I 
 
r NO. 2. 1 
 Lnew SEREES.J 
 
 ^ 
 
 ON' 
 
 HORSESHOEING. 
 
 BY 
 
 wj:lliam miles, 
 
 ■^^ ^xj 
 
 ^ 
 
 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 
 
10 
 
 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 
 
I 
 
I