LECTURES AND ESSAYS READ AT FARMERS' 



INSTITUTES. 



MANUKES FOE THE FAKM. 



BY E. C. KEDZIE. 



[An Essay read at the Farmers' Institute at Berrien Centre, January 15, 1884, and at Grand Eapids, 



January 29, 1884.] 



Manure is not a mere incident of farming. It is not simply an accumula- 

 tion of filthy materials to be carried away somewhere and disposed of some- 

 how. It is, on the other hand, a fact of first importance, and when we 

 attempt to compute its value, the result is surprising. Take this estimate of 

 the most highly developed agricultural nation on the earth. Sec. Russell, 

 of Massachusetts, in a recent Agricultural Convention in Lowell, made the 

 following statement: ''Much has been said of the extent of the commerce of 

 England, with its flags dotting every sea, but the entire value of all her ship- 

 ping is not equal to the value of the manure applied to her land in any single 

 year." 



An adequate supply of manure is a prime factor in successful agriculture — 

 the dung-heap is the pivot of high farming. I am not here to urge the farm- 

 ers of Kent county to use manure, to save manure, or to avail themselves of 

 any convenient supply of manure. The intelligence of this audience forbids 

 such a discussion. But the conditions of farming in this region have greatly 

 changed in consequence of the advance in the price of lands, the price of farm 

 lands in Kent county having increased ten-fold within fifty years. This 

 increase in market value necessitates a corresponding increase of rental value, 

 and this rent, in addition to the cost of production, must be subtracted from 

 the cash receipts before the question of profit can be considered. When we 

 add to this the fact that the productive capacity of the land has fallen off in 

 consequence of continuous cropping, we see that what was successful farming 

 thirty years ago would lead to bankruptcy to-day. The price of land and the 

 rental value are now so great that we can no longer afford to follow the easy 

 slip-shod farming of our early history, when a moderate crop gave satisfactory 

 returns for the small labor bestowed, the rental value being of no account. 

 Our agriculture must take on a more intensive character, and we must have 

 large crops or no profits. Small crops don't pay. 



A farmer was asked to contribute to a benevolent enterprise, but excused 

 himself on the ground that his wheat crop that year was below the average — 

 not more than ten or twelve bushels to the acre. "What do you call an 

 average crop?" "Twenty to twenty-five." "How often do you have an 



