I hold our average Common Schools defective, in that they fail to teach

Geology and Chemistry, which in my view are the natural bases of a

sound, practical knowledge of things--knowledge which the farmer, of all

men, can least afford to miss. However it may be with others, he vitally

needs to understand the character and constitution of the soil he must

cultivate, the elements of which it is composed, and the laws which

govern their relations to each other. Instruct him in the higher

mathematics if you will, in logic, in meteorology, in ever so many

languages; but not till he shall have been thoroughly grounded in the

sciences which unlock for him the arcana of Nature; for these are

intimately related to all he must do, and devise, and direct, throughout

the whole course of his active career. Whatever he may learn or dispense

with, a knowledge of these sciences is among the most urgent of his

life-long needs.

Hence, I would suggest that a simple, lucid, lively, accurate digest of

the leading principles and facts in Geology and Chemistry, and their

application to the practical management of a farm, ought to constitute

the Reader of the highest class in every Common School, especially in

rural districts. Leave out details and recipes, with directions when to

plant or sow, etc.; for these must vary with climates, circumstances,

and the progress of knowledge; but let the body and bones, so to speak,

of a primary agricultural education be taught in every school, in such

terms and with such clearness as to commend them to the understanding of

every pupil. I never yet visited a school in which something was not

taught which might be omitted or postponed in favor of this.

Out of school and after school, let the young farmer delight in the

literature illustrative of his calling--I mean the very best of it. Let

him have few agricultural books; but let these treat of principles and

laws rather than of methods and applications. Let him learn from these

how to ascertain by experiment what are the actual and pressing needs of

his soil, and he will readily determine by reflection and inquiry how

those needs may be most readily and cheaply satisfied.

All the books in the world never of themselves made one good farmer;

but, on the other hand, no man in this age can be a thoroughly good

farmer without the knowledge which is more easily and rapidly acquired

from books than otherwise. Books are no substitute for open-eyed

observation and practical experience; but they enable one familiar with

their contents to observe with an accuracy, and experiment with an

intelligence, that are unattainable without them. The very farmer who

tells you that he never opened a book which treats of Agriculture, and

never wants to see one, will ask his neighbor how to grow or cure

tobacco, or hops, or sorgho, or any crop with which he is yet

unacquainted, when the chances are a hundred to one that this particular

neighbor cannot advise him so well as the volume which embodies the

experience of a thousand cultivators of this very plant instead of

barely one. A good book treating practically of Agriculture, or of some

department therein, is simply a compendium of the experience of past

ages combined with such knowledge as the present generation have been

enabled to add thereto. It may be faulty or defective on some points; it

is not to be blindly confided in, nor slavishly followed--it is to be

mastered, discussed, criticised, and followed so far as its teachings

coincide with the dictates of science, experience, and common sense. Its

true office is suggestion; the good farmer will lean upon and trust it

as an oracle only where his own proper knowledge proves entirely

deficient.

By-and-by, it will be generally realized that few men live or have lived

who cannot find scope and profitable employment for all their intellect

on a two-hundred-acre farm. And then the farmer will select the

brightest of his sons to follow him in the management and cultivation of

the paternal acres, leaving those of inferior ability to seek fortune in

pursuits for which a limited and special capacity will serve, if not

suffice. And then we shall have an Agriculture worthy of our country and

the age.

Meantime, let us make the most of what we have, by diffusing, studying,

discussing, criticizing, Liebig's Agricultural Chemistry, Dana's Muck

Manual, Waring's Elements, and the books that each treat more especially

of some department of the farmer's art, and so making ourselves

familiar, first, with the principles, then with the methods, of

scientific, efficient, successful husbandry. Let us, who love it, treat

Agriculture as the elevated, ennobling pursuit it might and should be,

and thus exalt it in the estimation of the entire community.

We may, at all events, be sure of this: Just so fast and so far as

farming is rendered an intellectual pursuit, it will attract and retain

the strongest minds, the best abilities, of the human race. It has been

widely shunned and escaped from, mainly because it has seemed a calling

in which only inferior capacities were required or would be rewarded.

Let this error give place to the truth, and Agriculture will win

votaries from among the brightest intellects of the race.

XXXIV.

SHEEP AND WOOL-GROWING.

Ours is eminently an agricultural country. We produce most of our Food,

and export much more than we import of both Grain and Meat. Of Cotton,

we grow some Three Millions of bales annually, whereof we export fully

two-thirds. But of this we reimport a portion in the shape of Fabrics

and of Thread; and yet, while we are largely clothed in Woolens, and

extensive sections of our country are admirably adapted to the rearing

of Sheep and the production of Wool, we not only import a considerable

share of the Woolens in which we are clad, but we also import a

considerable proportion of the Wool wherefrom we manufacture the Woolens

fabricated on our own soil. In other words: while we are a nation of

farmers and herdsmen, we fail to grow so much Wool as is needed to

shield us against the caprices and inclemencies of our diverse but

generally fitful climates.

There is a seeming excuse for this in the fact that extensive regions in

South America and Australia, are devoted to Sheep-growing where animals

are neither housed nor herded, and where they are exclusively fed, at

all seasons, on those native grasses which are the spontaneous products

of the soil. I presume Wool is in those regions produced cheaper than it

can permanently be on any considerable area of our own soil; and yet I

believe that the United States should, and profitably might, grow as

much Wool as is needed for their own large annual consumption. Here are

my reasons:

I. When the predominant interest of British Manufactures constrained the

entire repeal of the duties on imported Wool, whereby Sheep-growing had

previously been protected, the farmers apprehended that they must

abandon that department of their industry; but the event proved this

calculation a mistake. They grow more Sheep and at better profit to-day

than they did when their Wool brought a higher price under the influence

of Protective duties, because the largely increased price of their

Mutton more than makes up to them their loss by the reduced prices of

their Wool. So, while I do not expect that American Wool will ever again

command such high prices as it has done at some periods in the past, I

am confident that the general appreciation in the prices of Meat, which

has occurred within the last ten or fifteen years, and which seems

likely to be enduring, will render Sheep-growing more profitable in the

future than it has been in the past. At all events, while our farmers

are generally obliged to sell their Grain and Meat at prices somewhat

below the range of the British markets, it is hardly conceivable that

they should not afford to grow Wool, for which they receive higher

average prices than the British farmers do, who feed their Sheep on the

produce of lands worth from $300 to $500 (gold) per acre.

II. Interest being relatively high in this country, and Capital with

most farmers deficient, it is a serious objection to cattle-growing that

the farmer must wait three or four years before receiving a return for

his outlay. If he begins poor, with but a few cows and a team, he

naturally wants to rear and keep all his calves for several years in

order to adequately stock his farm, so that little or no income is

meantime realized from his herd; whereas a flock of Sheep yields a

fleece per head each year, though not even a lamb is sold, while its

increase in numbers is far more rapid than that of a herd of cattle.

III. Almost every farmer, at least in the old States, finds some part of

his land infested with bushes and briers, which seem to flourish by

cutting, if he finds time to cut them, and which the ruggedness of his

soil precludes his exterminating by the plow. In every such case, Sheep

are his natural allies--his unpaid police--his vigilant and

thorough-going assistants. Give them an even start in Spring with the

bushes and briers; let their number be sufficient; and they are very

sure to come out ahead in the Fall.

IV. Our farmers in the average are too much confined in Summer and

Autumn to salt meats, and especially to Pork. However excellent in

quality these may be, their exclusive use is neither healthful nor

palatable. With a good flock of Sheep, the most secluded farmer may have

fresh meat every week in haying and harvest-time if he chooses; and he

will find this better for his family, and more satisfactory to his

workmen, than a diet wherefrom fresh meat is excluded.

V. Now, I do not insist that every farmer should grow Sheep, for I know

that many are so situated that they cannot. In stony regions, where

walls are very generally relied on for fences, I am aware that Sheep are

with difficulty kept within bounds; and this is a serious objection. In

the neighborhood of cities and large villages, where Fresh Meat may be

bought from day to day, one valid reason for keeping them has no

application; yet I hold that twice as many of our farmers as now have

flocks ought to have them, and would thereby increase their profits as

well as the comfort of their families.

The most serious obstacle to Sheep husbandry in this country is the

abundance and depredations of dogs. Farmers by tens of thousands have

sold off, or killed off, their flocks, mainly because they could not

otherwise protect themselves against their frequent decimation by

prowling curs, which were not worth the powder required to shoot them.

It seems to me that a farmer thus despoiled is perfectly justifiable in

placing poisoned food where these cut-throats will be apt to find it

while making their next raid on his Sheep. I should have no scruple in

so doing, provided I could guard effectually against the poisoning of

any other than the culprits.

In a well-settled, thrifty region, where ample barns are provided, I

judge that the losses of Sheep by dogs may be reduced to a minimum by

proper precautions. Elsewhere than in wild, new frontier settlements,

every flock of Sheep should have a place of refuge beneath the hay-floor

of a good barn, and be trained to spend every night there, as well as to

seek this shelter against every pelting storm. Even if sent some

distance to pasture, an unbarred lane should connect such pasture with

their fold; and they should be driven home for a few nights, if

necessary, until they had acquired the habit of coming home at

nightfall; and I am assured that Sheep thus lodged will very rarely be

attacked by dogs or wolves.

As yet, our farmers have not generally realized that enhancement of the

value of Mutton, whereby their British rivals have profited so largely.

Their fathers began to breed Sheep when a fleece sold for much more than

a carcase, and when fineness and abundance of Wool were the main

consideration. But such is no longer the fact, at least in the Eastern

and Middle States. To-day, large and long-wooled Sheep of the Cotswold

and similar breeds are grown with far greater profit in this section

than the fine-wooled Merino and Saxony, except where choice specimens of

the latter can be sold at high prices for removal to Texas and the Far

West. The growing of these high-priced animals must necessarily be

confined to few hands. The average farmer cannot expect to sell bucks at

$1,000, and even at $5,000, as some have been sold, or at least

reported. He must calculate that his Sheep are to be sold, when sold at

all, at prices ranging from $10 down to $5, if not lower, so that

mechanics and merchants may buy and eat them without absolute ruin; and

he must realize that 100 pounds of Mutton at 10 cents, with 6 pounds of

Wool at 30 cents, amount to more than 60 pounds of Mutton at 8 cents,

and 10 pounds of Wool at 60 cents. Farmers who grow Sheep for Mutton in

this vicinity, and manage to have lambs of good size for sale in June or

July, assure me that their profit on these is greater than on almost

anything else their farms will produce; and they say what they know.

The satisfactory experience of this class may be repeated to-day in the

neighborhood of any considerable city in the Union. Sheep-growing is no

experiment; it is an assured and gratifying success with all who

understand and are fitly placed for its prosecution. Wool may never

again be so high as we have known it, since the Far West and Texas can

grow it very cheaply, while its transportation costs less than five per

cent. of its value, where that of Grain would be 75 per cent.; but

Mutton is a wholesome and generally acceptable meat, whereof the use and

popularity, are daily increasing; so that its market value will

doubtless be greater in the future than it has been in the past. I would

gladly incite the farmers of our country to comprehend this fact, and

act so as to profit by it.

But the new region opened to Sheep-growing by the pioneers of Colorado,

and other Territories, is destined to play a great part in the

satisfaction of our need of Wool. The elevated Plains and Valleys which

enfold and embrace the Rocky Mountains are exceedingly favorable to the

cheap production of Wool. Their pure, dry, bracing atmosphere; the

rarity of their drenching storms; the fact that their soil is seldom or

never sodden with water; and the excellence of their short, thin

grasses, even in Winter, render them admirably adapted to the wants of

the shepherd and his flocks. I do not believe in the wisdom or humanity,

while I admit the possibility, of keeping Sheep without cured fodder on

the Plains or elsewhere; on the contrary, I would have ample and

effective shelter against cold and wet provided for every flock, with

Hay, or Grain, or Roots, or somewhat of each of them, for at least two

months of each year; but, even thus, I judge that fine Wool can be grown

in Colorado or Wyoming far cheaper than in New England or even

Minnesota, and of better quality than in Texas or South America. And I

am grievously mistaken if Sheep husbandry is not about to be developed

on the Plains with a rapidity and success which have no American

precedent.

XXXV.

ACCOUNTS IN FARMING.

Farmers, it is urged, sometimes fail; and this is unfortunately true of

them, as of all others. Some fail in integrity; others in sobriety; many

in capacity; most in diligence; but not a few in method or system. Quite

a number fail because they undertake too much at the outset; that is,

they run into debt for more land than they have capital to stock or

means to fertilize, and are forced into bankruptcy by the interest

ever-accruing upon land which they are unable to cultivate. If they

should get ahead a little by active exertion throughout the day, the

interest would overtake and pass them during the ensuing night.

Few of the unsuccessful realize the extent to which their ill fortune is

fairly attributable to their own waste of time. Men not naturally lazy

squander hours weekly in the village, or at the railroad station,

without a suspicion that they are thus destroying their chances of

success in life. To-day is given up to a monkey-show; half of to-morrow

is lost in attendance on an auction; part of next day is spent at a

caucus or a jury trial; and so on until one-third of the year is

virtually wasted.

Now, the men who have achieved eminent success, within my observation,

have all been rigid economists of time. They managed to transact their

business at the county-seat while serving there as grand or petit

jurors, or detained under subpoena as witnesses; they never attended

an auction unless they really needed something which was there to be

sold, and then they began their day's work earlier and ended it later in

order to redeem the time which they borrowed for the sale. I do not

believe that any American farmer who could count up three hundred full

days' work in every year between his twenty-first and his thirtieth ever

yet failed, except as a result of speculation, or endorsing, or

inordinate running into debt.

I would, therefore, urge every farmer to keep a rigid account current of

the disposal of his time, so as to be able to see at the year's end

exactly how many days thereof he had given to productive labor; how many

to such abiding improvements as fencing and draining; and how many to

objects which neither increased his crop nor improved his farm. I am

sure many would be amazed at the extent of this last category.

If every youth who expects to live by farming would buy a cheap

pocket-book or wallet which contains a diary wherein a page is allotted

to each day of the year, and would, at the close of that day, or at

least while its incidents were still fresh in his mind, set down under

its proper head whatever incidents were most noteworthy--as, for

instance, a soaking rain; a light or heavy shower; a slight or killing

frost; a fall of snow; a hurricane; a hail-storm; a gale; a decidedly

hot or notably cold temperature; the turning out of cattle to pasture or

sheltering them against the severity of Winter; also the planting or

sowing of each crop or field, and whether harm was done to it by frost

in its infancy or when it approached maturity--he would thus provide

himself with annual volumes of fact which would prove instructive and

valuable throughout his maturer years.

The good farmer will of course keep accounts with such of his neighbors

as he sees fit to deal with; and he ought to charge a lent or credit a

borrowed plow, harrow, reaper, log-chain, or other implement, precisely

as though it were meal or meat of an equal value. I judge that borrowed

implements, if regularly charged at cost, and credited at their actual

value when returned, would generally come home sooner and in better

condition.

But the farmer, like every one else, should be most careful to keep debt

and credit with himself and his farm. If a dollar is spent or lent, his

books should show it; and let items and sum total stare him in the face

when he strikes a balance at the close of the year. If there has been no

leakage either of dimes or of hours, he will seldom be poorer on the

31st of December than he was on the 1st of the preceding January.

Most farmers fail to keep accounts with their several fields and crops;

yet what could be more instructive than these? Here are ten acres of

Corn, with a yield of 20 to 40 bushels per acre--a like area and like

yield of Oats; a smaller or larger of Rye, Buckwheat, or Beans, as the

case may be. If the produce is sold, most farmers know how much it

brings; but how many know how much it cost? Say the Corn brings 75 cents

per bushel, and the Oats 50 cents: was either or both produced at a

profit? If so, at what profit? Here is a farmer who has grown from 100

to 800 bushels of Corn per annum for the last 20 years; ought he not to

know by this time what Corn costs him in the average, and whether it

could or could not with profit give place to something else? Most

farmers grow some crops at a profit, others at a loss; ought they not to

know, after an experience of five or ten years, what crops have put

money into their pockets, and what have made them poorer for the

growing?

Of course, there is complication and some degree of uncertainty in all

such account-keeping; for every one is aware that some crops take more

from the soil than others, and so leave it in a worse condition for

those that are to follow, and that some exact large reenforcements of

fertilizers, whereof a part only is fairly chargeable to the first

ensuing product, while a large share inures to the subsequent harvests.

Each must judge for himself how much is to be credited for such

improvement, and how much charged against other crops for

deterioration. He, for example, whose meadows will cut from two to three

tuns per acre of good English Hay may generally sell that Hay for twice

if not thrice the immediate cost of its production, and so seem to be

realizing a large profit; but, if he gives nothing to the soil in return

for the heavy draft thus made upon it, his crop will dwindle year by

year, until it will hardly pay for cutting; and the diminution in value

of his meadows will nearly or quite balance the seeming profit accruing

from his Hay. But account-keeping in every business involves essentially

identical calculations; and the merchant who this year makes no net

profit on his goods, but doubles the number of his customers and the

extent of his trade, has thriven precisely as has the farmer whose

profit on his crops has all been invested in drains permeating his bogs,

and in Lime, Plaster, and other fertilizers, applied to and permanently

enriching his dryer fields.

"To make each day a critic on the last," was the aspiration of a wise

man, if not a great poet. So the farmer who will keep careful and candid

accounts With himself, annually correcting his estimates by the light of

experience, will soon learn what crops he may reasonably expect to grow

at a profit, and to reject such as are likely to involve him in loss;

and he who, having done this, shall blend common sense with industry,

will have no reason to complain thereafter that there is no profit in

farming, and no chance of achieving wealth by pursuing it.

XXXVI.

STONE ON A FARM.

This earth, geologists say, was once an immense expanse of heated vapor,

which, gradually cooling at its surface, as it whirled and sped through

space, contracted and formed a crust, which we know as Rock or Stone.

This crust has since been broken through, and tilted up into ranges of

mountains and hills, by the action of internal fires, by the

transmutation of solid bodies into more expansive gases; and the

fragments torn away from the sharper edges of upheaved masses of

granite, quartz, or sandstone, having been frozen into iceberg,

floating, or soon to be so, have been carried all over the surface of

our planet, and dropped upon the greater part, as those icebergs were

ultimately resolved, by a milder temperature, into flowing water. When

the seas were afterward reduced nearly or quite to their present limits,

and the icebergs restricted to the frigid zones and their vicinity,

streams had to make their way down the sides of the mountains and hills

to the subjacent valleys and plains, sweeping along not merely sand and

gravel, but bowlders also, of every size and form, and sometimes great

rocks as well, by the force of their impetuous currents. And, as a very

large, if not the larger portion of our earth's surface bears testimony

to the existence and powerful action through ages, of larger and smaller

water-courses, a wide and general diffusion of stones, not in place, but

more or less triturated, smoothed, and rounded, by the action of water,

was among the inevitable results.

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