix with the mass on
the side of it. Oakum is a much better material for stopping the feet
than tow.

The usual mode of stopping the feet is to take a large wad of tow
and spread it over the whole of the sole and frog in one mass,
which is most objectionable, inasmuch as it causes a constant pressure
on the frog, which is just what the stopping, to be at all useful,

23

vs?

Fis. 10.

should prevent. Fig. 10 shows the stopping, properly placed in the
foot, and Fig. 1 1 shows the aj)- ^^y

pearance the same foot would
present Avhen properly shod
with leather. Just as I had
proceeded thus far with my
suhject, I received a letter
from a gentleman in the north
of Devon, containing the fol-
lowing anecdote, and as it
bears on the matter I have in
hand, I will at once record it.
He appears to be a zealous
advocate for the system of
shoeing I have recommended,
which I gather from his let-
ters, for 1 have not the pleas-
ure of his acquaintance. He
tells me that a short time ago
he sent his bailiff to a sale
some ten miles off, and di-
rected him to take a very hot
pony he possesses, which had
never been previously used
excepting in the plough : this
pony was shod with only four
nails in each fore shoe, and he
cast one of them by the way.
The bailitf took him to the
nearest forge, and told the
smith to put on another, and
at the same time called his
attention to the way in which
his shoes were made and put
on. His reply was, " I never
saw a horse shod like this ;
it will never do for this coun-
try ; no wonder he cast his
shoe : but I'll put one on my
way, and I warrant he won't throw that

Accordingly the shoe was
put on, nailed inside and out with eight nails, and two or three days
afterwards the pony went to plough agahi in some stithsh clay for an
hour or two, and when his work was finished it was found that he had
left his new shoe behind him somewhere in the clay, but the other
shoe, with four nails in it, was safe on his foot.

The fact is, that a larger number than five nails are never required
excepting for the purpose of counteracting defective fitting, and in
this case the fitting Avas clearly so bad that even eight nails could not
hold it, although placed in the small shoe of a pony. I may mention
here that a few days ago my groom picked up a shoe in the road with
nine nails sticking in it, and I was struck with his observation on

24

finding it. He said, " if this had been one of our shoes, sir, with only
three nails in it, there would have been a pretty talk about it ; but as
there are nine, no one will say anything about it : " and I have no
doubt of the correctness of his conclusion, for human nature is ])rone
to be very tender over the misfortunes of long-cherished prejudices,
but merciless in its visitations on the failure of any attempt to correct
them.

The hind foot is differently formed from the fore foot, and requires
to be differently shod ; nevertheless, the same principle of fitting the
shoe to the foot, whatever its shape may be, bringing in tlie heels
close to the frog and placing the nail-holes so as to permit the inner
quarter and heel to expand, applies with equal force to the hind as it
does to the fore shoes. One of the great mistakes smiths fall into in
shoeing hind feet is squaring the toe, and placing a clip on each side
of it, with a view, as they say, of preventing the horse striking the
toe of his hind shoe against the heel of his fore shoe, and producing
the disagreeable sound, called " forging ;" but as a horse never does
forge with his toe, the plan of squaring it and the reason assigned for
it equally fail in their object, and, like many other fallacies connected
with the art of horseshoeing, produce the very results they were
intended to obviate.

A horse forges by striking the outer rim of each side of the hind
shoe, just where it turns backward, against the inner rim of the fore
shoe, just behind the quarters ; therefore the broader the toe of the
hind shoe is made by the squaring and the clips, the more likely the
horse is to strike it against the fore shoe. It happens in this way :
the horse fails to carry his fore foot forward quickly enough to get it
out of the way of the hind foot, and the toe of the hind shoe is thrust
into the opening of the still held up fore shoe, and the outer edge of
the hind shoe strikes against the inner rim of the fore shoe and pro-
duces the sound. I have entirely cured several horses of forging by
merely causing the corners of the artificially-squared toe to be re-
moved and the toe restored to its natural form.

The best mode of treating the toe of the hind shoe of all horses is
to make it I'ounding and rather pointed, and to turn up a small stout
clip in the centre : the toe should be tolerably thick, as the wear is
always great at this part of the shoe, and the back edge should be
rounded with a file, particularly for horses at all likely to be put to
fast work ; it prevents the chance of " overreach," which, like forging,
is often erroneously attributed to the front of the toe, but is invaria-
bly caused by the back edge, which, in a half-worn-out shoe becomes
as sharp as a razor. The accident is very properly named, for the
horse really overreaches the fore foot with the hind foot, and the back
edge of the toe of the hind shoe in its return passage to the ground
strikes the soft part of the heel of the fore foot, and often produces a
wound that is very troublesome and difficult to heal.

Tiie only other portions of the hind shoe which require special
attention are the heels, and in dealing with them we must dejjart
widely from the principle I have hitherto advocated of following na-
ture as closely as possible. We are compelled to have recourse to
art, not, however with a view of assisting, much less with a view of

25

improving, nature's contrivances, but for the sole purpose of counter-
acting what, it must be confessed, is to a large extent a necessary
interference on the part of man. Nature made horses with fiat heels,
but she put no sharp bits in their mouths ; she left them free to choose
their own time for stopping and their own mode of doing it ; but as
soon as they are subjected to the control of man, his heavy hand and
sharp bit pull them up without warning, and without the smallest
reference to the position they may chance to be in at the time, or
indeed without reference to anything but his own sudden impulse.
We must therefore do all we can to guard the poor horse against the
numberless strains und injuries incident to his changed condition, and
the best mode of effecting it is to raise the heels of the shoe, and keep
the natural heels as far from the ground as is practicable without
throwing the foot too much on the toe.

The plan I have adopted for many years past is to have the heels
forged longer and deeper than is commonly done, and when the rag-
ged ends have been cut off, the heels are made red hot, and the shoe
placed in the vise with the heels upwards and projecting ; the smith
then hammers them down, to shorten and condense them, until the
mass is reduced to about an inch and a half in length ; he then re-
moves the shoe from the vise and makes the top, bottom, and sides of
the heels flat on the anvil, preparatory to fitting the shoe to the foot,
taking care that both heels are of an equal height. This plan affords
a larger and more even surface of support than mere calkins would
do, and is better for fast work ; but calkins are very useful for heavy
draught, provided they are made of an equal length at each heel.
Nothing is more distressing to a horse than working in shoes that
bear unevenly on the ground, twisting and straining his joints at every
step he takes.

Some horses have a habit of striking the foot or shoe of one side
against the fetlock joint of the other side either with their fore or
hind feet, and various devices have been at different times suggested
as a remedy for the evil ; but as each horse has his own mode of
doing it, much difficulty is often experienced in hitting upon the right
one. I have frequently solved the difficulty by placing a boot, or
piece of cloth covered with damp pipe-clay, over the injured part, and
then causing the horse to be trotted along the road, and he generally
returns with some of the pipe-clay adhering to the offending portion
of the opposite foot or shoe, as the case may be, pointing out pretty
clearly the part to be lessened or removed. The adoption of this
simple plan has saved many a horse from months of torture arising
from ill-contrived shoes and misapplied remedies.

As a general I'ule, horses' shoes should be removed once between
each fresh shoeing ; but this, like all general rules, admits of excep-
tions, for if a horse wears out his shoes in less time than a month,
they had better not be removed, or if he has a weak, brittle hoof, and
does not carry his shoes longer than five or six weeks, they had bet-
ter remain untouched, as such feet grow horn very slowly, and are
rather injured than benefited by frequent removal of the shoes ; but
a horse with strong feet, who carries his shoes over a month, should

26 '

have them removed and refitted at the end of a fortnight oi" three
weeks, dependent on the time his shoes are likely to last.

The treatment, or I might almost call it the ill-treatment, that
horses' feet receive in the stable requires a good deal of revision, and
might very well commence with the all but universal custom of wash-
ing the feet and legs with cold water the moment the horses return
to the stable from their work, when they are often heated, tired, and
exhausted. Nothing can be more injudicious than subjecting them to
the sudden chill, caused by a liberal application of cold water to their
legs and feet at such a time, and then leaving them to dry as best they
can. The amount of cold produced during the process of evapora-
tion is so great, that the poor beasts remain in a state of chilled
wretchedness for many hours before they become thoroughly warm
again. If their legs and feet must be washed as soon as they return
from their work, let it be done with Avater that is quite hot, and let
them be rubbed dry immediately ; they will then feel warm and com-
fortable, instead of being cold and miserable ; but as many stables are
not provided with hot water at command, the best plan is not to wash
them at all when they first come in, but merely to pick out the feet,
clean oif the dirt, and leave them for several hours, until the circula-
tion has recovered itself and subsided into a natural state, or even
until the following morning, when they may be safely washed with
cold water, and the delay will do no harm.

Horses' feet are generally kept too dry in the stable ; they all re-
quire moisture, and the best way of applying it is to surround the
hoof by a wet swab, and keep it on for a few hours during the early
part of the day, before the horse has been to work, but it must never
be put on after his return from work. The feet should be stopped at
night, and the best thing to do it with is fresh cow-dung, without any
admixture of clay ; when clay is added, the heat of the foot dries it,
and the stopping becomes hard and does the foot more harm than
good. Many persons, to save themselves a little trouble, substitute
horse-dung for cow-dung ; but they will do well to forego the whole
of the trouble, and not stop the loot at all, rather than use horse-
dung for the purpose.

It is a very good plan to smear the hoofs, sole, and frog all over
with some emolieht dressing every morning, as soon as the horse has
been cleaned and got ready for the day ; it need not interfere with
the use of the wet swabs, which may with advantage be placed over
it. I have used the following "preparation for many years in my
stable, and have found it to be very efficient in preserving the natural
covering of the hoof in a good healthy state, and, as a necessary con-
sequence, the horn beneath it elastic and tough : — To a pound and a
half of lard add a quarter of a pound of beeswax, a quarter of a
pound of common tar, and a quarter of a pound of honey ; melt the
lard and beeswax together, and then stir in the tar and honey : they
require to be stirred for some little time, until the mass begins to set.
I am informed that the addition of two or three ounces of glycei'ine
Avill prevent the mass becoming too hard, and I have no doubt, from
the peculiar oily properties of glycerine and the numerous pur-
poses for which I find it is used in surgery, that it would prove a val-

27

uable addition to the hoof-dressing. Whut is required is some cover-
ing that shall prevent the escape of the natural moisture of the hoof,
and at the same time be emolient, adhesive, not too fluid, and free
from any irritant.

Various causes have combined during the last few years to enhance
the value of horses of every description, and it has become incumbent
on every one, whose attention may have been particularly called to
the subject, to communicate any information his experience and care-
ful observation has supplied him with, and which he believes may be
of use to his neighbors, by arousing them from the state of apathy
into which many of them have permitted themselves to fall concern-
ing a matter of so much importance to them commercially and per-
sonally as the soundness of their horses' feet.

Dixfield, December, 1857.

r NO. 3. n
Lnew series.J

PRIZE ESSAY

FAIRS.

BY

ALLEN W. DODGE,

OF HAMILTON, MASS.

BOSTON :

1858.

J. H. EASTBURN'S PRESS.

ESSAY.

In offering its prize for the best essay on the advantages to be
derived from establishing regular fairs or market-days throughout the
State, for the sale and exchange of agricultural products, it is pre-
sumed that the Society did not mean to consider the question as set-
tled in favor of such fail's ; but wished rather to elicit inquiry into
their merits as compared with the prevailing modes of disposing of
the products of the farm ; and if, upon a careful and candid consid-
eration of the question, it should be found that thei'e were sufficient
and weighty reasons for the establishing of such fairs, that then some
practical plan should be proposed for this purpose.

These fairs or market-days, which in fact are nothing more than a
periodical concourse of people at a stated place for selling and buying
agricultural commodities and for hiring laborers, have long been in
successful operation in Great Britain. To the farmers there they
are of great importance, constituting their chief, or perhaps their
only, opportunities of effecting profitable sales or purchases of stock.
The different breeds of neat-stock, of horses, of sheep and of swine,
are exposed to sale, often in large numbers and of great excellence,
at the local fairs in the quarter where they are raised ; and they
attract to them dealers from a distance, with the certainty that they
can find just the description of animals they are in want of. This,
with the local attendance, usually ensures a brisk business. And so
great is the convenience of a market-day considered to be to the
neighborhood in which it is held, that new fairs are constantly spring-
ing up, the only limitation to their number being the amount of busi-
ness which may be controlled by them.

Besides live-stock, fruit, vegetables and grains find purchasers at
these fail's, and they are offered for sale either in bulk or by sample,
the latter being the more usual way of disposing of large quantities of
any commodity. Most of these fairs, too, have a well-known and
specific character, and are noted, some for the superior quality of one
kind of stock or of produce, and others for that of another kind. And
they often receive their name from the predominant article exposed
to sale, as, for example, a fair at which large quantities of cherries
are presented, is called the Cherry Fair, and one of which sheep is
the characteristic feature is called a Sheep Fair.

But in this country, or at least in New England, we have nothing
answering to these fairs or market-days. The nearest approach to
them are the cattle markets established in the immediate vicinity of
our largest cities, and mainly for the supply of the meat for their
consumption, as those held weekly at Brighton and Cambridge, in
our own Commonwealth, and which are the only markets of any ex-
tent for the sale of live-stock, within her borders. These, however,

diiFer in some important particulars from tbe fairs proposed for con-
sideration. They ai'e exclusively for the sale and purchase of live-
stock, and that stock is mostly brought from a distance, sometimes
even from the far West. They afford a good opportunity for farmers
in the surrounding country to purchase such animals as they stand in
need of, and they are resorted to very generally by them for this
object. But they are not intended to encourage the sale of stock
by these farmers, for the very obvious reason that but little or no
stock is raised by them. They are also very inconveniently located,
being at one extremity of the State, and therefore can be attended
by the larger part of the farming population only at great expense.

What, then, would be some of the benefits of regular fairs or market-
days, established throughout the State, for the sale and exchange of
agricultural products — benefits that might reasonably be expected
from them ? In the first place, they would offer to every enterpris-
ing farmer in their neighborhood a home market, or a market near
at hand and easy of access. Studded all over as Massachusetts is —
especially on her eastern borders — with cities and large towns and
manufacturing villages, it might be thought that the farmers are
amply supplied with good markets and at their very doors. To
some extent this is indeed true, but it is equally true that very
many farmers — a majority perhaps — are obliged to travel eight or
twelve miles and sometimes more, in order to reach their nearest
market town. The loss of time in thus travelling to and from market,
and the wear and tear of horse and vehicle, are no inconsiderable
items of expense to the farmer who is placed in this unfavorable
position in regard to markets. Suppose that he follows the market
weekly for two thirds of the year, there are then thirty-five days to
be deducted from the working-days of the year, and if in the fall he
goes to market two or more times in a week, the number would be
increased fully to fifty days, including the occasional days in winter
devoted to this object.

But the establishing of regular market-days in towns near to these
farmers, would prevent very materially this heavy loss of time and
the expense, to which they are now subjected. If there were twelve
such market-days in a year, that is, monthly markets, where they
would be sure of finding purchasers, they would save the difference
between twelve and fifty days of time, which they then would have to
spend on the farm in increasing its productions, besides making a
corresponding saving in the service of horse and wagon. This sav-
ing to the farmer may perhaps be more sensibly measured and appre-
ciated, by considering what has been so justly stated by Henry C.
Carey, in the Plough, Loom and Anvil, for September, 1851, in
respect of labor.

" The first of all the taxes to be paid by labor is that of transporta-
tion. It takes precedence even of the claims of government, for the
man who has labor to sell or exchange must take it to the place at
which it can be sold. If the market be so far distant that it will
occupy so large a portion of his time in going to and returning from
his work, as to leave him insulficient to purchase food enough to pre-
serve life, he will perish of starvation. If it be somewhat less distant,

he may obtain a small amount of food. If brought near, he may be
well fed. Still nearer, he may be well fed and poorly clothed.
Broug^ht to his door, so as to make a market for all his time, he will
be well fed, well clothed, well housed, and he will be able to feed,
clothe, lodge, and educate his children."

What is here said of labor applies with equal force to the products
of labor, the nearer the market the more perfect is the power to ex-
change them and the higher is their price. Trite as is Franklin's
provei-b, it is not the less true, that '' time is money." And yet our
New England farmers, trained as they are to habits of thrift and
economy in other particulars, and certainly not wanting in any of the
essential qualifications for trade, seem, too many of them, in this im-
portant matter of marketing their produce, to set scarcely any value
at all upon time. But if their time be worth to them any thing at all,
if it will yield any return when skilfully employed, it surely ought
not to be thus misspent, not to say squandered in a reckless and
shameful manner.

In the second place, mai-ket-days, by bringing the purchaser to the
producer, or rather by creating a half-way place and common ground
of meeting for busine?s, instead of the producer being obliged, as is
now most frequently the case, to go to the pui'chaser with his com-
modities, would tend to make better prices and quicker and more cer-
tain sales for them. As at present managed, the farmer takes or
sends to his nearest market town such things as he has to dispose of,
and unless he has a regular set of customers, he may be put to much
trouble and inconvenience to find a purchaser, and must then often
sell to a disadvantage. If, on the other hand, there is collected a
large number of buyers at a stated time and place, and there are
assembled such products of the farm as all are desirous of purchasing,
it is clear that there will be more or less competition, and that sales
will be readily effected at remunerating prices.

The tendency of trade in this country is to centralization. The
large manufacturers of cotton and Avoolen goods and of boots and
shoes, instead of selling at their factories, have their places for making
sales in the metropolis. And where the manufjxcturer and the sales-
man ai-e united in the same person, it makes but little difference
whether the factory and the shop are in one and the same place or at
a distance from each other. But where the manufacturer sells his
goods to the merchant, who buys to sell again, — as is the case with
boots and shoes — then it makes oftentimes all the difference to the
manufacturer, of a living profit by the sale of his goods, or no profit
at all, whether the purchaser comes to the manufacturer, or the
manufacturer goes to the purchaser. The scripture adage — " It is
naught says the buyer," — will operate in the former case with unre-
stricted vigor, while in the latter it will fail of its object to depreciate
the price of that which it is known is wanted by the purchaser.

In the third place, no small advantage would accrue to the farmer
by the establishing of regular market-days, from their tendency to
equalize the prices of agricultural products. At present, prices are
left to depend too much upon caprice and accident, and but little
difference is made between different qualities of the same article.

6

An inferior article often brings as much as, or more than, a superior
one ; so that the sale of agricultural products resembles more a lot-
tery than a fair and equable traffic. <' What luck to day ?" is the
usual interrogatory put to the farmer on his return from market,
meaning thereby not whether a sale was effected of his produce, but
at what rates. And as a consequence of this uncertainty in prices,
there is but little inducement to prepare for the market any com-
modity— such as butter or cheese — of a superior quality, when it is
well understood that as a matter of dollars and cents, an inferior one,
requiring less time and labor in its production, will pay much better.
The advantage of an open market where products of a similar kind
are exposed to sale side by side, is that a standard of prices is readily
fixed, each takes its place according to its merit and commands the
price to which it is fairly entitled. And this advantage enures to the
buyer as well as the seller, and gives character and stimulus to the
market.

In the fourth place, in connection with this benefit and closely allied
to it, is the healthy emulation which is excited by bringing different
specimens of the same products into comparison with one another.
Competition of the right kind at once springs up — a competition to
excel in the quality of the article pi-oduced and not merely in the
price obtained for it. The man who has been contented to produce
an ordinary article, because he has generally obtained a good price
for it, or because he has never seen any thing superior to it, is stimu-
lated by the success of his neighbor, both as to the quality and price
of his products, to produce a better ; whilst the other to maintain his
advantage and to avoid the mortification of being surpassed by his
competitor, increases his skill and pains-taking. It is thus that pro-
gress in all the arts is effected, aud it is only thus that progress in the
important art of agriculture is to be achieved.

Besides this beneficial result, these fairs would tend to diffuse infor-
mation, just as our cattle shows do, by promoting intercourse be-
tween men engaged in a common pursuit, and bringing their minds
into contact on subjects connected with it. Enquiry into the differ-
ent processes by which results are obtained in the various branches
of husbandry is thus excited, and the why and the wherefore of each
are freely discussed. It cannot be otherwise than that the farmer
must retui-n from these fairs a wiser man, or if he thought that all
wisdom would die with him, that this conceit must be rubbed out of
him by the friction to which he has there been subjected. It often
happens, for want of this intercourse among farmers, this interchange
of opinions and mutual comparison of skill and intelligence, that indi-
viduals exhibit an overweening pride in respect of certain processes
or products, which is not warranted by facts and is simply ridiculous.
One of these self-sufficient farmers, who had always in his own estima-
tion the best of every thing, was heard to utter the boast, when
speaking of the prospects for a hay crop, " that he should have had
the best in the county, if his hay-seed had only caught !"

There is no denying that as a class our fanners are set in their
opinions, whether well or ill founded, and this arises as much from
their living comparatively by themselves, as from that independence

of character, which springs from their occupation. The commercial
intercourse of these fairs would supply just what is wanting to many
of our farmers, it would liberalize their views and enlarge the sphere
of their obsei'vation, and as a necessary consequence agricultural
knowledge Avould be advanced. Indeed these fairs would become a
school for the young farmer, and for all farmers who were not too old
to learn. The various breeds of stock could here be learned, their
points noted, their peculiar marks of excellence ascertained and a vast
amount of experience and information in regard to them gained.
Trained in such a school, our farmers would become much better
judges than they now are, of farm stock. And will any one pretend
that it is not vital to the interests of the farmer to be able to judge of
a good cow or of a good pair of working cattle, so as to be seldom
disappointed in making his purchases ? Should he not here as in
other transactions be able to think for himself, and if need be to give
a reason for his opinion ? Will he not at least have more self-respect
and command better the respect of others, than by a blind and hap-
hazard way of doing his business ?

The farmer needs to be well versed in the knowledge of buying
and selling, and this knowledge can be acquired only by observa-
tion and the exercise of his own faculties. Many farmers fail here —
they raise good crops and they harvest them in good order — -but when
they come to dispose of them they are at fault ; they are either too
early or too late in making sales, and have usually the worst end of
the bargain. Now why is this ? Mainly for want of practical ex-
perience in trade. The narrow round of their customers gives no
opportunity for them to learn, and they go through life with but little
skill in this the financial department of husbandry. The establishing
of market-days, by collecting large numbers of buyers at one place,
and by the competion excited thereby, would give to the farmer
more tact in trading than it is possible for him now to acquire.

In the last place, these market-days or fairs would tend to concen-
trate New England farming upon fewer products, by making near
and certain markets for them. As it is now, our farm products ai*e
too varied — we raise a little of every thing, and not enough of any
one thing to make it profitable, from the expense of disposing of
them. Of many articles raised on the farm, the little surplus over
what is wanted for home consumption is taken to market. As a con-
sequence, sales are uncertain and the proceeds come in by driblets.
And there is at present little inducement to go largely into any one
production. But create a fixed market near at hand, and our farm-
ing would at once shape itself accordingly. One farmer would take
to neat stock, another to sheep and another to pigs, and they would
all aim to have the best breeds, and the best animals to take to the
market. Quick sales, too, would be had for them, if it was known, as
it would be, when and where they were to be offered for sale. At the
same market the farmer could buy what he is now forced to raise or
to purchase at great disadvantage. The farmer who went into stock
raising, would not be likely to raise all other farm products, as he
could find them at hand, on market-day, much cheaper. There would
thus be a division of agricultural labor that would be for the common

8

good. Few farmers in this State think of" raising their own wheat,
as they can buy flour much cheaper ; and so it will be of many other
farm products, when these markets are once established.

We have dwelt thus at length on the general advantages of regular
fairs or market days, if established throughout the State ; let us now
consider some of the particular benefits to be derived from them.
Every farmer wishes, more or less times in the year, to purchase live-
stock, either young animals to keep over winter, stores to fat, milch
cows to recruit his dairy, or working oxen, or a bull, or a horse, or
swine, sheep or poultry. Some of these are sure to be needed by
him, and he must either ride round among the surrounding farmers,
or he must go to Brighton or Cambridge, to make his purchases.
The former course is attended with much loss of time and vast un-
certainty of finding the precise animals wanted. The latter involves
much expense, and the inconvenience of making the desired purchase
at a distance from home, which distance must be travelled by the
animals as well as himself, to reach home.

Now, if there were a cattle fair held monthly or quarter-yearly in
his neighborhood, he might at a trifling expense I'esort to it with the
certainty or high probability of making his purchases, and he can
return with them the same day to his farm. Or suppose that he has
an ox which he wishes to mate, he can drive him to the fair and he
may there meet with another fai'mer similarly situated, and thus the
two are brought into a position to make some sort of a trade, which
may be mutually advantageous. Now these men might have ridden
about a week or more exploring barnyards and fields for an odd ox —
and what farmer's experience does not illustrate the supposed case ?
— and perhaps be unsuccessful at last.

Again, many farmers wish to purchase in the fall young stock to
keep over winter, generally heifers expected to calve in the spring.
Heretofore, when cattle travelled on foot in droves to the Brighton
market, they came so near their doors as to present a good opportu-
nity for such farmers to make their purchases. But now live-stock is
mostly transported to the large markets by the rail cars, and there is
hardly any alternative for the farmer to make his purchases, but at
these distant markets. Were local lairs or market-days established,
then there would doubtless be droves of cattle purchased at the large
markets at Cambridge and Brighton, and di'iven down to such fairs to
supply the demand there. The farmer could then have his choice of
such stock and at a price that while it would leave a fair profit to the
drovers, Avould be less than he could afford to pay at a distant mai'ket.
This would occur only in districts where there were not young ani-
mals enough raised, to supply the local demand.

It may be, too, that among the benefits to be derived from estab-
lishing regular fairs throughout the State, would be the encourage-
ment they would thus indirectly give to stock husbandry, a branch of
husbandry of late sadly neglected by us. The farmer is now tempted
by the high prices ofl'ered, to sell his best calves at an early age to the
butcher. And in fact their slaughtered carcases are brought by the
cars and by steamboats from New Hampshire, Vermont and Maine,
to supply the Boston markeL Thus the number of neat animals

raised to maturity, has not kept up with tlie wants of the community,
and as a consequence the |)rice of beef animals, milch cows and work-
ing cattle, has experienced a most un])recedeiited increase. If the
farmer could find ])Uicha8ers for two-year-old heifers and steers, as
readily as for calves and at corresponding prices, what should hinder
his making the attempt to rear them? It will be said perhaps that
he has not the fodder to^keep them over winter in any lujmbers, with-
out encroaching on the feed of his other stock. JS'ow here is just
where he should rouse himself to more enterprise to meet this want,
especially by the cultivation of root crops. It is remarkable what
immense burdens of carrots, ruta-bagas, mangel wurzels and sugar
beets, can be raised on small plots of well manured land, and with no
more skill and labor than are required in the cultivation of a corn
crop. The turnip-culture is often said to be the foundation of mod-
ern British husbandry. Why ? Because it enables the farmers of
Great Britain to raise and keep a much larger number of animals —
both neat stock and sheep — than they would otherwise possibly be
enabled to do, and by this means to increase the manure heaps by
which {o augment the capacity of the soil for future crops. We have
talked a great d.\al about the benefits of the root culture — it forms
one of the standing topics of cattle show addresses — but it has made
but slow progress among us. If we would once set about it in good
earnest and begin to rear young stock, we should know by actual
experience the inestimable value of roots for winter feeding, and
should help introduce into more general practice their culture. And
the prospect of a home demand for young stock — such as would
spring up from the establishing of market-days — would certainly tend
to this desired result.

Again, there is a growing demand and at high prices, for good
milch cows, especially for those giving rich milk, well adapted for the
table and for butter. Let a regular market-day be established in their
neighborhood, and an additional inducement would be offered to
farmers to raise their most promising heifer calves, by the certainty
of finding purchasers of their cows, just as soon as they were ready
for sale ; and the competition of a full attendance of purchasers would
most likely create brisker sales and higher prices than would other-
wise be had for them. The great question which is the best breed of
cows for dairy purposes — if indeed there be one — would after a time
be in a fair way to be settled. If the Jersey or the Ayrshire breed be
the best adapted to our pastures and our climate, and the most to be
depended upon for the dairy, it would assuredly be found out; for at
a Fair where dealers and fai-mers thus meet together, they would com-
pare their experiences and make up a judgment accordingly. Or if
a new breed of milch cows — pure natives perchance — should be origi-
nated among us, that should meet all our requirements, that would
then be the one to receive the most attention to propagate it in its
purity. Why ? Because quick sales, large prices and a certain
market at our veiy doors, would operate as a stimulus to such stock
raising, and it would be seen that it would pay, when we returned
from the market with the pi'oceeds.
8-a

10

So too we should raise our pigs, instead of being dependent, as for
years we have been, on New York and Ohio for our supply, notwith-
standing the disease which has proved of late so fatal to those brought
from these States. The loss from this source to the farmers and
drovers of Massachusetts has been immense. Can any one say, in
view of such a loss, that its recurrence should not be guarded against
by increasing the number of breeding sows, and making a home mar-
ket for their litters by the establishing of regular markets for their
sale ? They can readily be taken to market in wagons fitted for the
purpose, or they could be driven in droves, if grown to be shoats, and
the supply, it is safe to predict, would not for a long time, if ever,
exceed the demand. And here too, as in the case with milch cows,
there would be greater inducements, by the establishing of such
markets, to bestow more attention to breeding than has as yet been
practiced among us.

Let us come now to farm products other than live stock, — how
would they be aftected by the establishing of these fairs ? Some pro-
ducts, such as hay for example, would hardly be offered for sale,
unless it should be pressed in bundles so as to be made available for
transportation. Wherever grains were grown in any considerable
quantities, they would rarely fail of finding purchasers at these fairs,
for it is well known that the supply of these have not for a long time
been at all adequate to the wants of the State. And it is equally
well known that the Indian corn and the rye raised in New England,
is far superior in quality to that imported from the Middle and South-
ern States — for domestic consumption, indeed, no one having tasted
of the former would use the latter, unless from sheer necessity. But-
ter, cheese and eggs, articles that are now frequently sold at the door
to travelling agents, or at country stores, and without any competition
to enhance their price, would be brought to these fairs in sufficient
quantities to attract purchasers for the larger markets, and sales
would be made at their full value and for ready cash payment.

In regard to apples, large quantities of which are some yeai's
raised in the State, the advantage of regular market days or fairs for
their sale, would be very great. As they are a bulky article, their
transportation to market is no trifling affair. Six or eight barrels are
usually taken at a load in a one-horse wagon, requiring on an average
thirty trips to sell a crop of two hundred barrels, besides the time
consumed in finding purchasers. Now if the farmer were sure that
on a particular day in the fall, dealers would attend the fair in his
neighborhood, and make large purchases of this fruit for shipping or
for re-sale at the larger markets, he could take with him samples of
his different varieties, and thus dispose of his entire crop, to be deliv-
ered at the cars or in the city, as might be agreed upon. By this
comparatively small outlay of time and money, his net profit would
be vastly greater than it now is. In the same manner, onions and
other vegetable crops might be disposed of with advantage, both to
the seller and the buyer.

And here we are reminded of an incidental advantage to be derived
from these fairs, and one by no means to be overlooked in foi'ming a

11

correct estimate of them. Some crops, such as the apple, for exam-
ple, are extremely variable, being one year abundant in some parts
and scarce in others ; and anoliier year, vice versa. Some crops
too, such as the onion, are raised in large quantities, in some sections
of the State, and not at all in other sections. Now an abundant sup-
ply of any commodity gluts the market, and often reduces prices to
a ruinous extent. Hence, where there is an excess of these crops
beyond the demand for home consumption, it could readily be disposed
of to purchasers from a distance, who would be drawn to the local
fairs by the knowledge of this very contingency.

Besides the opportunity thus aflfbrded for tratlic at these fairs, they
would be attended with peculiar convenience to the farmer in hiring
laborers. He is now put to great trouble and uncertainty in obtain-
ing such as are needed — doubtless owing in part to the fact that na-
tive labor has been of late largely superseded by foreign. But even
this labor cannot always be commanded at the time it is most wanted
by him. He cannot spend much time in the busy season in riding
round for work-people, and unless they happen to offer themselves at
his door, he must suffer for want of them. Now at the opening of
the spring work, at haying and at harvesting, if the farmer could be
sure of meeting at the fair in his neighborhood, a large number
of men in want of work, of whom he could take his pick, it would
assuredly be no small convenience both to himself and to the persons
hired. From this arrangement, a scale of prices, which would be
highly desirable, would soon be fixed for the different kinds of labor-
ers, and as a consequence there would be more uniformity of wages
paid by our fixrmers. And if it were deemed expedient, a registry
might be opened for the names of the persons thus seeking employ-
ment, and of the place where they last worked.

But it would be difficult to specify in detail, all the benefits, which
might be expected to be derived from establishing regular fairs or
market-days throughout the State. We have endeavored to enume-
rate but a few of them — sufficient, however, to give some definite,
and it is to be hoped, favorable views in regard to them. Doubtless
here, as in other new enterprises, many of the advantages would far
exceed the most sanguine expectations, whilst others would in time
spring up that were entii'ely unlocked foi\ Take for illustration, our
railroads — many of us can remember with what distrust they were
regarded by a large part of the community, when they were first
proposed for consideration. The stage-coach companies thought that
they should be ruined — and the farmers reasoned very naturally that
the general introduction of the iron horse, as a means of transporta-
tion, would diminish if not destroy the demand for hay and other
provender. But how has it turned out ? The stage companies have
become the proprietors of the omnibuses running from the various
stopping-places of the rail cars. And for the use of those omnibuses,
and for drays, coaches and private vehicles, and more recently for
horse railroads, the number of horses in the State, and their price
too, has probably doubled or trebled since the first rail was laid here,
and the consumption of hay and oats has increased in a corresponding

12

ratio. Other interesting particulars will leadily suggest themselves,
illustrative of the incidental benefits of railroads, equally unforeseen
by their projectors and the community at large.

Let us now consider some of the objections that would be likely to
be urged against the establishing of these fairs. It may be said per-
haps that they propose too great an innovation on the present modes
of disposing of agricultural products, to meet with much favor from
the farming community. We all know with what reluctance farmers
quit long establisiied habits and practices, and how slow they are to
make any change in them. Nor can it be denied that a most radical
change is here proposed to them, and one which needs to have a fair
start given to it, in order to overcome the standing objections to every
new enterprise. To take again for illustration the case of railroads,
when they Avere first talked of, the conservative men on all sides
cried out against this change from the long tried and well approved
modes of travel on the public highvva3^ Those in any way interested
in keeping things as they were, joined in the cry of " let well enough
alone."

" But," says J. R. Williams, in an address before the Michigan State
Agricultural Society, in l.'So'i, when speaking of the old maxim that
it is best to "let well enough alone," "it depends upon what 'well
enough' means. As a maxim for a farmer it is pernicious. I hold
in my hand two peaches. They grew upon trees which sprung from
different pits of the same original tree. This large, blushing, richly-
tinted, melting, thin-skinned and smuU-stoned peach, is cultivated
fruit. The small, woolly, tough-skinned and large-stoned peach, is
the natural fruit, the 'let well enough alone' kind. I hold in my
hand two apples, plucked from the same tree, one from a grafted, and
one from a natural branch. One is the cultivated fruit, the other is
the ' let well enough alone' kind. You perceive the distinction is
as marked in the apple as in the peach. These are a type and fit
illustration of progress and perfection in every branch of agri-
culture."

Notwithstanding the doubts of some, and the gloomy forebodings
of others, the railroads were started and they who at first were most
opposed to them, have been as ready as any to avail themselves of their
benefits. So it would most probably be with these fairs — once start-
ed under favorable circumstances, they would give the best proof, by
actual experiment, of their superiority over the present modes of sell-
ing and buying agricultural products. Jt would doubtless take time
to turn the current of trade into the nevv channels — but it would
come — and the wonder would then be that the work had not been
undertaken long ago.

It may be objected to these fairs, too, that they are not adapted to
the habits of our people — that they partake too much of the character
of holidays to be favorably received by them. But, it may be asked,
how can this be determined without making the trial? In fact, it is
in our power to give to them just such a character as we please. And
should they become the means of inducing our farmers to spend a few
hours occasionally in innocent and rational recreation, it may well be
questioned whether the effect on their minds or morals would be at

13

all injurious. It is the bow that is always bent that loses its elasticity,
so the mind that is constantly intent on business and is never unstrung
in social intercourse, loses its quickness of perception and its keen-
ness of judgment ; tlie heai't that is never warmed into a genial glow
of cheerfulness and pleasure, becomes cold and torpid. We should
not be sorry to see as an effect of these fairs, more of the " good
humor and all social affections and generous sentiments among the
people," which the Constitution specially enjoins upon legislators and
magistrates in all future periods of this Commonwealth to counte-
nance and inculcate.

Other objections might be raised to an enterprise so novel and
untried as this would be among us. It is not necessary, however, to
go into the further consideration of them for the reason that we can-
not conceive of any sufficiently serious to require it. It should be
borne in mind that the practical question is, not whether there are
any evils to which these fairs might be liable, but whether they would
be overbalanced by the positive benefits resulting from them. And
this question could best — and perhaps only, be settled by an actual
experiment of establishing them. And this brings us to the consid-
eration of the best practical method of commencing and continuing
these fairs throughout the State, so as to create new markets for the
farmer.

And first it would be highly desirable, if not essential, that the
farmers of the Commonwealth should be more fully informed as to
the working of these fairs and the advantages to be expected from
them, in order to their co-operating with earnestness and energy in
their establishment. If it be true — and of this it is too late to doubt —
that " where there is a will there is a way," the first great object in
starting this enterprise is to secure the hearty good-will — the intelli-
gent and the united will of the farming community in its favor.
This, we are persuaded, is vital to its success. With this view, meet-
ings might be held in the winter months in the different counties, the
question fully discussed and a vote taken upon it. A series of such
meetings might be held in different parts of the same county, until
the subject was brought before its whole agricultural population and
their minds were known, with some degree of certainty, upon it.
And in addition to this, circulars might be issued by the State Soci-
ety, to be distributed through the County Societies, setting forth the
advantages of these fairs, and requesting the opinions of those to
whom they were addressed, as to the practicability of establishing
such fairs in their several neighborhoods, and the times and places at
which they could best be held, also desiring each person to say what
part, if any, he would take in giving them his support by his attend-"
ance and otherwise. When all this had been done, we should be in a
position to judge whether it were advisable to proceed in establishing
the fairs, or not. If the whole popular current was decidedly against
it, or such a degree of apathy and indifference was manifested in
respect to it as to make its success highly doubtful, then we should
say that it was best to wait for *' the good time coming," rather than
to attempt to force its advent. But if the public sentiment, as thus

14

ascertained, were favorable to the undertaking, especially if a certain
enthusiasm were excited in the subject, start it then, bj all means,
and the sooner the better. There need be but little formality about
it. Let individuals in the several neighborhoods near the fair, asso-
ciate themselves together by agreeing to attend, either to buy or sell,
one taking this and another that article, and all determining to lend
his aid and encouragement to it. One enthusiastic person in a neigh-
borhood— an energetic, persistent man, not easily deterred by trifles,
one that sees few or no obstacles in the. way when a good enterprise
is stai'ted ; or, seeing them, summons fresh pluck to surmount them,
will certainly succeed in enlisting the hearty good-will and co-
operation of nearly all with whom he comes in contact. With book
and pencil in hand let him call on his neighbors and talk over the
matter freely with them, and then note down what this one and that
will do to help on the fair, — specifying the articles they would sev-
erally agree to carry to it. The power of associated action and the
force of example, would in this way operate quietly but effectually.
A few such men — young men, if they can be enlisted — will act like
leaven to leaven the whole mass.

There need be no regulations made and published as to the buying
and selling, not even that the sales shall be for cash payments, which
would certainly be the most desirable mode of trade. The fair would
be the farmers' exchange — just as the merchants have their exchange
in the city — where they meet to transact business, and self-interest
and mutual convenience make the bargains. Neither are thert? need-
ed any public yards or buildings for the display of animals or other
products of the farm ; but they would be offered for sale at particular
points, which would soon become well known to the public. On the
23d of June last, Sanford Howard, of the Boston Cultivator, attended
a cattle fair at Kilmaurs, in Scotland. In a letter published just after-
wards in that paper, he says, " there were there about four hundred
head of cattle, mostly Ayrshire cows and heifers, the greater part of
which changed hands, although the market was dull. They were
collected in the principal street of the village, the lots of the different
owners being kept separated by men and dogs. The purchasers
looked over the animals, and having decided on the ones they Avanted,
and asked the price, made offers, at the same time extending their
hands. If the offers were accepted, the parties shook hands and that
consummated the transaction." The whole is a very simple affair —
as simple as Columbus making the egg stand on its end — if we would
but take hold in earnest and determine to have it succeed. Only
make a beginning by collecting together on a fixed day and at a fixed
■place, agricultural products and men in sufficient numbers, and the
market is established. The success of one such day would be almost
sure to command success on the next, and after a few such days the
market-day would become a permanent and popular institution, and
would be noted in the almanac, as the different terms of the Courts
are noted.

Another important question, and one requiring much care and de-
liberation in deciding it, is, how often and where shall these fairs be

15

held ? It is clear that this must be left with some body of men, in
whom the public have confidence. The different Agricultural Socie-
ties that receive the bounty of the Commonwealth, and are required
to make an annual return to it of their transactions, might be request-
ed to take upon themselves this duty. Composed as these societies
very generally are of farmers, they have the confidence of the
farmers, and they can best fix the times and places of the fairs,
with the proper discretion. By their trustees, or by committees
chosen for the purpose, they might exercise the necessary power with
regard to the whole matter, with but little danger of its being abused.
They should, in the first place, map out the county, and then select
such points as would best accommodate the population, having refer-
ence to railroad and other facilities. The railroad companies could
well afford to encourage the fairs, by charging but half-price to those
who pass over their roads to the market. To make this matter more
specific, let us take for example the County of Essex — that being the
county with which the writer is most familiar — and let four towns be
fixed upon as near as may be to its four corners, as the places where
monthly fairs or market-days shall be held thi'oughout the yeai*. Such
four places might be Danvers, (at the Plains,) Ipswich, Newburyport,
and North Andover, (at Sutton's Mills.) Three of these towns have at
least two railroads running directly to or through them ; and one,
Ipswich, has the Eastern Railroad passing through its center. Hav-
ing settled upon these towns and the points in them, at which the
market could best be held, on the first Wednesday in January let
a market be held at Danvers, due notice having been given to that
effect. On the second Wednesday in January let a market come off
at Ipswich ; the third Wednesday at Newburyport, and the fourth
Wednesday at North Andover, and so go through each month in the
year, observing the same order as to the days. In this way, it would
soon be known that the first Wednesday of every month was market-
day at Danvers, and so of the other towns, they would always have
the same Wednesday in the month for their market-day. At first
these markets might not be so fully attended, but still they should be
observed, rain or shine, brisk times or dull. As the fairs are started,
in respect of place and day, so they should be continued, for the
reason that a change would be difficult ; but more especially that
the habit of attending a particular market at a regularly recurring
time, would thus become fixed in the life of the farmei\ And in order
to accommodate the whole county by a larger display of stock, let
some central town, such as Topsfield or Georgetown, having good
railroad facilities — be the place for holding a market day for neat
stock and horses in the spring and fall, the first Friday in May and
October being suitable days for that purpose, and not interfering with
the other markets.

And in order to encourage this whole enterprise in its infancy, it
might be advisable for the Agricultural Societies or public spirited
individuals to offer premiums for certain farm proditcts, that cannot
so Avell be presented at the regular cattle shows, and do not receive
any encouragement from them. For example, the best poultry in all

16

its varieties, dressed for the market, mutton, pork, veal and other
meats, might thus be noticed. The best lot of honey and eggs, of
butter and cheese, of cranberries, quinces and apples, and of fruits and
vegetables generally, might also receive the fostering aid of the soci-
eties. The advantage of this mode of bestowing premiums is, that it
would be the best lot of a given product, as prepared for market
and exposed to sale, that would receive them, and not the best
specimens, culled and fitted for parade, as is too often the case at
our fairs.

r NO. 4. "1
LNEW SEKIES.J

PRIZE ESSAY

PREPARATION AND APPLICATION

MANURES.

BY

JOSEPH REYNOLDS, M.D.,

OF CONCORD, MASS.

BOSTON:

1858.

J. H. EASTBURN'S PRESS.

ESSAY.

In treating of the preparation and application of Manures, several
other points naturally, and almost necessai-ily suggest themselves. In
discussing their preparation, one can hardly avoid inquiring into their
com])osition, and the sources from which their component elements
are dei'ived, and before one is prepared to apply them, he must ascer-
tain the effects which they produce, for it is by a careful observation
of these effects, that he is to be guided, rather than by rules derived
from theory.

The Preparation of Manures.

In considering the best mode of preparing any substa7ice, we must
obviously ascertain, at the outset, of what it consists. Our first
inquiry then must be, what elements are essential to constitute any
substance a manure.

To this inquiry I reply,

1st. Manures
consist of carbonaceous matter already combined with oxygen, or in a
condition to be combined with it, thus forming carbonic acid. Carbo-
naceous matter is formed by the decay or decomposition of the woody
fibre of vegetables, of starch, gum, sugar, and oils, into the composition
of all which, carbon largely enters. Carbon constitutes the frame-
work, or chief bulk of all vegetables, and is left, more or less free
from all other elements, in decayed vegetable substances. It consti-
tutes the bulk of all the solid excrementitious matter, which passes
through animals. Hence all ordinary manures, whether consisting of
animal excrement, or of vegetable matter, in the form of muck, decay-
ed grasses, straw, leaves, fruit, wood or other vegetable growths, are
composed very largely of carbon.

2d. Salts.

Manures contain the salts of lime, potash, soda, magnesia, silex,
ammonia, sulphur and iron, all of which, except ammonia, are found
in vegetables, and are derived from the soil. They are all found, also,
in the secretions of animals, especially in their liquid secretions, being
derived by them chiefly from the vegetables on which they feed.
Ammonia is abundant in animal secretions, being formed in them by
the chemical union of nitrogen and hydrogen. This is an important
element in many manures, as it furnishes for the use of plants, nitrogen
and hydrogen, and also operates as a stimulant to their secreting and
assimilating vessels.

What are called animal manures, which consist of decaying animal
substances, as flesh, hair, feathers, skins, &;c., yield a large quantity

of ammonia, it being formed in the process of putrefaction, by the
chemical union of their nitrogen with the hydrogen of water.

3d. Gases.

Manures contain elements in the form of gases, as oxygen, hydro-
gen, nitrogen and their various compounds with other substances, as
sulphuretted hydrogen, consisting of sulphur and hydrogen ; phos-
phuretted hydrogen, composed of phosphorus and hydrogen ; and
carbonic acid, compounded of carbon and oxygen. Ammonia usually
exists in manures in a gaseous form, except when combined with sul-
phuric or other acids.

4th. Acids.

Acids, either in a free state or combined with alkaline bases and
metals, are also found in manures; as sulphuric, muriatic, nitric,
phosphoric, carbonic acid, &c. These acids, with the exception of the
carbonic, are seldom found in a free state, but generally in a state of
combination ; as sulphate of lime, nitrate of potash, phosphate of
ammonia, &c.

5 th. Water.

The fifth important element contained in manures, is water. This
contains in solution, the earths, acids and gases. It is the universal
solvent employed by nature, and is always present, when vegetable
or animal growth is going on, furnishing to the vessels of the different
organs, in that state of minute division, which can be obtained only by
solution, the elements which they require to construct their various
tissues, and not only so, but freely yielding up the oxygen and hydro-
gen of which itself consists, when one or both are required. These
elements, viz. : carbon, alkaline salts, silex, sulphur, iron, gases, acids
and water, are the elements usually found in manures. They are
rarely all found in any one manure, and are found in diffeient pro-
portions in different manures. Hence thedifferent effects of different
manures. Manure consisting chiefly of carbonaceous matters, when
applied to soils containing a large percentage of humus or carbon, will
produce but little effect upon the growing crop. Such a soil requires
manures containing a large quantity of alkalies or nitrogenous matter.
A manure consisting largely of carbon, is specially adapted to sandy
loams, from which the carbon has been exhausted.

How many of the elements above named are necessary to constitute
a manure'?

In order to answer this question understandingly, it is necessary
first to determine the condition of the soil to which it is to be
applied, for that may be considered a manure, which supplies any
want of the soil ; and secondly, the elements specially wanted by
the crop to be cultivated upon it. All the constituents above named
are necessary to furnish a perfect manure ; that is, a manure that
shall be suited to all kinds of crops, in all kinds of soils. But were
all manures so constituted, it is probable that a portion of the elements
would be wasted in all cases ; or, in other words, that they would not

all be wanted, in any one case. Several of these elements are vola-
tile in their cliaracter, and of eourse, will not remain permanently in
the soil. If they are not wanted for the immediate crop, there will
be a waste of material. Could we determine, in all cases, the wants
of the soil, and the wants of the cro[), and then apply only those
elements of manure that will meet these wants, it is obvious that a
great amount of material would be saved. But the difficulties in the
way of determining these wants, and of so combining and adapting
the needed manurial elements, are so great, that they can never be
wholly ovei'come, and we must be content to submit to the loss result-
ing from our ignorance and inability. But science and observation
may do something towards meeting these difficulties. Here is a fine
opportunity for the exercise of the discrimination and judgment of the
cultivator.

Having now spoken of the elements contained in manures, we are
prepared to speak of the sources from which they are derived, and of
their preparation. Carbonaceous matter, as we have seen, results
from the natural decay or chemical decomposition of vegetables. Accu-
mulated masses of vegetables, as leaves, wood, grasses, straw, the
stalks and stems of all plants, fruits, roots, grains, &c., under favora-
ble conditions, ra[)idly undergo, first, the fermentative, and secondly
the putrefactive process. By favorable conditions, is meant the
proper degree of temperature, and the proper amount of moisture.
When there is too much or too little heat, or too much or too little
moisture, the process of fermentation will not go on.

When masses of vegetable matter are collected under favorable
circumstances, their fibres soften and swell, and become permeable to
air and water. Their salts, starch, sugar and gluten and extractive
matter are dissolved ; their carbon combines with oxygen, and car-
bonic acid is rapidly formed, and permeates the whole mass. This
acid combines with the alkalies that may be present, and thus carbon-
ates of lime, potash, soda and ammonia are formed. After a time,
certain elements in the mass take on the putrefactive process. This
process is due chiefly to the presence of gluten and nitrogenous ele-
ments, such as those derived from animal sources. Animal substances
rapidly pass into the putrefactive process, and the larger the propor-
tion of such substances combined with the vegetable masses, the more
rapidly putrefaction occurs.

Hence the addition of a portion of animal manures to vegetable
matter, greatly facilitates puti'efaction and decomposition. By this
process, nitrogen is set at liberty, and combines with the hydrogen of
the water, or with that which it finds in a solid form in the vegetable
substance, and forms ammonia, which, combining with the carbonic
acid which is being rapidly evolved at the same time, forms carbon-
ate of ammonia, the form in which ammonia is usually presented to
us. Hydrogen is also rapidly developed by the putrefactive process,
and combines with sulphur and phosphorus when present, forming
sulphuretted and phosphuretted hydrogen, the gases which so ofiend
our sense of smell in manures. These gases are liigldy volatile, and
when the surfaces of the putrefying mass are freely exposed to the
atmosphere, are rapidly dissipated. Some substances have the power

of absorbing a large amount of these gases, and of retaining them
with considerable tenacity. Carbon itself, when nearly pure and dry,
has a strong affinity for them. Hence the addition of dry pulverized
charcoal or of peat, will absorb them in large quantities. From this
property is derived the power of these substances, as deodorizers.
The sulphates of lime, iron and zinc have a similar power. These
sulphates have also the power of decomposing carbonate of ammonia,
displacing the carbonic acid, and forming sulphate of ammonia, which
is not volatile. Sulphuric acid, nitric acid, and chloric acid will de-
compose carbonate of ammonia, forming sulphate, nitrate, or chloride
of ammonia, which salts are not volatile. Hence the value of these
acids to combine with alkalies, and especially with ammonia, forming
with them soluble salts.

The result, then, of decomposition as we usually find it, in the form
of vegetable compost, is carbonaceous matter, combined with certain
salts.

Vegetable substances are also decomposed in the digestive organs
of animals, by a process, in many respects, similar to that which we
have already described. The vegetable fibre is comminuted by the
teeth, and softened and permeated by the fluids contained in the
organs of the animal. A large portion of the starch, gum, sugar,
gluten and salts, are dissolved out, and taken up by the lacteal vessels
of the animal, to serve the purposes of nutrition. The remainder,
mixed as we have said, with the juices of the animal, containing in
solution various substances, is ejected. This process is accomplished
much more rapidly than the ordinary process of vegetable decay, and
the substance resulting is mixed with a large amount of animal mat-
ter, which fits it for rapid putrefaction. The animal matter acts the
part of a leaven, which sets up the putrefactive process, whenever the
necessary conditions are present. There is this difference between
the reduction of vegetables by the ordinary process of composting,
and by the process of animal digestion, viz. : that in the latter pro-
cess, vegetables are made to afford nutriment to animals, while Jinder-
going reduction, and yet in consequence of the condition to which
they are brought, and of the additions which they receive, they are
more valuable as manures, than when, without serving the purposes
of nutrition, they are reduced by the former process. These two
processes, vegetable composting, and the feeding of animals with vege-
tables, are the sources from which carbonaceous manures are chiefly
obtained. But the slow decomposition of vegetables is always going
on in nature, and thus one generation of plants is made to afford
nutriment to those that come after it. The carbonaceous matter
resulting from the decay of vegetables, is not all taken up, as it is
formed. Immense masses of it have accumulated in meadows,
swamps and basins, by the action of obvious causes.

These accumulations of vegetable debris, mingled with more or less
of insoluble earths, constitute muck or peat, and are capable of fur-
nishing an almost unlimited amount of carbonaceous matter, in a con-
dition to be made rapi'lly subservient to the purposes of cultivation.

This material differs considerably in condition, and in composition.
In some deposits, it is much more purely carbonaceous matter, than

in others. In some, the decomposition is more complete than in
others. But the most important difference in different parcels of
muck is, that one contains acids, or minerals combined with acids, in
very sensible pi-oportions, while another is nearly or quite free from
such compounds. When acids abound in muck, it is unfit to be used
in a simple state, but needs to be corrected by alkalies ; and of these,
lime seems to be the best adapted to remedy the evil. Quicklime mixed
with peat, has the effect of ra|)idly rendering it pulverulent and light.
Its influence seems to be extended through the whole mass, like that
of yeast through the whole mass of dough, while at the same time, it
neutralizes the acids, and decomposes the salts of iron or other min-
erals, forming salts of lime, which themselves are essential to the
growth of many crops.

When muck is free, or nearly free from acids, it may be used by
itself, with great profit, on light sandy soils, or on any soils, in which
the humus is exhausted, or it may be composted with stable manure,
ashes, guano, or animal matters, with peculiar advantage, since it
has, as we have already observed, the power of absorbing and con-
densing the gases arising from the putrefaction of these substances,
and thus will be formed a manure adapted to nearly all the uses of
the garden and the field. No other substance seems so well adapted
to composting with night-soil or urine as muck, since it deodorizes
these substances, and retains all their valuable elements, and renders
them at once manageable, and easy of application, and affords the
dilution which concentrated manures require for their safe application.
Composted with putrefying fish, it forms an exceedingly valuable
manure. The best mode of preparing muck for use, is to throw it
from its bed in the autumn, and let it be exposed to the action of the
frosts of the succeeding Avinter. If it is designed to be composted
with lime or ashes, it may be used the following season. But if it is
to be composted with stable manure, night-soil, or animal matters,
it is better to let it remain until the following autumn, when it should
be deposited in the barn-yard or cellar, and be mixed with the drop-
pings of the animals, from time to time. It should be provided in
sufficient quantity to be used freely as a deodorizer about the premises,
whenever or wherever it may be wanted. It will thus become
charged with gases and salts, and be converted into a highly valuable
manure, especially serviceable in garden culture.

The chief sources of carbonaceous matter are then found in vegeta-
ble composts, animal excrements, and muck, and combined with them,
as we have seen, are various salts and gases. But these elements,
which are equally essential to vegetable growth, either as component
elements, or as stimulants, may be found in more concentrated forms,
in much smaller bulk, and capable of more easy and direct applica-
tion to plants. These fertilizing elements, variously combined and
condensed into a small bulk, constitute what are called artificial ma-
nures. All plants take from the soil more or less mineral matters.
Some require them in large quantities. Such plants are said to be
exhausting to the soil on which they grow. The small grains, which
appropriate in their culms and seeds, a large amount of silex, lime
and potash, are instances of this class. Other plants take less from

8

the soil, and feed copiously upon the elements found in the atmos-
phere. The turnip and cabbage, which are furnished with a large
array of leaves for this purpose, are an instance of the latter. The
elements to which we now refer, are all soluble, and are dissolved and
washed out of the soil by the rain, and from land that is well worked
and in fine tilth they are rapidly washed out, and, unless they are
supplied by artificial means, the cultivated soil becomes rapidly de-
prived of them. These elements may be directly and easily supplied
to the soil. The nitrogenous manures, as guano, night-soil, pou-
drette, urine, hair, fish manure, and animal substances generally, con-
tain in solution, or in combination with acids, a large quantity of
mineral matter, chiefly lime, potash, and ammonia, and it is to these
that they owe whatever permanent value they possess, their other
elements being so soluble and volatile, that the effects of this class of
manures are immediate and temporary.

Another kind of nitrogenous manures to which but little attention
has been paid in this country, may be found worthy of attention.
I refer to nitre beds, which are formed of soil mixed with potash,
lime and soda, and are protected from the rain by roofs open on all
sides, to expose them to the free circulation of the air. The mixture
is frequently stirred to expose new surfaces to the air. The alkaline
substances thus treated, combine with the nitrogen of the air, and thus
in time, nitrates of lime, potash and soda, are formed, and the whole
mass becomes strongly impregnated with them. The principal use
that has been hitherto made of the substances thus treated, has been
to leach them, by which the nitrates of potash and soda are dissolved
out, and reduced to a solid state, by evaporation, for the manufacture
of gunpowder, and other purposes in the arts. There can be no
doubt, that large quantities of manure might be thus prepared, which
would be highly valuable. Experience only can determine whether
it can be done economically. But the principal means by which
mineral matters are restored to the soil, is the direct application of
lime, gypsum, bones, ashes, salt, sea-weed, and nitrates of lime and
soda, and muriates of lime, soda and ammonia. The effects of such
substances upon many soils are very apparent, especially when their
application is followed by crops, into whose composition such sub-
stances largely enter, as Avheat, oats, potatoes, &c.

Having spoken somewhat at length of the composition of most of
the substances in common use as manures, I will speak briefly of their
preparation. It has already been seen, that most of the natural
manures contain elements that are soluble and volatile. It follows,
of course, that when such substances are exposed to the rain and
snow, the soluble elements will be dissolved and washed out, and that,
if they are exposed to the free action of the atmosphere, their volatile
elements will be dissipated, as fast as they are developed, and this
will be, at least with respect to several of them, nearly in proportion
to the elevation of the temperature. The free action of the air will
not only dissipate their gases, but will carry off the moisture which is
necessary to support chemical action. Hence it follows that in col-
lecting and preparing manures for the soil, whether they consist of
unmixed stable manures, or these composted with soil, muck or other

ven;etable or animal substances, they should be protected from the
action of the weather. There are iciw who can afford to submit to
tlie lo-;s to which they woukl otherwise be exposed. Tiie barn cellar
is perhaps the most convenient arrangement for the protection of
manures, and this is coming rapidly into use throughout tins State.
The cellar should be easy of access, — should be made with a bottom
impervious to water, protected frjm currents of air, and if possible
secured from frost, so tliat tlie fermentative and jjutrefactive processes
may be going on through the winter. Material should be provided
and placed in or near the cellar, and be spi'ead frequently over the
fresh droppings of the animals, that it may absorb the liciuid portions,
and ab?orb the gases as fast as they are formed. The materials pro-
vided should be as dry as possible, that they may retain the liquid
excrement, and besides, in a dry state loam and muck are more ea>ily
pulverized, and mix more thoroughly with the droppings. If the
mass, thus gradually formed in the cellar, is suffered to freeze, very
little decomposition or chemical action take place during the winter.
But if the frost is kept out, the laboratory will be at work more or
less actively, through the entire winter, and the manure will be fit to
be used in the early spring. It will become softened and rendered
fine, by its own internal action, and will not require to be ovei'hauled,
for the sake of breaking and pulverizing it. Wliereas, if it is kept
frozen, or near the freezing point, the animal excrement Avill be in
the condition of green manure, and will not so readily combine with
the soil, or act so immediately upon the growing crops.

The farmer who has no cellar, should cover his manure with a roof,
at least, to protect it from the rain and sun. It woidd be well for the
farmer who does not cover his manure, to remove it during the win-
ter, into his field, and deposit it in as large masses as possible, that it
may present the smallest surface to the weather, and cover it neatly
with soil, that may protect it from the rain, and absorb the gases as
fast as they are formed, which will be very slowly during the cold
weather. A quantity of dried muck may be provided in the autumn,
near where it is intended to deposit the manure from the barn, and
be mixed with it as it is deposited, and used to cover the heap.
Heaps of compost thus ])rei)ared, require to be overhauled in the
early s])ring, and the ingredients to be well mixed. It is an excellent
practice to mix with them, as they are being ovei'hauled, gypsum, or
a solution of sulphate of iron, or diluted sulphuric acid, as these will
combine with, and retain the ammonia, as it is formed in the ferment-
ing mass. Ashes or quicklime should never be directly combined
with green manure, or urine, or any substan<?e, as guano, for exam-
ple, which contains a large amount of carbonate of ammonia, as they
will combine with the carbonic acid, and set free the ammonia in a
gaseous form, which, unless some other substance having a strong
atlhiity for it, is present, to combine with it, will of course be lost.
AVhen it is desirable to apply lime or ashes to the same soil with
stable manure, or compost consicr^ting partly of stable manure, the best
method probably is, to plough in the matnjre, and spread the lime or
ashes bi'oadcast over the surface, or apply it in the hill with the seed,
when hoed crops are to be cultivated. The principle, which should

4—2

10

ever be kept in view, in the preparation and application of manures,
is, tliat they should be applied to the soil in their integrity, that is,
containing all the elements belonging to their constitution. If a por-
tion of these elements are difiused into the atmosphere instead of the
soil, it is obvious that a portion has been lost, and that portion is
usually the most active and the most stimulating. Some persons pre-
fer to introduce stable manures into the soil, in a crude or green state.
In this condition it is in a state of integrity, and all its elements, as
they are developed, are absorbed by the soil, and we are not sur-
prised that those who have never experienced the advantages of com-
posting in a cellar, should prefer this mode of application.

We have already referred to the combination of muck with night-
soil. Probably there is no better mode of preparing this highly valua-
ble substance for common use, as a manui'e, than by mixing it with
a sufficient quantity of muck in a dry state, to absorb its moisture,
and destroy its odor. If a quantity of plaster, or a little diluted sul-
phuric acid be added to this composition, we shall have one of the
best manures that can be composed, for most crops, and especially for
garden and fruit crops.

Liquid Manures.

The saving and use of liquid manures is deserving of more atten-
tion than it has yet received in this country. It is easy so to arrange
the stalls of cattle, as to receive their urine into troughs under the
floor, and to convey it into a cistern in the cellar, or outside of the
barn. This may be pumped into a water-cart, to which a sprinkler is
attached, similar to those used in watering the streets. If it is
pumped in through a strainer, the sprinkler does not become clogged,
and it may be rapidly conveyed to the field, and disti'ibuted as a top-
dressing, upon grass or grain, Avith immediate effect. When the soil
is not deficient in carbonaceous elements, there can probably be no
better top-dressing applied. It is not as permanent in its effects as
the solid excrement, but more immediate, and it may be applied twice
a year upon grass, with less expense of labor than one dressing of
solid manure. The cost of the necessary apparatus for saving and
distributing it, is small. As a top-dressing for a field where turnips
are to be grown, it is very excellent. As a top-dressing in the spring,
or during the summer, for pasture lands, it is perhaps superior to any
dressing that can be applied. If the undiluted urine is thought too
strong, it may be easily diluted in the field, if water is at hand.
A gentleman of my acquaintance, who has been using it as a top-dress-
ing for grass, during the three years past, considers it fully equal in
value to the solid excrement of the same animals, and he states that
one man can dress as much land in this way, in one day, as two men
can, with solid manure, in two days, without taking into account the
expense and labor of collecting and mixing the material of which
compost is made. If this statement be correct, it must be more
economical than any compost, as a dressing. When applied to land
in which humus is deficient, it will not probably be found to meet all
the wants of the crops. Its effects will be much like those of guano,
on similar soils. It remains to be determined by experience whether

11

it is of equal value with superphosphate of lime, ashes, plaster, guano,
or other concentrated manures, as a top-dressing. These may all be
applied with equal facility, and with even less labor, and some of
them, as ashes and lime, are more permanent in their effects. In
applying liquid manure as a top-dressing, the labor of one man and
horse will top-dress an acre in a day, within a quarter of a mile of the
barn. This would be worth not far from three dollars. Will that
Value of any other dressing add as much to the amount of the grass
or grain crop as will the dressing in question ? This must be deter-
mined by experiment. English farmers are making extensive appli-
cation of liquid manures. They apply them largely diluted, and the
effects may be due, in some measure, to the quantity of water in
■which they are dissolved.

Liquid manures may be applied so strong as to injure tender plants.
It is well known that guano applied directly to tiie germinating seed,
operates as a caustic upon its softened substance, and entirely pre-
vents its growth. The same thing is true of ashes and lime under
certain circumstances, and it is also true of urine ; for when this is
applied in large quantity, upon young and tender grass, it will often
kill it entirely. There is no doubt that the English mode of applica-
tion is much the safest, but in order to attain the same result, the
labor is much increased ; and we are hardly prepared to believe that
the fertilizing power is increased in proportion to the dilution, as is said
to be the case with the medicinal power of homoeopathic medicines.
Within certain limits, the immediate effects of fertilizers may be, and
doubtless are increased by dilution. The particles of soluble bodies are
more finely subdivided, and are more readily taken up by the radicles
of plants, and carried into the circulation. Indeed, this is doubtless the
principal reason why liquid manures are more immediately active than
solid. Water must always be present to render manure of any kind
effective. Potash, lime, soda and all other salts, must be in a state of
solution, before they can be absoi'bed by the rootlets of plants. Hor-
ticulturists well understand that all such substances can be applied
with more immediate effect, in a state of free solution. Such sub-
stances, applied in a solid form to the soil, in a season of drought,
have little or no effect, until the falling rain dissolves them, when they
will sometimes operate with almost magical effect. Guano applied as
a top-dressing, is sometimes almost wholly inoperative, unless the ap-
plication is followed by rain. Hence, when this fertilizer is applied
in this way, it should be applied in the early spring, while the ground
is still wet, or during a rain, or upon an April snow, in order that it
may be dissolved and carried into the ground, and thus be protected
from the atmosphere, as well as be applied to the roots of the grass
and grain. There can be no doubt that lime and ashes applied in
the form of lime-water and weak lye, would be more immediately effi-
cacious, than when applied in the ordinary Avay. But it would be
attended with more labor and expense. How far this mode of apply-
ing manures will be found economical in this State, where labor
absorbs so large a part of the working capital of the cultivator, each
must judge for himself

12

Our own opinion is, that with the exception of urine from the stable
and the house, which may be easily saved, and which is apt to be lost,
in great measure at least, by any other mode of management, the ap-
plication of liquid manures will be confined chiefly to the garden.
For garden uses, soap-suds and the sewage of the house is usually
sufficient to fertilize a garden that will supply the family with vegeta-
bles. All the liquids from the house should be conducted to a reser-
voir. A garden-engine, or a hand water-cart, with a few feet of hose
and a sprinkler attached to it, will afford all the machinery needed.
The soil may be well sprinkled before the seed is sown, and at such
times subsequently, during the growing season, as may be convenient
or necessary. A little practice will soon teach the needful skill in
the application. If plaster or a solution of sulphate of iron is occa-
sionally added to the reservoir, it will both act as a deodorizer, and
add to the efficacy of the manure. Much excellent manure might be
prepared in this way, if every farmer, and every family cultivating a
garden, would take the pains necessary to provide a suitable reser-
voir. The material that now runs to waste, and is, for the most part,
a nuisance around our premises, might thus be made to add no incon-
siderable amount to the products of our soil. P'.very family in a
country town of five hundred families, might save manure to the
amount of five dollars anmially. This Avould amount to twenty-five
hundred dollars, or one dollar for each individual in town. This
would be sufficient to pay the highway tax, and build one good school-
house every year ; or it would pay the entire school tax of most towns
of that number of inhabitants. This amount of manure, properly
applied, would produce five thousand bushels of corn or vegetables of
equal value. If such would be the value of this saving to a single
town of five hundred families, the value to the whole State would be
a very large sum.

In our discussion thus far, we have had direct reference to natural
manures, but we have introduced several observations relating to the
composition and use of artificial manures. Most of these manures, as
they are I'eceived from the manufactories, need little or no piepara-
tion, but are ready to be applied directly to the soil, or to be compost-
ed with other manures, or to be dissolved fur use in a liquid form. It
is not probable that they can be economically prepared, except upon
a large scale, at establishments erected for the special purpose, and by
machinery suited to the manipulations to which the ingredients are to
be subjected. Superphosphate of lime consists of ground bones, sup-
plied with an additional dose of oxygen by means of sulphuric acid
and water. Blood manures consist of blood and aniuial fibre deodor-
ized by substances capable of absorbing their nitrogen, sul})huretted
hydrogen and moisture. Mui-iate of lime is either the waste of bleach-
eries, or more commonly, burned shells or quicklime treated with sea
water, which imparts to tlie lime its salts, and a certain amount of
muriatic acid, liut as the farmer will not be likely to undertake the
preparation of these and similar manures ui)on his own premises, it is
unnecessary to go into a description of the machinery or processes
used in their manufacture.

13

The Application of Manures,

We have already said so much upon the application of manures,
while treating of" their preparation, that the reader will very naturally
expect, and probably hope that this division of our subject will be very
briefly disponed of. But before giving any directions respecting the
application of manures, we must first institute an inquiry into the
effects produced by manures upon growing vegetables, and upon the
soil.

"Were the theory correct, that vegetables derive all their nutriment
from the atmos[»here, the application of manures to the soil would be
of no advantage to them, unless it were to stimulate them to drink up
the carbonic acid and the hydrogen, and in some cases the nitrogen of
the atmosphere, more eagerly. But experience everywhere teaches
us, that the free ap])lication of manures causes vegetables to grow
with much more vigor, and to attain a much more peifect develop-
ment. The obvious inference from this fact is, that manures furnish
to plants the elements of nutrition, which they eagei'ly devour, and
approp)'iate to their growth. We know that in animals the food is
received into the stomach, where it undergoes a sort of solution, and
is then carried forward into the intestines, where it is presented to the
mouths of myriads of little vessels, which drink up the fluid portion,
and convey it to larger vessels, by which it is conveyed to the heart.
Then by the heart, it is sent into the lungs, where it is acted upon
by the air, in the lung-cells, and is then returned to the heart, and by
means of the arteries, sent to the various tissue-forming vessels
throughout the body. The blood in the arteries is apparently a
homogeneous fluid, but is in fact, a very compound fluid, containing
in solution, various elements that previously existed in the food.
The tissue-forming or assimilating vessels are endowed with the won-
derful power of selecting from the compound mass presented to them,
such elements as they need for their respective purposes, and of re-
jecting the remainder. From the materials selected, they build their
several structures, and repair the waste that is constantly going on in
them. Thus one set of vessels forms bone, another muscular fibre,
another skin, another hair, &;c. Other vessels from the same circu-
lating fluid, eliminate the various fluids contained in the body, as
serum, milk, urine, &c. We know also that a circulating system in
many respects similar, exists in vegetables, and that fluids drunk in
by the haii'-like radicles by which their roots are covered, are convey-
ed upward, in vessels arranged for this special purpose, and that Avhen
they have passed through the trunk, they are distributed to the leaves.
The fluid passing upward from the spongioles to the leaves, is called
the ascending sap. In the leaf, the sap is acted upon by the elements
contained in the atmosphere. It then becomes the descending sap,
and is presented to the various tissue-forming vessels in all parts of
vegetables. It is now apparently homogeneous, but in truth exceed-
ingly compound, containing the various bodies in solution, which were
drunk up by the radicles, and which have been absorbed from the
atmosphere, by the leaves.

14

The vessels of vegetables have the same wonderful, and seemingly
intelligent power of selection, that exists in the vessels of animals.
The}' are thus enabled to select from the compound circulating sap,
what each set of vessels requires, to construct the tissue which each
has in charge. One set selects materials for the alburnum, another
for the bark, another for the leaf and the leaf-bud ; another forms the
fruit-bud, and ultimately builds up the fruit. One set constructs the
woody fibre, another set the starch, another the gum, another the
resin, another the bitter principle, another the sweet and nutritious
juices, another the poisonous elements. One set forms from the sap,
the coloring matter that blushes or glows in the petals of the flowers,
and the coverings of the fruit. Another selects, atom by atom, the
lime that enters into the composition of the grain of wheat ; another
set weaves the covering for this same grain, from the woody fibre.
Another set deposits the fatty elements, and arranges them in layers,
around the starch and sugar and lime, of which the kernel of corn is
built up. Thus every tissue and every product of vegetable life, arc
formed by innumerable vessels, from the descending sap.

This sap must contain, then, all the elements required to form all
the various vegetable tissues, and for their rapid and perfect develop-
ment,— the supply must be abundant — must be in due proportion, and
must be furnished at the time when it is required by the formative
vessels. An animal fed upon sugar alone or upon starch alone, will
soon starve and die. The various vessels cannot obtain the materials
necessary to carry on their work. So if a plant is furnished with
only one element of nutrition, it will cease to thrive, or at least, only
those vessels that are supplied by this element, will carry on their
proper work. For example, certain vegetables supplied with an
abundance of nitrogenous manure, will produce an exuberant growth
of woody fibre — of stalk — of leaf; and but little or no fruit or seed.

We are now prepared to understand somewhat more clearly the
effects of manures upon vegetable growth.

And first — manures furnish to the sap-vessels the various elements
which they need for the construction of the various vegetable tissues,
in such a state of minute subdivision, that they can take up atom by
atom, what each requires. All the elements existing in the soil, fur-
nish their respective quotas to the compound substance constituting
the sap. Some of these elements are capable of solution in the water
in the soil. Others are incapable of direct solution, and without the
presence of some other element capable of either acting upon them,
and thus rendering them soluble, or of combining with the solvent,
and imparting to it a higher power of solution, they would remain
inert in the soil. Thus silex is insoluble in simple water, but the
presence of lime or potash in the solvent, gives rise to a new action,
and silicate of lime or potash is formed, which is soluble, and thus
becomes an ingredient in the sap. Silex is an important constituent
in the epidermis of several of the grasses, and of the straw of grain,
and the stalk of corn. When such plants do not contain a suflicient
supply of silex in their outer coats, they break down under their own
weight, and lodge on the ground, before they have attained their full

15

growth. This we often witness in clover and herds-grass, and oats,
upon reclaimed meadows and swamps. In such cases, a top-dressing
of" sand or gravel will impart to the growing stalk, the next season,
sufficient hardness to enable it to stand erect, until its growth is com-
pleted. In such cases, even if lime and potash are not directly essen-
tial to the growth of plants, they contribute indirectly an important
service. This instance affords a beautiful illustration of the chemical
action that is constantly going on in the soil.

Different soils require different treatment. Clay soils should be
treated witii lime, ashes, and light composts ; such as contain straw
and partially decomposed vegetable matters, keep such soils light, and
furnish, by their decomposition, the humus in which they are deficient.
Black, moist soils, that have been long cultivated, are generally ex-
hausted of the lime and silex needed for grass and grain crops.
Hence compost containing sand is especially useful on such soils.
Lime may be applied freely upon the surface of such soils, in the
form of slaked lime, plaster, or superphosphate, with advantage. On
light, sandy soils, well woi'ked composts, rendered as fine as possible,
and containing a large proportion of muck or other carbonaceous sub-
stances, and animal manures, of all sorts, are peculiarly appropriate.
The influence of animal manures upon sandy soils, is well illustrated
by the growth of corn and melons upon the sands of Cape Cod, by
means of fish offal, and prepared fish manures. Such soils are hun-
gry for the elements which these manures contain. Whatever ma-
nures are applied to such soils, should be well mixed with the soil,
and well covered in.

Should manures be deeply covered in the soil, or should they be
applied near the surface, are questions about which cultivators differ.
The depth to which manures should be covered, will depend upon
three circumstances, the nature of the soil, the kind of manure, and
the kind of crop. All manures should be placed at a sufficient depth
in the soil to keep them moist, or they will be inactive. When a soil
is naturally moist and heavy, it is not necessary to bury manure as
deep, to insure its being kept in a moist state, as when it is light and
dry. Manures containing a large proportion of volatile elements,
should be buried deeply. These elements, when the soil becomes
warm, assume the gaseous form, and tend to rise to the surface, and
will be diffused through the soil lying over them, and, if there are ele-
ments in the soil having an affinity for them, will be retained.
Other elements, which are not volatile, as lime, ashes, salt, &;c., but
which are soluble in water, may be safely applied on or near the sur-
face, and will be dissolved by the rain, and carried into the soil.
Some vegetables strike their roots deeply into the soil, and for their
perfect development require a deep tilth. In such instances, trench-
ing is peculiarly advantageous. For such crops, manures should be
worked as deeply as possible. In preparing a garden soil, it is good
practice, to spread on the surface a coating of manure, and plough it
in deeply, and then to add a dressing of line compost or liquid manure,
and work it in with the harrow or rake ; thus the plant will find
nutriment at every stage of its growth. For potatoes, it is not neces-
sary to bury the manure so deeply, as they grow near the surface.

16

The same is true of the flat turnip. The question has been often
asked, how can manure be best applied for the coi-n crop ; — shall it all
be put upon the soil before ploughing, and be ploughed in deeply, or
shall a portion of it be applied in the hill, or near the surface?
"When corn is to be grown on newly turned grass land, shall the
manure be spread upon the grass, and turned under the sod ? This
is certainly the easiest way of applying it, and many contend that
when it is applied in this way, although the corn may not be as vig-
orous in the early part of the season, yet in the latter part, when the
roots have struck through the rotting sod, and found the manure de-
posited beneath, it will grow with sufficient vigor to make up for the
time lost in the early part of the season. Others contend that it is
better to turn over the soil in the autumn, and in the spring work in
the manure upon the surface of the furrows, Avith the harrow or culti-
vator. In this way, it is said the corn will get a vigorous start in the
early season, and when its roots strike into the mellow sod, they Avill
find nouiishment sufficient to sustain their growth.

In answer to both these positions, we reply, that the largest growth
of corn that we have ever seen, was produced by a combination of the
two methods. Two-thirds of the manure, say sixteen loads to the
acre, were spread upon the sward, in the Sjjring. This was then
turned over to a good depth. The harrow was vigorously applied,
and after this, furrows were made for the rows with a light plough.
Then the other third, say eight loads, was put into the furrows and
the kernels dropped ten inches apart. This gave the corn an early
start, and it grew vigorously from the commencement, and its roots
soon found the lich nutriment deposited below the sod. The crop in
this case was one hundred and four bushels to the acre.

Practical men difler about the proper mode of applying manures in
the culture of corn. As the corn crop is perhaps the most important
crop to the country — is in fact the national crop, this is a subject of
great importance. But it is questionable whetiier any rule of uni-
versal a[)plication can be given. We think that different soils mjiy
require different methods of application.

In a clayey, heavy soil, it is imi)ortant that the management should
be such as to render the whole soil warm and light. To accomplish
this end, a large portion of the manure should be incorporated with
the soil by the plough. We think green manures on soils of this
description should be used for this purpose. But as this soil, unless
underdrained, is cold, and does not set the crop forward eai-ly, some-
thing more is needed. A small quantity of well com})Osted manure
in the hill, meets this deficiency. This process is attended with labor
and expense, but we think these are fully repaid by the result.
Indeed in such soils, without the use of such means, the crop is un-
certain unless the season is iavorable. In light, warm soils, the whole
of the manure may be worked into the soil with safety, and perhaps
with more advantage to the soil, if the object is to prepare it for fu-
ture crops. In any soil, if the chief purpose is to improve it, and
prepare it for grass, grain or other crops, as speedily as possible, and
the corn crop is a secondary object, the whole amount of barn manure
should be thoroughly incorporated with the soil, and a little guano or

17

other nitrogenous manure put into the hill, to serve as a stimuhis to
the corn crop. In this w:iy, when tlic soil is cold and tenacious, a
good corn crop may be secured, and the soil i-apidiy prepared for
future use. The stimulant will be expended on the corn crop, and
will contribute little or nothing to the permanent improvement of the
land. For this we must depend wholly, so far as manures are con-
cerned, upon the stable and compost manures. But we think the
corn crop is of sufficient importance to be considered a primary crop,
and that the mode of applying the manure in all cases, should be
such as to insure a good crop, while at the same time the permanent
improvement of the soil is secured. These objects are by no means
incompatible, and may both be attained at the same time, and by the
same process. In the culture of corn, manures should be liberally
applied. There is less labor and less expense in raising sixty bushels
of corn on one acre than on two, and in the former case the land will
be leit in a better condition than in the latter.

One great necessity for applying manui-e in our climate, is, that
plants may be forced more rapidly through all the stages of their
growth, since if left to themselves, the season would not be long
enough to bring them to perfection ; and that system of culture which
pushes them forward early, that they may get well rooted, and there-
ibi'e be the better able to endure the droughts of July and August,
and thus arrive at early maturity, before the frosts of September, we
think must be the best system. Could we add another month to the
summer of our climate, we could cultivate many crops, with a much
less amount of stimulants than we require at present. Now we have
to guard against the di'oughts of summer, and the early frosts of
autumn, and 1 do not esteem it safe practice, to deposit the manure
for the corn so deep in the soil that the growing crops cannot reach
it till late in the season. AVhen stable manure or compost is ploughed
in deep, Ave would recommend the application of well diluted guano
ashes or fine compost in the hill. In this way, with a season at all
favorable, the crop will rarely fail.

As a general rule, we would say that all compost should be well
worked over in the early spring, before the weather becomes suffi-
ciently warm to occasion a rapid development of the gases, and ren-
dered as fine as possible. If the heap is too wet to work fine, a suffi-
cient quantity of dry soil, or peat, or charcoal pulverized, or plaster
should be added, to absorb the moistui-e and destroy the tenacity of
the mass. All manures should be applied in as fine a state as is
possible, without too much exposure to the action of the atmosphere.
If manures are reduced in cool weather, when they are not in a state
of active fermentation, it may be done without great loss of their
gases. All manures that are to be applied to the surface should be
pulverized as finely as possible. Some plants spread their roots near
the surface, as the strawberry, and the whole family of the cucurbit-
acea. These especially require finely i-educed manure. When ma-
nures are to be buried deeply in the soil, this mode of preparation is
less absolutely necessary. All manures, whether applied in a coarse
or fine state, should be immediately covered under the soil, that as
much as possible of their volatile elements may be absorbed by the

18

soil. These elements, as we have already said, permeate the soil, and
divide its particles, and render them light and easily traversed by the
delicate rootlets. This mechanical effect is one of" no small import-
ance. A soil rendered light and porous by fermenting manure, is as
much better for the operation, as bread risen by yeast is better than a
mass of dough.

It is the general practice of our cultivators to apply manures but
once in the season. But certain manures may be applied more than
once, with much profit, provided they are applied during the growing
stage of the plants, and in such a form, as to mingle at once with the
soil, and become a constituent part of it. It must be either finely
pulverized or in a liquid state. In either form it should be immedi-
ately worked into the soil in the immediate vicinity of the plants, with
the rake or hoe. Many plants, including most of the smaller fruits,
may be treated in this way, with good results. "We have already
seen that manures may be applied several times during the season to
grasses, thus enabling us to take two or three crops or cuttings in a
yeai*. This is of great value in soiling cattle, as it enables us to sup-
ply them with green and succulent food during the entire summer
and autumn from the same ground.

Did we understand more perfectly the chemical constitution of all
the plants which we cultivate, we might doubtless, in many cases,
supply to the soil the elements especially needed by the plants. But
we do not anticipate any very important results from the doctrine of
specific manures, considered by itself Grapes appropriate a large
amount of lime and potash. Asparagus, a marine plant originally,
appropriates marine salts. But we cannot depend upon lime and
potash to give us luxuriant grapes, nor upon marine salts alone for
large and succulent asparagus. They both require in addition to
these substances, a generous supply of the same elements of nutrition
that other plants require. Onr discussion has already prolonged
itself much beyond our expectation, and we will not go into the sub-
ject of the application of this class of manures ; and will merely
remark that the subject is but imperfectly understood, and that much
experimental research is needed to guide us in their application, to
any certain results.

Nature works out from a few simple elements variously combined,
the wonderful variety of products exhibited by vegetable life. If left
to herself, she always obtains a supply of these elements. But when
disturbed in her operation? by short-sighted man, who removes from
the soil its productions for his own use, instead of leaving them to
decay where they grow, the soil becomes exhausted of necessary
elements, and unless they are returned to it in the form of manures,
she soon becomes unable to complete the processes which she com-
mences, for want of material. The plant is not perfect. Its frame-
work is not fully developed, or its seed does not reach a perfect form,
or does not arrive at maturity. The crop becomes annually smaller,
because the needful elements are annually diminishing. In the older
Western States, we are told that the wheat crops have diminished
from one-fourth to one-third in quantity, per acre ; and unless the
elements that have been removed from the soil, are returned to it, the

19

crop will contihue to diminish in a still more rapid ratio, until it
ceases to be a remunerative crop. In Eastern Virginia and Mary-
land the soils that formerly yielded thirty bushels of wheat now yield
five or six, and are being deserted because their prodeCe will not sus-
tain their cultivators. Guano has been applied to such soils. The
nitrogen and phosphates and alkalies which it contains, render solu-
ble certain elements still found in the soil; and one or two crops of
ten or twelve bushels, have been taken from the soil. But this pro-
cess will soon cease, and the soil be left more perfectly exhausted
than before. Portions of this soil are being treated in a different
way, by cultivators of market vegetables, who are applying muck,
stable manure, lime, leached ashes, green crops, and whatever will
restore to the soil, in the most permanent form, the elements required
by such vegetables.

Hundreds of acres may now be found covered with thrifty crops of
strawberries, gooseberries, currants, celery, radishes, turnips, beets,
onions, melons, and similar crops, Avhich a few years ago did not repay
the labor of cultivation. The favorable climate and the convenient
market I'ender such cultivation highly remunerative. The neighbor-
ing cities furnish the means of restoring to the soil the elements need-
ed to sustain the large draught made upon it. The outlay for manures
in this case is large, and for grain culture probably would not pay.
But it shows in a striking manner what manures may accomplish.
There is a vast amount of manurial substance produced in all cities,
the largest part of which is annually wasted. If it could be carefully
collected and judiciously applied to the soils in their vicinity, it would
wonderfully increase their productiveness. But the transportation of
manures to the soil to be cultivated, is an expensive operation, and
will prove economical only within certain limits and for certain pur-
poses. The true system of farming in this State is undoubtedly to
consume upon the farm so much vegetable matter, that the solid and
liquid animal excrement resulting, applied either simple or composted
with other suitable matei'ials, shall enable the farmer steadily to in-
crease his crops, while at the same time, his soil shall be as steadily
growing richer, and more productive. Every acre cultivated, should
be left in better condition after the crop is taken off, than it was when
it was put on. To attain this point, no more land should be culti-
vated, than can be done without exhausting it. The good teamster
will keep his horses or oxen at work steadily, without diminishing
their flesh or strength. Every one who has had experience will
affirm that it is the most jjrofitable to keep his team in high condition.
The same thing is true of the soil. If the good teamster has food for
only two horses, he will not attempt to keep three. So the judicious
farmer will cultivate no more acres than he can feed well. In most
instances it is better and more profitable, and attended with less labor,
to raise sixty bushels of corn on one acre, than on two. The soil in
the former acre is left in a better condition, and in a better state for
any succeeding crop than in the latter.

We think that in general, the farmers in this State must rely upon
their own farms, for their permanent supply of manures. Imported
manures and artificial manures may occasionally be resorted to, as

temporary expedients. But unless the produce can be sold at a near
market and a liigh price, their u<e will not be found economical in the
long run. But although Ave think every farmer should rely upon his
own farm, he may with propriety avail himself of such natural
sources of supply as his own neighborhood affords. The cultivator
upon the sea-shore may and ought to use (he substances thrown ;\t his
feet by the waves. P^ish and fish offal are a resource of great value
to those within its reach. If combined with peat as a deodorizer,
during the process of putrefaction, it may be used without incon-
venience. Marl beds are so many mines of wealth to ciiltivalors in
their neighborhood. In the vicinity of soap works, every one will be
eager to avail himself of the leached ashes. The woolen factory
aflbrds wool waste, an article of great value as a fertilizer. A'^arious
manufacturing establishments, as glue-making, tanning, gas-making,
&c., furnish waste material that may be obtained by farmers in their
vicinity, at a remunerative price. Every opportunity to obtain these
and similar materials, to add to the manure prepared in his own
laboratory, will be improved by the enterprising farmer.

There is one other means of reclaiming and fertilizing an exhausted
soil, to which we have barely alluded, which we think is worth}' of more
attention than it has of late received, especially upon light sandy soils,
at a distance from the farm, or from extra sources of supply, we mean
the ploughing in of green crops. The best crojis ibr this purpose are
clover and buckwheat. Let the soil be ploughed five or six inches
deep, and seeded with buckwheat, early in the season ; and in July, or
as soon as it is in full blossom, let it be turned in, seven inches, and
immediately seeded again, and it will give a second crop which may
be ploughed in, in September. Let this be turned in, and clover sowed
and harrowed in, and the next season this will afford a good dressing,
which will prei)are the soil for a crop of rye, which should be sowed
in the latter part of August, or early in September. If grass seed is
sowed with the rye, lands thus treated will yield good pasturage, for
three or four years, alter the crop of rye is taken off, when the same
process may be repeated. This process has been found an effectual
means of restoring exhausted pine lands, and in cases where it is not
preferred to renew the growth of wood, may be resorted to with
economy and success.

We have now spoken of the principles which should guide us in the
preparation and application of manures. We have also spoken of the
elements which enter into the composition of the principal manures
found in use in our State. The quantities of the several kinds which
may be most profitably applied, must depend upon the circumstances
of each case. These circumstances include the nature and conditioa
of the soil, the kind of crop, and the character of the manure. When
manures are carbonaceous and not volatile, they may be applied in
large quantities at a time, and their effects will be permanent. When
manures consist largely of volatile elements, it is a better rule to
apply annually or oftener, in such quantities as are needed for imme-
diate effect. Such manures cannot be depended upon for the perma-
nent improvement of the soil, for their active properties are soon
converted into gases, and lost. Their power is expended in the

21

growth of the present crop. Hence they should be applied only with
reference to this crop, and in sucli quantities as its wants require.
Tiie quantity of any kind of manure must be determined by observa-
tion and experience. The judgment and skill of tiie farmer arc to be
his guides in this matter. There has been undoubtedly a disposition
to cultivate too much land, — to spread our manures over too large a
surface. When tlie soil was new, this answered tolerably well, and
good crops were obtained for a time ; but many of our farms have in
this way become exhausted. As the soil becomes exhausted, by
repeated cropping, of the fertilizing elements which had been stored
up in it, the injurious effect of this treatment becomes more and more
apparent. Men are slow to renounce the usages that were estab-
lished in former times, and under different circumstances. They
hesitate to give up allegiance to custom, in agriculture, as in other
things, and pursue practices of ruinous tendency merely because they
are sanctioned by authority. Needed reformations are seldom inau-
gurated until they are compelled by necessity. But many of our most
iutelligent cultivators have commenced the work of reform, and when
w^e shall all, in every part of the State, so cultivate our lands that
they shall become more fertile and more productive after every suc-
cessive crop, we shall have learned the only true and economical
method of applying manures.

NO. 5. ~\
_NEW SEKIES.J

PRIZE ESSAY

AGEICULTURAL

EDUCATION.

BY

WILSON FLAGG,

OF ANDOVER, MASS.

BOSTON:

1858.

J. H. EASTBURN'S PRESS.

E S S A Y.

^'-The most useful system of agricultural instruction, by lohich to ac-
quire a practical agricultural education, stick us would jit a young
man to commence the business of a farmer, upon the average of
farming lands in Massachusetts."

It Avill be assumed, at the commencement of this essay, that it is
desirable that the farmers of Massachusetts should continue, as they
ai-e now, a class of independent working-men, and proprietors of the
lands they occupy and cultivate. If we look about the country, we
find individuals who own from one hundred to three hundred acres of
land, who are industrious and able-bodied men, and intelligent citi-
zens. They are capable town officers and good public servants in a
variety of civil capacities. They are, also, proficient in practical
agriculture, and are liberal and progressive in their ideas of their
own business. Such men represent the standard to which we ought
to strive to elevate the whole class of farm-proprietors. They should
possess skill, hardihood and industry, because on these qualities de-
pends their thrift ; they should be well educated and intelligent, or
they cannot preserve their independence.

There is no object, therefore, more deserving the attention of those
Avho are directly, or indirectly, the guardians of the pubHc interest,
than the education of young men who are engaged in the pursuits of
agriculture. At the outset, however, we are met by the objection,
that the surest means of causing a young man to quit his paternal
acres and enter into other business, is to give him a superior educa-
tion. This is not to be regarded as proof that knowledge gives one
a distaste for rural occupations, but rather, that it affords him the ca-
pacity to earn a livelihood in an easier and more eligible way. A
farmer's employments are laborious, comparatively unsocial and un-
stimulating to the ambition, and they do not lead rapidly to wealth.
If, therefore, the son of a farmer has received a better education than
the generality of his fellow-citizens, he leaves the farm, not always
from a dislike to it, but, because he can more easily obtain wealth by
the exercise of his wits, and by the use of his acquisitions, than by
woi'king in the field.

Men will not voluntarily pursue a laborious occupation, if their
education and habits have fitted them for an intellectual or sedentary
one which is attainable. Hence, if we qualify those young men who
are to be devoted to agriculture, by a superior education, to earn an
easy livelihood in some more eligible pursuit, we do that which will
entice them away from the farm. Their attainments flatter them
with at least the hope of success in other departments of business,
and they will be led by this illusion to neglect, if not to leave their

early chosen pursuit. But we are not to conclude from these cir-
cumstances, that this class of young men must be kept in ignorance ;
we are rather to infer that their education and discipline should be
peculiar. Our present object, therefore, is to consider the means that
could be most advantageously used for instructing young men in the
science and practice of agriculture, without lessening their attachment
to the occupations of the farm, or creating inducements for seeking
their fortune in other ways.

In order to train young men to be good and persistent farmers, they
must be better qualified to succeed in farming than in any other busi-
ness ; but we can only approximate towards any system of education
devised for this purpose, and the greater number of its appliances
must be indirect. If we cannot create agricultural schools and col-
leges ; if we cannot, except to a very limited extent, furnish direct
instruction to the youth of the rural classes — we may, nevertheless,
supply them with new motives to make use of the opportunities they
possess for acquiring knowledge ; we may inspire them with ambition
to be skilful farmers, by making the farm their pride ; we may induce
them to put foi'th more energy in their occupation, by showing them
how it may be made more profitable. Every young man is seized
with a passion to become proficient in his business, as soon as he dis-
covers that by skilful practice it may be made a source of wealth ;
while on the other hand, he cares not to learn or to pursue an em-
ployment which cannot afford him the gratification of his wishes.

It should be premised, if, indeed, it be not too obvious a principle
to be mentioned, that the grand motive to follow any pursuit that re-
quires patient labor and industry, while it holds out no tempting prizes
to the ambition, is necessity. One obstacle to the improvement of
agriculture in this country is undoubtedly the absence of an absolute
necessity, on the part of any class of our inhabitants, to devote them-
selves pei'manently to farming. Neither has there existed an actual
necessity for the exercise of a great deal of practical knowledge, or
skill, in the occupation. When a farm has been exhausted of its fer-
tility, the owner has perceived that it would be more profitable to
sell the old farm and buy one that is new and unimpaired, than to
endeavor to improve, or regenerate, the old one. The art of farming
in America has been, to a great extent, that of buying and clearing
new lands, and using the natural productiveness of the soil to the best
advantage for the present time.

As population increases, and as the wild lands become exhausted,
there will arise a necessity for the art of regenerating old farms and
worn-out soils, instead of making the best present use of new and
productive lands. This necessity has in a considerable degree already
come upon the inhabitants of the Eastern States. But there are still
so many avenues of employment open to young men, presenting
them superior or more tempting inducements than the humble prizes
which are offered by farming, that the growth of a strictly agricultu-
ral class must for many years be moderate. A young man will not
consent to build stone wall or hoe corn in one field, while an adjoining
one offers him an opportunity of digging for gold. The prosperity of
agriculture would soon follow the concurrence of such circumstances

as Avould render (he business a matter of choice to those who were
bred to it. By this we mean a state of things that should make it
apparent to every intelhgent young man wlio has learned farming,
that he could not choose a wiser course for his own interest and hap-
piness, than to devote himself entirely to this pursuit.

It is wise, howevei", to anticipate this period, and while millions of
acres in the State are lying unimproved, to take such steps and use
such measures as shall induce a sutlicient proportion of our youth to
become good practical farmers, instead of seeking their fortune in the
whirlpool of trade and manufactures. For the furtherance of this
end, the most important requisite is to afford the younger portion of
the rural classes such an education as shall so admii-ably tit them for
agriculture, that their own })ride in the excellence of their skill shall
induce them to prefer it to other employments. Let us then consider
the various appliances, direct and indirect, by the use of which we
may gradually approximate towards the accomplishment of this de-
sirable end.

In instituting a system of agricultural education, there are five gen-
eral objects to be regarded : —

First, the moral training of the youth, to cause them to love their
occupation :

/Second, their physical training, to enable them to endure their
labor :

Third, their mechanical practice, to fit them to perform their
work :

Fourth, their early practical instruction to qualify them to under-
stand their business :

Fifth, their instruction in collateral science to enable them to
improve their practice.

The moral training of the youth, included in the first head, is the
most difficult point to be discussed, under the present circumstances
of the country, when other employments offer more dazzling tempta-
tions, and promise greater rewards than the sober occupations of agri-
culture. Population has not yet become so dense as to cause a man
who owns a farm to congratulate himself that it is not other property.
Indeed he often feels chagrined, when he considers that the accidental
possession of a farm has imposed upon him some necessity to live on
it. In too many instances a farmer with five or six sons is unable to
induce one of them to remain upon the homestead and follow his occu-
pation. All, one by one, as they approach manhood, leave the farm
and give their attention to other pursuits. One learns a mechanical
art, another studies a learned profession, and others become trades-
men. Not one can be persuaded to take the farm, though it be
promised to him as his inheritance, if he will but consent to
occupy it.

We will admit that it is not desirable that every farmer's son
should follow the business of his father. All other employments must
be replenished by those who go out from the agricultural ranks, which
must always furnish the largest proportion of healthy men. The aim
of the statesman should be to place agriculture on such a basis, as
that the father who is a farmer should always be represented by one

of his sons, and that of several, the one who receives tlie farm as his
portion, should be regarded as the most fortunate, though the others
inherit the same amount of wealth ; that the farm should not go
a-begging for an occupant among the heirs ; but should pass down
from father to son, with all those advantages that attend the holding
of an estate a long time in the possession of one family.

There are many causes for this general aversion to the steady pur-
suit of agriculture ; and in discussing the first point of a farmer's edu-
cation, it may be well to enumerate some of the most prominent moral
causes. The lesson that is taught our young men is not, as it ought
to be, to prepare themselves to obtain a good livelihood, and to prac-
tice that industry and economy which will slowly, but surely lead to
competence : on the contrary, they are taught to look with secret con-
tempt on one who would be satisfied with growing rich by the slow
process of industry and frugality. A virtuous economy is not distin-
guished from avarice and meanness. Young men are led to over-
rate the importance of superfluous wealth, the hope of which absorbs
nearly all their thoughts. The aims of ambition presented to their
minds, are to be " great men :" — not industrious, honest and intelli-
gent citizens — but men of excessive Avealth or distinguished position
— for such only receive the eulogies of the press, the pulpit and the
lyceum.

If all the young men, who are destined to be farmers, could be in-
spired with an ambition that is based upon the pursuit of agriculture,
this ambition alone would cause them to become skilful and intelli-
gent in the practice of their art. It is those who love their occupa-
tion who are the most likely to become well acquainted with it. The
means and opportunities for the acquisition of knowledge are so great,
that it is more important to increase the desire for any branch of
knowledge than the opportunities for gaining it. But so long as
young men commence the business of farming, with an ambition only
to be rich, they will not employ their minds upon the best modes of
cultivation, but upon the means that might be used to cause a rise in
the value of their estate. They will endeavor to get a railroad sta-
tion near it, or some manufactory, not to improve the market for its
products, but that they may convert the old homestead into house-
lots, and make money by the sale of them. Without denying that
such enterprises may often be advantageous to the public, it is evi-
dent that this method of employing the mind is ruinous to the attain-
ment of useful agricultural information or skill, and to the improve-
ment of tiie farm.

This chance of growing rich by land speculation is very apt to ruin
the thrift of a farmer, because it diverts his mind from his business,
and employs his faculties in a way that does not increase his profi-
ciency in his art. One is more likely by such efforts of the mind, to
become a good politician than a good husbandman. Any train of
circumstances, therefoi'e, which serves to discourage these diverting
hopes of wealth, and these speculating habits, and turn one's attention
to the science and practice of agriculture, as his exclusive occupation,
will prepare him for excellence in his department. This must be a
slow process, and must partly grow out of the changing condition of

the country ; it cannot be wholly the result of any direct systeni of
training or instruction. But many influences may still be brought to
bear upon the public mind, Avhich may serve to hasten the develop-
ment of a general love for rural occupations, and an ambition among
farmers to be excellent in their business.

So long as our young men engage in farming against their free
will and inclination, because they are crowded out of other paths ;
so long as, while occupied in the field, they comfort themselves with
the hope that something may happen, which will turn the old home-
stead into a field for land speculation ; so long as their ambition finds
no gratification in the management of the farm, we would say, though
they may be useful and intelligent citizens, they cannot be skilful or
successful farmers. Some of the right ambition might be fostered by
efforts that should induce men to improve the beauty of their farms.
Many a youth might be prompted to retain the farm in his possession
by that love which was first created for it, by its picturesque appear-
ances, and those charms that please the eye of a man of taste. Let
the old farmers understand, that if they would induce one or more of
their sons to follow their occupation, they would find it expedient to
avoid marring the beauty of their fields by the destruction of their
natural ornaments. The removal of an old oak tree from a knoll in
an adjoining pasture, or a fine clump of native shrubbery from the
brow of a hill that overlooks the house, may turn the mind of the
only one of the sons who has any inclination for farming, into another
direction. Who can tell how many good resolutions, in favor of rural
pursuits, have been destroyed by the axe that laid low the beautiful
ash tree that shaded the path to the old farm-house, or the noble oak
that showered its sweet acorns in some familiar nook ! The avarice
of the farmer who sells to the " timberer " the sylvan beauty of his
estate, has made many an intelligent youth a voluntary exile from his
paternal fields.

To make the farm an object of affection, it must also contribute
something to gratify the desires of the ambition. A man who is proud
of his farm would also wish to be proud of his farming. A taste for
rural embellishment, prudently and economically directed ; for that
kind of embellishment which appeals to the principle of utility and to
the love of nature rather than of art, may be made an important aid
in improving the education of farmers. As soon as one begins to
improve the appearance of his estate, he begins to improve his taste
and his knowledge ; and though he should spoil some things in his
attempts, he becomes a gainer by the exercise which the work has
afforded his mind.

It is somewhat dangerous to recommend home embellishments, as
they are generally associated only with architectural follies, with nice
gravel walks and showy parterres. The generality of men find it
difficult to understand the meaning of embellishment, as applied to
those simple and rustic ornaments that cost nothing, and which are
so peculiarly appropriate to a farmer's home. The books which have
been published in England and in this country, on " Landscape Gar-
dening," furnish no valuable ideas to the New England Farmer, and
the best of them would serve but to lead him astray.

8

There are many other congenial influences that might be used to
inspire young men with a love for rural pursuits. They are now too
apt to consider their hard hands as disgraceful, and to overlook the
honors wliich may be held in them. No man Avould be ashamed of
his hard hands, who could point to certain results that prove them to
have been intelligently employed. Let him show by his good prac-
tical information, his gentlemanly deportment, his excellent farm, his
beautiful estate, and his happy and virtuous family — a subject as
worthy the pride of an American as of a Roman — that his hard
hands are associated with a superior intellect, and are proof that his
mental gifts are not conjoined with physical degeneracy. Let him be
proud of his possessions, not as mere evidences of wealth, but as
proofs of industry, skill, intelligence and taste. How noble is such
an ambition, compared with the wretched vanity of those, who sacri-
fice their manhood, and submit to the abject slavery of fashion, to gain
a little sh§rt-lived notoriety.

Some beneficial effects might be produced by furnishing the town
libraries with books that serve to raise the merits of rural pursuits.
Books that aim, by the statement of agreeable facts, not by mere
declamatory praises, to exalt our ideas of a farmer's life, and to
render it pleasing both to the ambition and the imagination of youth,
should be selected for the juvenile libraries. If no such works exist,
they ought to be written. This is one of the neglected departments
of literature ; for the praises which Virgil and Horace bestowed upon
a country life, are in the present age considered as mere poetical
fictions. The counting-room, not the open field, is now lauded as the
situation most becoming a freeman. The slavery of confinement is
preferred to the wearisomeness of labor, and men who were formerly
taught to venerate the plough have forgotten their ancient faith, and
have turned to a new worship.

We must not omit to speak of the improvement of household econ-
omy, as likely to cherish a love for farming occupations. We intro-
duce this subject in connection with what we have said on moral
training, because the comforts and luxuries of home within the house,
must exert an important influence in making one contented with his
employments in the field. The table, no less than the fireside, should
furnish a rational entertainment to the family, to fill the minds of the
different members with agreeable anticipations, when they are away
from home, and with cheerful satisfaction, when they arrive. If young
men were accustomed to associate the farmer's life with all the whole-
some luxuries of an ample and generous board, they would hold it in
higher esteem, as well as affection. But if it is associated with the
idea of a mean, unwholesome and monotonous fare, such as Ave see
upon many farmers' tables, it is hated and despised. Our farmers'
wives know less of the art of preparing culinary fruits and vegetables,
in a variety of ways, than the people who live in town. Strange as
it may seem, they understand the confectioner's art better than they
know how to prepare for the table the simple products of the farm !
A farmer's fare is exceedingly monotonous, and is far from being a
model in regard to wholesomeness or economy. A little tract giving
an account of 8\\\ important vegetables and annual fruits, which may

be raised for domestic use, the method of cultivating them, and the
art of preparing them for the table, ought to be published and circu-
lated among farmers.

We will conclude our remarks under the first general head, by al-
luding to the establishment of frequent periodical fairs, in order to
supply the want of social pleasures, consequent upon the isolated
character of a farmer's home. This want of society is a sad misfor-
tune, in many cases, and contributes, perhaps as much as any other
circumstance, towai'ds creating a dislike for the occupations of agri-
culture. It is a want, however, which will gradually be supplied by
the increase of population, and the multiplied facilities of travelling ;
but it may also be relieved by many expedients, which would indi-
rectly aid the cause of education. Such would be the influence of
monthly agricultural fairs in the several counties or districts.

We will now turn our attention to the physical training which is
necessary to enable the young men to endure their labor. A boy who
is to be a farmer, and who is expected to work with his own hands,
must from his earliest years be trained to robust exercises. He must
be educated in such a manner, as not to be incapacitated to endure
the toil and hardship of a farmer's life. Without this hardihood his
business would be a sore affliction, and not an agreeable and healthful
employment. Labor and practice must attend all his steps ; and a
knowledge of the application of science to agriculture must be im-
parted to him during those days and hours, when occasion requires a
suspension of labor. All the gifts of science which a young man can
thus obtain, without a relinquishment of those habits of invigorating
exercise, which are needful to insure a capacity for toil, are clear gain
to agriculture. For every art, the youth who is to be instructed in
it, must be trained in harness ; and the knowledge that comes to him
while handling the implements of his art, is worth more than the same
amount gathered in a library. A slavish continuance of labor ought
to be condemned, because every man has a right to the enjoyment of
life ; but there is always danger, lest dui'ing long and frequent relax-
ations from labor, a young man may lose, both his capacity to endure
and bis willingness to follow a toilsome occupation. Such an objec-
tion is very generally urged by our farmers against agricultural col-
leges, which they say, would not only unfit the youth for labor, but
would cause them to turn away into other paths.

But our people obtain their ideas of an agricultural college from
the customs of our literary institutions, in which there is no just pro-
vision for the physical training of the pupils. In an agricultural
school, this would form a very important part of the exercises ; and
at such an institution, under a good system of regulations and disci-
pline, as at a military school, the boys would be hardened by their la-
bor on the farm connected with the school, while they were pursuing
a coui'se of studies. But agricultural colleges must be slow in com-
ing into existence, and under the most favorable auspices, could not
extend their benefits very widely among our scattered farming popu-
lation. Without denying the advantages which would accrue to those
who should receive their education at such a school, we must at pres-

5-8

10

ent consider how we can make the best use of the means of education
which are available.

We must not overlook the fact that the farmer, unless he be pos-
sessed of great wealth, must be a working-man. He is not obliged
to be a drudge ; he may consistently with his robust frame and his
laborious habits, be a m«n of extensive knowledge and an intelligent
citizen ; but he cannot be a student, in the usual acceptation of the
term ; nor a searcher of libraries. Like a soldier, he must be trained
to robust exercises ; he must be able to endure severe occasional toil,
and must be preserved from physical degeneracy. Men of sedentary
habits may be powerful in sudden efforts of strength ; but the labori-
ous alone can endure long continued exertion.

Excellence in any calling, or profession, cannot be attained without
the entire devotion to it of all one's faculties. If we wish to convert
our farmers into an aristocracy of landlords, a body of country squires,
who shall merely superintend the operations of the farm, the physical
training required by a laboring farmer, might in their case, be omitted.
But they must not only enjoy increased advantages of education, they
must also increase their wealth, by making it at least ten-fold greater
than it is at present. It would be nothing to such a body of farmers,
whether they could hold a plough or swing a scythe ; nothing to them
that they could not perform half a day's labor, nor bear exposure to
cold and storm. Such a class of men, however, does not exist in the
New England States. Our farmers in general are men who have but
little wealth, except their houses and lands ; and the amount of labor
they can afford to hire is very inconsiderable. Out of these it would
not be possible, if it were desired, to create a class of wealthy men of
leisure. The aim of the statesman should be to improve the intelli-
gence and practical skill of our present yeomanry, without inducing
less industrious or laborious habits. The only cases we should ex-
cept are of those individuals, who from ignorance and the want of
sufficiently liberal ideas, have become voluntary drudges, and wear
themselves out with excessive toil.

Superior intelligence, caused by the diffusion of knowledge among
the mass of farmers, would probably diminish the necessity for the
present amount of labor to produce the same results, since knowledge
is confessedly one of the most important means to increase the effi-
ciency of labor. Too many of our farmers are now mere drudges,
and their wives and daughters are the same. This is the fact, in
many instances, in which poverty cannot be pleaded as an excuse for
it, and when it is plainly the result of ignorance, meanness or stupid-
ity. It is a misfoi'tune to be doomed to such excessive and unremit-
ting toil, as to be disqualified for any exercise of the intellect, or for
social recreations. This is the misfortune of some of the peasantry
of Europe ; but our people ought to be ashamed of it, because it is
not their doom. Slavish toil is disgraceful to freemen, and produces
both physical and mental degeneracy, by wearing out the body, and
causing the faculties of the mind to pine away from disuse. We
should endeavor to raise this class of our farmers from their present
voluntary servitude, by extending to them the means of education.
After they have become intelligent men, they will be thrifty farmers,

11

without degrnding themselves to the condition of beasts of burden.
Acknowledging the dignity of labor, when it is guided by intellect,
we should endeavor to convert our farmers into a superior class of
working-men.

The Americans are probably excelled by Europeans in the capacity
to endure severe labor and hardship. This is not the effect of our
climate, but of the changeful and unsystematic habits of our rural
population, with respect to labor and exposure to the vicissitudes of
the weather. Few of our farmers have always been steady in one
pursuit. Farmers' boys are generally vacillating between shoemak-
ing and farming, during all their early years, and sometimes for the
greater part of their life. They frequently pursue the two occupa-
tions together, being shoemakers in the winter, and farmers at other
seasons. Such a course may have been promotive of their interest,
under the past circumstances of the country. But the sedentary and
confined habits of the shoemaker are enfeebling, and a shoemaking
farmer, other things being equal, cannot be so robust and so capable
of enduring protracted labor and exposure, as one who has always
confined himself to the exercises of the farm. One may be some-
what more intelligent on general subjects, if he has joined his occupa-
tion with other pursuits ; but his practical skill in agriculture must be
somewhat diminished by the same causes. "We cannot have an agri-
cultural population equal in practical skill and efficiency to that of the
best agricultural provinces of Europe, until a change of circumstances
has caused our farmers to be exclusively devoted to their art. So
long as farm-labor is so unsystematic, that during a considerable part
of the year, a farmer must attend to other business to fill his unoccu-
pied time, agriculture cannot be carried to perfection.

While treating of the capacity for enduring labor and hardship, as
an indispensable qualification for a working farmer, the question nat-
urally arises, how far an individual may cultivate his mind without
enervating his body. This is an important physiological inquiry ; for
it is granted that the highest cultivation should be recommended to
every class of working-men which is compatible with the requisite
amount of muscle and physical energy. But there is a law of
compensation, which it is unwise either to ignore or to overlook, how
much soever it may disturb our ideas and hopes of human perfecti-
bility. "While it will not be denied that the best system of education,
for any class of people, is that which permits none of the physical,
moral or intellectual powers to remain unimproved, it must be admit-
ted — however deeply we may regret that nature has established such
a law — that any amount of time or exertion which is devoted to an
intellectual pursuit, is subtracted from the time and exertion which
might be employed in hardening the muscles, and fortifying the health.
"While we are cultivating our faculties for a certain class of exercises,
we are sacrificing so much of our opportunity, not to say our ability,
to acquire skill in exercises of an opposite character. Hence the noto-
rious fact, that the most thrifty men, in the common ranks of life, are
those who are fitted only for one occupation, if that one is their own
special calling. A want of versatility is favorable to success, in the
case of all who have learned and adopted a profitable business. Those

12

who are ignorant of all arts except their own, have no temptation to
turn aside from it. They do not yearn for a more agreeable and
congenial exercise of their faculties, like one of superior talents who
would see many other ways in which he might be more pleasantly,
if not more protitably employed.

We will not pursue this analysis any further, but hasten to the
conclusion, that a different system of physical, moral and intellectual
training is needful, respectively, for the members of the different
trades and professions. If we train a merchant to be a philosopher,
though we may increase his usefulness to society, we spoil his chance
of becoming rich. If we inoculate a mechanic with a knowledge of
the law, he becomes more skilful in disputation than in the use of
tools. If we convert a farmer into a book-worm, his conversation
is likely to be superior to his practice, and his head becomes stronger
than his hands. The educational question, which has not yet received
a satisfactory answer, relates to the course of training and instruction
which will serve in the best manner to improve the rural classes in
knowledge, and give them, at the same time, the greatest efficiency as
agricultural producers. It seems to be very generally admitted, how-
ever, that they should learn by practical observation and occasional
reading, rather than by any regular devotion to the study of books.

We are not prepared to contend for that severe application to toil
that leaves no time for recreation, or for the acquisition of knowledge ;
but merely for that regular devotion to robust exercises which is
necessary to preserve the greatest vigor of the physical constitution.
Our rural population must be preserved from physical degeneracy, or
as a nation we are lost ; for it is on this class that we are to depend
for the constant re-inforcement of the other ranks of society.
We can place no such dependence on the great body of artisans and
mechanics, since the majority of the mechanical arts tend, more or less
injuriously, to cramp one set of muscles and to overtask another set.
It is not among mechanics or the learned professions, that we are to
look for the most complete amount of physical development. Many
of the mechanical occupations are of such a sedentary character, and
so partial in their exercise of the frame, as to deform the body and
seriously impair the constitutional vigor. This cannot be said of the
employments of the farm. The sons of farmers, if brought up to
agricultural labor, are, above the children of all other classes, likely
to become good models of sound physical men. Their employments
exercise about equally all parts of their body : there is not a limb or
a muscle that is not continually brought into action. If our farmers,
at the present time, do not exhibit such a completeness of develop-
ment, it is because in connection with farming, they have pursued
other occupations which are less healthful, or they have committed
certain essential errors of diet and regimen, which are very common
among our laboring classes.

When employed, therefore, in devising a system of agricultural
education, we must not overlook the necessity of preserving the rural
classes from physical degeneracy. It is better that they should be
less scientific than less robust, less studious than less healthful : better
that they should be good farmers by rote, than effeminate scholars

13

who are unable to work. It is not probable that any action of our
agricultural societies can revolutionise the habits of our rural popu-
lation ; but without doubt a succession of wisely directed efforts miglit
set in motion a reformatory action, that would gradually elevate tiiis
class to the point which should be the end and aim of a rational phi-
lanthropist.

In studying these effects, we must not forget the influence of opin-
ions which, in their action on the general mind, when first introduced,
are like alterative medicines to the human system. If we can but
succeed in infusing correct opinions into the minds of men, these ideas
will cause them to do for themselves what a wise ruler might wish to
do for them, by the establishment of good institutions. The rural
classes have been greatly prejudiced against the improvement of their
minds, by hearing too much said in favor of scientific attainments for
the farmer. Their common-sense inclines them to believe that there
is more cant than philosophy in all this preaching. If we claim too
much for science, in its application to agriculture, our audience may
refuse to allow so much as they would, if our claims were less exor-
bitant. They perceive a certain incompatibility between study and
labor, between hard muscles and a full mind ; and hence they are led
to doubt the advantageous application of science to the exercise of
their art. A contrary opinion must not be enforced upon them with-
out qualifications ; for the common-sense of uninformed men is often
right when philosophy is wrong.

Men must be taught in a way in which they are willing to receive
instruction, and will not learn from those whose teaching humiliates
them. A farmer is usually proud of his common-sense, of his bodily
strength, his sagacity, his manual skill and his practical information.
Though he may over-estimate himself, he cannot too highly estimate
these qualities, of which any man may reasonably be proud. If we
approach one of these practical, sagacious and sturdy fellows, and
humble him by trying to prove that he would be a better farmer, if
he was likewise a man of science — a chemist, a botanist, an entomol-
ogist and philosopher — he is offended. He has a sort of intuitive
understanding that such a combination of science, practical skill and
robust vigor is impossible. The man who is trying to enforce upon
him the value of science may state many undeniable truths, but he
cannot convince him that a college would turn out so many good
farmers, among the same number of pupils, as an agricultural dis-
trict, with the farm ibr the school-room, nature for the laboratory,
and intelligent farmers for instructors.

The third division of our subject relates to the early mechanical
practice which is required to Jit young men to perform their work.
The distinction between practical knowledge, and manual skill or
mechanical tact, is not generally understood, but it is a very im-
portant one. The proprietor of a farm, who should superintend its
operations, if he were young and capable, though he never joined in
the labor, would soon obtain a practical knowledge of farming. But
unless he participated in the labor, he would not learn to hold a
plough, to swing a scythe, nor to perform any but the most simple
operations of agriculture. He might be thorough in his practical

14

knowledge, a good adviser in regard to times and seasons, sowing,
reaping and all that appertains to successful practice. Still he is not
a complete farmer, because he is wanting in manual skill and
mechanical tact. He cannot with his own hands perform the manipu-
lations of the farm.

An ignorant journeyman, on the other hand, who feels no particular
interest in farming, except to perform satisfactorily those manual
operations which are required of him as a hired laborer, such as
ploughing, sowing, mowing and reaping, may be very deficient in
practical knowledge, and incapable of managing a farm. The quali-
fications of each of these men must be joined in one to make a
complete farmer. The first is a man of practical knowledge without
mechanical tact, the other possesses mechanical tact without practical
knowledge. Too many men who call themselves farmers are mere
users of tools, efiicient workmen under the direction of others, but
wanting in that fund of intelligent experience which a master farmer
must possess. In large manufactories, where there is necessarily a
minute division of labor, it may be expedient to convert men into
machines, each individual performing only his particular part of the
work. But the farmer must be a whole man, not a machine ; he
needs to be both head and hand : he must have strength united with
skill, skill with experience, and experience with intellect. Otherwise
he is but the fraction of a farmer, and must depend on others, either
for guidance or execution.

With regard to manual skill and practical knowledge, we would
remark that there are more who would acquire the first than the last,
under equal opportunities for becoming proficient in each, because an
aptness to perform mechanical operations is a more common talent
than an aptness for nice and intelligent observation. But it cannot
be said that one is more important than the other. It is the practice
of these manual operations that gives a man that complete physical
development which is essential to a working farmer. One may learn
how land should be ploughed, by looking on, while the ploughmen
are at work ; but if he only looks on, he loses two advantages : he
fails to acquire that hardness and vigor of muscle which are devel-
oped by such exercise, and the mechanical skill and tact which are
needful for performing the task. The same may be said of all the
other exercises of the farm.

The farm must be the gymnasium in which strength and dexterity
are acquired, and the school in which the agricultural art must be
taught. Manual skill, like skill in debate, in mathematics, or in any
exercise of the wits, can be acquired only by early practice. Science
must be learned in college ; music in the concert room, the art of war
in the camp, and the practice of agriculture in the field. While an
intelligent lad is working on a well-conducted farm, he learns more
than we might at first believe : he is at the same time obtaining
knowledge, hardihood and dexterity. If he is building wall, every
stone he lifts from the ground hardens and perfects the growth of his
muscles, and every stone he places upon the wall accustoms him to the
skilful adjustment of the different materials. While he is ploughing,
he is acquainting himself with the character of different soils ; and

when engaged in weeding, though he is not a botanist, he learns to
identify uU the various phmts that inhabit the soil. The fund of
practical information thus obtained by capable men is not fully appre-
ciated, nor is the public generally aware how many different uses of
the muscles are required by the common tasks of the farmer.

A physician or a merchant may resort to farming, and without the
advantage of early practice, be remarkably successful in his new
business ; and the success of such individuals has led many persons
to overrate science when compared with practical experience. But
it will be found that these men are always dependent on the advice
of some person who has, from his youth, been accustomed to farm-
labor, and has become practically conversant with its exercises. Were
they left alone in their undertaking, or were they assisted only by
others like themselves, they would make a sad failure. He who
attempts, after his youth is past, without any previous experience, to
carry on a farm, soon discovers, that notwithstanding his superiority
to the mass of farmers in his capacity to learn new things, and in the
power of judicious discrimination between the value of new and old
systems, he suffers a painful inferiority, in minute practical knowledge,
to the most ordinary laboring man who was bred upon a farm. Men
who leave the ranks of a profession, or a counting-room, to become
farmers, and who, on account of their more liberal ideas, obtain many
important advantages over the old practitioners, do not always suffi-
ciently consider how poorly their education would serve them, if there
were no practical farmer to advise them, nor skilful workman to per-
form their labor.

Some may be disposed to deny that the manipulations of the farm
require that long apprenticeship which is usually devoted to learning
a mechanical art. This may be true of any particular branch of
farm-work ; but there is a great variety of labor and skill involved
in the whole circle of operations. A young man who is strong and
capable, may learn in one season to swing a scythe, so as to be
reckoned competent to receive ordinary wages ; but an experienced
mower would readily perceive his own superiority. If, however, he
could perfect himself in one set of manipulations during the first
season, he would require a second season to learn another set, and
before he was proficient in all departments of skill, he would have
served nearly a seven-years' apprenticeship.

It is worthy of remark, that while men in general see very clearly
that they cannot be good practitioners of certain arts, without a long
course of study and experience, they believe that there are other arts
which they would not be obliged to learn, but may, if they please,
" take up," at any time. One of the occupations which they suppose
they can " take up " thus suddenly and without preparation, is farm-
ing. When they watch an artist who is drawing the working-plan of
a house, in all its parts, they perceive, if they are not artists, that he
is performing a work which is beyond their own ability ; but when
they see a man dropping potatoes into a hill, or hoeing up weeds,
they think they see the evidence that any one can be a farmer. The
practice of agriculture and the practice of medicine resemble one
another in this indistinctness of their requirements ; yet they are the

16

most difficult of all arts, because there are so many circumstances in
their experience, which cannot be precisely stated or exactly defined.
Hence there are multitudes of stupid and ignorant persons, who
believe they can successfully act the farmer or the physician, be-
cause they are incapable of seeing or appreciating their deficiencies.
With respect to mathematics, and all the exact sciences and arts,
every man of common-sense, who is ignorant of them, understands
the proof of his ignorance. A man sees at once why he cannot
make a telescope, or survey a coast by trigonometry ; but he cannot
see why, if he has learned the virtues of a few herbs, and the names
of a few diseases, he may not be a physician, or why, if he knows
how to put seed into the ground and cover it up, he may not be a
farmer. A science or art requires experience, in exact proportion to
the uncertainty that exists in the application of its rules and princi-
ples ; yet this very uncertainty renders the ignorant more bold in as-
suming the practice of such an art. Hence the multitude of quacks
who invade the ranks of medicine and of agriculture.

A complete farmer will be found, therefore, only among those who
were brought up to the business of farming. All others must be
awkward in the performance of their labor, unskilful in their manip-
ulations, imperfect in their practical knowledge, and if they carry on
a farm, can be successful only by using the advice and experience of
their hired men. The operations of ploughing and scattering seed, of
mowing, reaping, gathering and stacking the different crops ; the
rearing of animals and the management of cattle, both when employed
in labor and when in the stall ; the modes of executing the ditferent
tasks connected with their training, and the adjustment of their har-
ness and their burdens ; the care of fences and buildings and the prep-
aration and equipment of agricultural implements, constitute a variety
of performances, and require a manifold exercise of mechanical skill,
which can be acquired only by many years of early practice.

To encourage this kind of practical skill and dexterity, it is evi-
dent that we must promote the growth of a class which is exclusively
agricultural. We do not say caste, because this would imply a certain
want of freedom to leave its ranks; and such a state of things is
always fatal to improvement. All farmers' sons in this country are
not expected to be farmers ; it is sufficient that those who consent to
be their representatives, should be trained from their early years with
this expectation. The others are expected to constitute the best ma-
terials to replenish the ranks of other occupations. Our people have
but little idea of the extreme nicety with which many of the opera-
tions of the farm are conducted by the rural classes of Europe, and
which is the I'esult of their exclusive attention to their art. This
carefulness has never yet become a matter of absolute necessity in our
system of agriculture ; but the efficiency of labor depends greatly
upon it, and it will become ere long indispensable to the farmer's
thrift and success.

The next topic of our discourse on the education of farmers is the
early practical instruction they require to enable them to understand
their business. With regard to practical knowledge and manual skill

17

in executing the tasks of labor, it would be very far from the truth to
say that one might not be an excellent farmer with these two qualifi-
cations alone. Indeed, it would be difhcult to find a person who joined
these qualifications with a proficiency in agricultural science, which is
more generally possessed by those who may be called amateur farmers.
Every man is not able to learn science in the midst of his necessary
avocations, and there are not many who are born with the capacity
to understand general principles. The majority of men, even when
highly educated, must be governed by facts and dogmas. The mass
of practitioners in the learned professions and the liberal arts, though
possessed of deep learning, are mere matter-of-fact men and followers
of routine, because every man is not born a philosopher. It is a good
and efficient practice, therefore, which is needful to be inculcated upon
the majority of every profession and calling. If we can but soften
the prejudices and obduracy of farmers, that they may be willing to
renounce their errors, to admit new facts and adopt new ways, we
shall have attained the most important advantage for the furtherance
of our ends.

"VVe have chiefly confined our remarks to incidental means of in-
struction, but have not yet devised any systematic course of educa-
tion in the agricultural art. If we ask formers how a young man
could be most properly instructed in this art, the answer which
would be given, almost unanimously, would be — " Put him on a farm
with a capable farmer, who will set him at work, and he will learn
his business by practice and observation, joined with such instruction
as he may receive from his master." Nothing could be more reason-
able than such advice, under the best circumstances of agricultural
practice, and it corresponds with all the precepts we have inculcated
in this essay. The boy, if he equals his master in good habits and
capacity, would probably become just such a farmer as his master ;
but if he obtained instruction from no other source, except his mas- .
ter's precept and example, he would not be likely to surpass him.

We are led, therefore, to inquire how the lad is to obtain that ad-
ditional instruction which, under the present imperfect condition of
American agriculture, the generality of farmers could not impart
either by precept or example ? It is admitted that the best school for
agriculture is the farm, that the best teacher must be a fai'mer, and
that practice is more important than study ; but it does not follow from
this admission, that every farm is a good school, nor that every farmer
is a good teacher. It remains, therefore, to discover some means
which may be successfully used to convert the generality of farms into
good schools and to supply the farmers' deficiencies in the capacity of
teachers. Shall something be annexed to each farm, or to each agri'
cultural district to furnish that instruction which the present genera-
tion of farmers cannot impart ; — shall agricultural schools be estab-
lished to supply this want ; or, lastly, shall it be supplied by the dis-
tribution of books and tracts, the diffusion of agricultural journals and
the multiplication of lectures ?

Let us first consider what sort of appendages might be made to the
farm, or annexed to an agricultural district to answer these purposes

5—3

18

of education. The adjuncts recommended by different writers and
lecturers on the intellectual wants of agriculture, are reading-rooms,
cabinets and libraries, and courses of lectures on the different depart-
ments of farming. With these are to be associated farmers' clubs, to
meet at the reading-rooms, for the purposes of debating, conversation
and study. To render them useful in the highest degree, the public
would be invited to send curiosities and other useful and interesting
matters to the cabinets, and individuals of other professions would be
invited to participate in their discussions.

Each of these schemes would, as far as they are practicable, secure
some of the purposes intended. But there are many obstacles that
interfere with the general establishment of them. Associations of
farmers cannot be instituted or maintained^ like mechanics' associa-
tions, because the rural classes are scattered widely apart, while
mechanics are congregated in towns and villages and can readily
assemble. Farmers' clubs and associations, except in some highly
favored districts, must assume the character of fairs, which may be
held periodically for the exhibition, sale and purchase of agricultural
products and live-stock. "We have no doubt of the great benefits that
would result from the establishment of clubs, reading-rooms, cabinets
and lectures ; but they cannot be extended or multiplied so as to meet
the wants of the whole population. They must, even if they were
numerous and general, be widely distant from the majority of those
who would be expected to attend them. Nothing could be got up at
these rooms and at these meetings, of sufficient interest to call tired
laborers together, from their distant and isolated homes ; and a very
small number only would feel any lively concern in the object of such
institutions. This last remark would not apply to periodical fairs,
because the pecuniary interest of the parties would induce them to
attend. Of these, their connection with the prosperity of agriculture,
and their influence on the education of farmers, more will be said in
another essay.

Theoretical attainments, and the knowledge of practical details may
be said to exert in one respect an opposite influence on the mind of
a pupil in agriculture. The first, carried beyond certain limits, would
tend to divorce a young man from his business, and wed him to other
pursuits more tempting to the ambition. Study not only disinclines,
but partially incapacitates one to endure protracted or severe labor ;
and a speculative habit of mind is a bar to steady progress. But the
greater one's proficiency in practice, the more closely is he bound to
his pursuit ; for, just in proportion as one feels conscious of his ability
to excel others in the occupation to which he was bred, would be the
strength of his motives to adhere to it. A man's ambition commonly
lies in the path of his talents and acquisitions, and he will not forsake
this path as long as it affords him a good livelihood. In regard to
practical knowledge, therefore, the remark of Pope is strictly true —
that " a little learning is a dangerous thing," because one's practical
deficiencies would be fatal to his success. But in regard to theoreti-
cal knowledge, so far as it concerns the farmer, the maxim might be
reversed ; a little learning is useful, but more might destroy his in-
clination for the labor of a farm.

19

It seems less difficult, however, to devise methods of communicating
scientific than practical knowledge to the youth, beside that which
they would learn on the farm. All those who are willing to read
might learn the most important results of science from books and lec-
tures ; but practical details are not so easily communicated through
such mediums, and must be acquired chiefly by observation, experi-
ence, and verbal instruction while pursuing one's avocations. The
theory only of any art can be thoroughly taught in books. A young
man of good talents may learn from books the whole theory of bank-
ing and mercantile business ; but if, without having been bred to the
arts of banking and trade, he should attempt to practice them, he
would find himself gi'eatly inferior to many an ordinary person who
was incapable of comprehending a general principle. Many an able
writer on the economy of trade would make a miserable financier.

Still it will not be denied that a very considerable amount of prac-
tical information may be communicated by books and lectures. Our
agricultural journals have been an important medium for the convey-
ance of practical knowledge as well as science. A book may exhibit
the best methods of performing the different operations of grafting and
budding, of transplanting, of draining, of constructing fences and
buildings, of identifying and destroying injurious insects, and a variety
of other matters which may be explained by words or illustrated by
diagram. But there are many other things which cannot be stated
with sufficient clearness in language. No man could learn from books
to distinguish the different varieties of wood and timber by their grain
and general appearance ; or the marks by which an excellent animal
is distinguished from one nearly as good — marks which are well
understood by a farmer who is practically skilled in the physiognomy
of domestic animals.

Many a person knows by experience those signs in the heavens
that indicate what the weather may be for the two or three following
hours ; but, however excellent in description, he could not by words,
without exemplification from nature, make others understand these
signs. He must call them to him and show them the actual appear-
ances; he must give them a portion of his own practical experience.
Books cannot intelligibly define all the different marks by which a
practical farmer distinguishes a good soil from a poor one, a calcare-
ous from a siliceous soil, or a fresh soil from one that is worn out and
exhausted. These marks are seen chiefly in their productions ; and to
explain them all in words would require long pages of details. But
the experienced farmer reads them all at a glance, from the page of
nature. On an exhausted soil he sees the starveling weeds coming
up almost without foliage ; grasses in meagre tufts half enveloped in
moss ; bindweeds with not strength enough to extend beyond a few
inches from their roots ; grey mosses, or jungermannia, appearing
among a few feeble shoots of brambles and lycopodies, and an occa-
sional grasshopper, that seems restless and discontented amidst the
insufficient provision of nature for his sustenance. It would be im-
possible to enumerate the marks of a worn-out soil, none of which a
practical farmer ever mistakes ; and though he may not be able to give

20

a botanical name to a single one of tliese plants, lie is no less accurate
in his observation and his judgment.

An important step towards improving the rising generation in prac-
tical knowledge would be taken, if any way could be devised for
teaching farmers in general the art of conveying their own ideas in
words. This is not a common faculty : even those who have what is
called the " gift of the gab," seldom possess it. With this power of
explaining their ideas, less of the knowledge which the masters pos-
sess would be lost to their apprentices. This object might be partially
accomplished, by writing a practical farmer's own ideas in simple and
intelligible language, and presenting them to him in print, for his
perusal. By this perusal of his own knowledge it would assume a
more palpable form, and a more distinct arrangement in his own
head. He would " understand himself" better than he did before.
Many persons of ordinary education but good practical sense, might
be made capable instructors, by the aid thus afforded them. Inde-
pendent of this advantage, a practical farmer would feel complimented
by seeing his own thoughts clothed in expressive terms, and made
clear to his understanding. There is many a farmer who can write
the English language grammatically and with propriety, who would
find himself greatly at a loss for expressions, to convey his thoughts
distinctly to another's mind. Words are important aids to thought,
and improve the clearness of our comprehension, as diagrams assist
the pupil in geometry.

This course of reasoning would seem to indicate the advantage of
publishing and distributing among farmers, short tracts on subjects of
practical agriculture, after the system pursued by religious tract soci-
eties. These should not be thrust intrusively and unceremoniously
upon the heads of families, but sent to them by their leave and under
the general title of " Tracts on subjects connected with practical
farming in New England, gathered from the experience of farmers,
for the benefit of their youth." As means of instruction, these tracts
would be more effective than the agricultural journals, we may say,
without any disparagement of the latter. When one takes up a
tract, if he reads it at all, he would read something that appertains to
agriculture : whereas if he takes up a newspaper, the agricultural
paragraphs might be the only parts which he would omit ; and they
are usually the parts to which the young reader pays the least atten-
tion. Besides, if the tract were published by a committee of an
agricultural society, it would seldom put forth any important, errors ;
while the editor of a newspaper, however correct in his knowledge and
judgment, is constrained to publish many crudities and whimsical
notions to satisfy the vanity of his correspondents.

It is needless to enumerate the topics which might be discussed in
a series of agricultural tracts. It is enough to say that they should
be written in a simple and luminous style, that they should treat only
of those matters which can be made interesting, and that they should
be gratuitously distributed. When treating of science they should
not be abstruse ; it is better to leave some important things unsaid, if
tliey be so abstruse as to disincline the reader to continue to the end

21

of the chapter. The tracts on scientific subjects ought, therefore, to
be written by intelligent ])ersons, who are not professors of science, as
the latter are notoriously incapable of reiulering their ideas in popu-
lar language. Those of a practical description might be written by
any one who has the command of an easy and perspicuous style, and
who is sufficiently acquainted with agriculture, to make correct reports
of the information he should obtain from its original sources.

An editor, who is capable of writing a part of the series, should be
appointed to superintend the preparation and publication of the tracts,
which might be distributed according to the following plan : — Let
each County Agricultural Society in Massachusetts receive at the cost
of paper and printing, as many copies as they might see fit to circu-
late among their fellow-citizens. The Massachusetts State Board of
Agriculture might be responsible to the printer and publisher, and pay
the editor's salary, as their part of the expense and trouble of the
enterprise. The burden of distribution, and the publishers' cost of all
they distribute, might fall upon the County Societies, as their part of
the labor and expense. The tracts should be published monthly, in
small duodecimo form, printed with long primer type, and containing
about eight or ten pages. The cost of the publication would be too
small to stand in the way of its expediency.

In the last division of our subject, we are to treat of the scientijie
instruction which is needful to farmers to enable them to improve their
practice. A good and efficient practice must not be sacrificed, nor
even jeopardised by application to the elements of scientific farming.
Let the youth be thoroughly versed in all the branches of practical
agriculture : it is sufficient, if they are only inoculated with science :
the mind is cleared thereby of those vulgar humors called prejudices,
which are the grand obstacles to progress and improvement. It is
not desirable to convert farmers into men of science : their avocations
will not permit them to acquire the learning of a professor : but they
ought, as far as possible, to be made familiar with those important
results of the investigations of learned men, which bear closely upon
the interests of agriculture. Some of the discipline of science would
also be valuable to them, by giving them an intelligent ear and a
willingness to listen.

He may be considered therefore, a good scientific farmer, who is
acquainted with the general results of science which are important to
agriculture, though he may be ignorant of the processes that led
to them. If, for example, one has learned the constituent properties of
a good soil, though he may not be able to analyze it ; if he knows
why a plant is dependent on its foliage for its growth and develop-
ment, though he cannot state the methods by which this fact may be
proved ; in fine, if one understands the general results of agricultural
chemistry, though he is no chemist ; the improvements in agricul-
tural machinery, though he is no mechanician, — he has all the science
which is generally available to the farmer. More than this cannot be
expected of those who devote the greater part of their time to labor,
and who must acquire a large stock of information from experience,
before they can establish themselves in business.

22

The most unwilling learners are those who are proficient in a cer-
tain mode of practice, and who possess but little general knowledge.
They perceive their own expertness in an art which but few under-
stand as well as they do, and they have naturally become proud of
their j^roficiency and jealous of those who attempt to instruct them.
This sort of bigotry is the result of ignorance, but not the ignorance
of one's business, and it is very common among good practical farm-
ers. A little more general knowledge would give them a willingness
to learn new ways, and to correct their errors. It is the obduracy of.
such men that causes them to jog along in the old by-road of pro-
fessional routine, while the public is carried forward in the car of
innovation. Hence we may account for the fact sometimes observed,
that young men who leave the ranks of some other business and be-
come farmers, go ahead of the old practitioners, in spite of their want
of skill and practical knowledge.

One great desideratum, therefore, in agricultural education, is to
gain a willing audience among practical farmers, and to show them,
without wounding their pride, that there are many things to be learned
by which they might improve their practice. A slight acquaintance
with the facts of science tends to liberalize their minds in this respect;
and as soon as one has been converted into a willing listener, he
cannot avoid becoming a learner. The streams of knowledge are
pouring down the hills of science in a thousand different channels.
They would spontaneously flow into every capable man's mind, if he
would consent. But many of our farmers shut them out by positive
efforts, lest they should disturb the sluggish waters of prejudice that
form a charming landscape to their sight.

The public entertains no very distinct ideas in relation to the
amount of science which is required by the farmer for the improve-
ment of his practice. The error of those who have treated of the
subject consists in demanding a larger stock of information of this
kind, than could by any means be rendered available to the generality
of working-men. In regard to chemistry, it may be expedient that a
farmer should know the chemical relations and affinities between
acids and alkalies, between oxygen and metallic substances, and the
results of their different combinations : he should undei'stand the
mutual dependence of the soil, of the atmosphere, of animals and of
vegetation upon each other, and should know their constituent
elements. All this he might learn, without deep study, from a little
instruction in the grammar of chemistry, which ought, indeed, to be
introduced into the district schools, being important to other arts
beside that of the farmer. The grammar of chemistry w^ould enable
one to learn and understand many facts which are constantly pre-
sented to the observation of farmers, and are lost to them for the
want of that rudimentary instruction that Avould make them intel-
ligible.

Most people feel a sort of contempt for botany, as if it were only
an amusement for young women, and not a grave study worthy of a
man and a philosopher. They associate the study only with flowers,
without considering that it has occupied the whole life of some of the

23

greatest of men. Our horticulturists generally possess a good knowl-
edge of botany ; and tliongh it is not equally important to the farmer,
it would greatly assist his progress in knowledge, and afford him'
many a pleasant exercise of his observation. A fanner should under-
stand the general principles of classification, and should be able to
identify a plant by a botanical description. How limited soever this
knowledge, every new fact which he learns renders him more intel-
ligent ; and every new ray of science that enters his mind, removes
some film of bigotry that has been drawn over his mental sight.

Let a young man understand the elements of any branch of
science, and his observations will constantly add to his knowledge,
Avhile if he vvere ignorant, his observations might serve only to con-
firm his prejudices. We are not surprised when we observe how-
much better a man can work with tools or instruments than without
them. But the principles of science are the tools of observation,
without which it is blundering and inefficient. Even if instruction of
this sort in the public schools were to reach only a few minds, those
few would render, a vast service to others by enlightening and direct-
ing their observation. If there be but one well-educated man in a
district of intelligent farmers, the whole number are profited by his
knowledge and his wisdom. Every neighbor sharpens his wits on this
man's grindstone. They all likewise respect their occupation the
more, because they can reckon one superior man in their ranks.

Geology is useful in explaining the resources of the country, and
assists one in estimating the value of land in different localities, from
the geological character of the place. But the principal advantages
of this science are such as arise from its influence on the mind.
Geology, above all other studies, engenders habits of reflection, and
interests one in the observation of natui-e ; and when we meet with
a farmer who is a lover and a student of nature, though we might not
warrant that he is a more successful practitioner than others, we are
sure that he is satisfied with his occupation. Many young men
become reconciled to the confinement of a counting-room in the city,
because it brings them in contact with the city's amusements. In
like manner, those who are fond of the study of nature will love the
exercises of the farm, which is a part of nature's domain.

It ought also to be expected that every practical farmer should
understand the habits of the principal insect pests of his fields and
orchards. _ A great amount of useful knowledge of this kind is fre-
quently picked up by ingenious men, who have no acquaintance with
the science of entomology. But had these persons been early
instructed in the grammar of this science, their observations would
have been conducted with method, and with much less effort they
would have obtained more valuable knowledge of the habits of
insects. ^ As we have already intimated, one important method of
instructing young men in the elements of these sciences, is to intro-
duce thein into the district schools. Let there be a higher class to
receive instruction in the grammar of each of the branches above
enumerated.

It is only through the district schools that the generality of the
rural population can be reached, during the period of youth, and the

24

addition of these exercises would but slightly increase the expense of
the schools. If a higher grade of qualifications was consequently
required of the teachers, those only would be excluded who, under
present circumstances, are unqualified for their task. Should lectures
be established, according to the suggestion of an able writer* on this
subject, they might be connected with recitations at the district schools ;
and in some cases the teacher might be employed to lecture. Lec-
turing, however, is so expensive, that it would be difficult to make it
sufficiently general, to convey instruction to the great mass of the
farming population.

The tract system would seem to be admirably adapted to diffuse
information on all scientific subjects. In connection with this it might
be advisable to make offijrs of prizes to a certain number of individ-
uals who should pass the best examination in the several departments
of agricultural science and experience. Let ten prizes of equal
amount, for example, be offered annually by each County Agricultu-
ral Society, to the ten individuals, members of a farmer's family, who
will give the fullest, most correct and most intelligent answers to a
series of questions to be proposed by the Society. The questions
might be published as one of the series of tracts, to be followed, after
the examination, by another containing the answers.

It is not probable that there would be a perplexing number of com-
petitors for the prizes ; the more, however, the better for the spread
of information. Many young people of both sexes would be stimu-
lated by these offers to make some progress in knowledge. Among
farmers, as among other classes, there are some whose ignorance pro-
ceeds from a want of natural capacity. These must always remain
mere drudges ; they cannot be observers and thinkers. But the
majority are ignorant not from a Avant of ability, but because their
desire for knowledge has never been awakened. Such are the indi-
viduals upon whose minds, the offer of prizes of this kind would act
in a favorable manner. The few, however, who are stimulated to
engage in the studies and contend for the prizes, are not the only
ones who would receive the benefit of them. Many a young man who
jocosely ridicules his comrade, for collecting flowers and minerals, or
chasing bugs, would assist him in his explorations, and become the
recipient of important knowledge.

Year after year similar offers might be made — for the best exam-
inations respecting the names, the cultivation, and the comparative
value of the different grasses ; concerning the relations of chemistry
and agriculture, the character of certain soils, rocks, fertilizers and
other substances found in the earth ; also, on the identity and habits
of certain prominent insects which are injurious to the farm and the
garden. By such methods young people are assisted in educating
themselves ; and it is on self-education, stimulated by the efforts of
those who are watchful of the public welfare, that the chief reliance
must be placed. They are induced to study by the excitement of
their curiosity, consequent upon reading the questions proposed in the
tract or the newspaper, and accompanying the offer of the prizes. Many

* Hon. George Boutwell.

25

a happy family-circle, during a leisure evening by the fireside, or
while resting from their labors in the day, would employ themselves
in asking these questions of each other, and puzzling out the answers.

But we must ever keep in mind, in our attempts to improve the
farmer's education, that the main point is his practical proficiency.
AH other kinds of instruction must have a direct bearing towards this
— the polar star of his educational course, — and every aid he receives
in his progress must take this direction, filling his mind without di-
verting it from its destination. All the tracts, therefore, on scientific
subjects, must be eminently practical in their bearing ; neither abstruse
nor hypothetical. They must enlighten without confusing his mind,
not pei'plexing it with notions, but establishing facts, whose relation
to agriculture is pei'fectly clear. In the offer of prizes, the practical
department should receive full attention ; for any person would become
more proficient in his art by acquiring a habit of assigning reasons for
his practice.

Prizes of this character would serve also to elevate the business of
farming in the opinions of men, by implying an acknowledgement,
that intellect is required for the occupation. This is not implied in
the award of premiums for agricultural essays ; for these are seldom
written by farmers ; and however expedient the offer, and however
useful the essay, the farming community are often chagrined at seeing
prizes of this kind carried off by one who, they well know, cannot
equal themselves, in the knowledge of practical agriculture. Premi-
ums should, therefore, be awarded, for intellectual exei'cises, in which
fai'mers and the children of farmers should be the only competitors,
and under such circumstances as would prevent the pei'sonal diffidence
of the candidates from standing in the way of their success.

It may be objected to the offer of prizes for examinations in certain
branches of knowledge, that some individuals Avould obtain the pre-
mium, who are excelled in industry by others who could not so readily
explain the reasons for what they do, and that it would be better to
give prizes only to industry. It may be remarked, however, in an-
swer to this objection, that among qualities which are equally impor-
tant, we should hold out the most encouragement to those which are
the least common. Among our people, insufficient knowledge is more
common than indolence ; and it is not their industry that requires a
spur, which is needful rather to their rational curiosity and intelligent
observation. The intellectual habits of our countrymen are greatly
injured by their propensity to devote all their attention and observa-
tion to the ax'ts of trading and bargaining. Hence, they are " sharp,"
industrious and active, rather than intelligent. Those virtues and those
habits require the most encouragement which do not grow up sponta-
neously. It should be added that our societies have always encouraged
the useful virtue of industry by the award of premiums for lat luii-
mals, good crops and well-tilled fields. They should now stimulate
industrious men to cultivate habits of intelligent observation, to learn
to state the reasons for their practice, and to express their ideas with
ease and perspicuity.

All vapid eulogies on the noble character of the farmer's occupation
amount to nothing ; they are but so many idle words that do not serve

5-^

f

26

in the least to increase its respectability. This end can be attained
only by elevating the rural classes as intelligent beings. A farmer's
business is no reproach to him in this country ; no man, whatever
may be his social position, is unwilling, if he be the son of a farmer,
to make known his pedigree. But the time has not yet arrived, when
it is regarded as a positive honor to be a farmer ; and it will not
arrive, until the farmers rise above the present standard of educa-
tion. Agriculture, as all will admit, is a noble art ; but the practice
of it can be honorable only to those who are thoroughly acquainted
with it, and who are intelligent citizens as well as successful farmers.

t

w

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