THE FARMER'S MAGAZINE. 



171 



quite true that the ingeuuity of mechanics has of late years 

 introduced a great number of machiues, which, to some extent, 

 are substitutes for the work of the liauds ; but a farmer ought 

 to kuow that the use of these machines is not to supersede the 

 employment of labour, but to enable him to divert labour from 

 those processes to which machinery is applicable, and to em- 

 ploy it profitably in other occupations. A great improvement 

 has been made iu the intelligence of the labouring classes. 

 Some of us are old enough to remember the time when thrash- 

 ing machines were held in hatred by the labourer — when all 

 sorts of improvements in machinery were thought to be the 

 means for taking bread out of the mouths of the labourer ; 

 but they are now wise enough to know that those processes 

 aud machines, instead of superseding labour, are simply au 

 addition to labour. We all kuow the story of the farmer, who, 

 on his death-bed, told his two sons that he had a great trea- 

 sure buried in a certain field, and that if tieyonly dug over it 

 tbey would find it. The sons did dig for it. Money they 

 found not, but money's-worth they did find; aud the increased 

 produce of the field by the application of manual labour repaid 

 them amply for their* exertions. That story is applicable to 

 all farming occupations. I am sure that I am now addressing 

 au enlightened audience — most of you practical farmers — who 

 must have discovered that it is no economy to spare labour on 

 their farms — that the more labour tbey are enabled to employ, 

 the more advantsge they will derive from the crops ; but that 

 the labour cannot be useful unless the labourer is well looked 

 to, well housed, well fed, and well cared for. When the em- 

 ployers of labour bestow proper attention upon their labourers, 

 they engender a feeling of reciprocal regard ; and it is in 

 human nature that a man will work better for an employer he 

 loves, and who treats him well, than for a man who is nig- 

 gardly and churlish, who just pays him as much as will keep 

 body and soul together, and neglects him in other respects, 



Mr. Henderson proposed "The health of the Chair- 

 man," and alluded to the efforts the noble lord had already 

 made to improve the condition of his tenantry and labourers. 



Lord Palmerston said: I would just briefly advert to 

 one topic which has been alluded to this afternoon — I mean 

 the lodging of the labouring classes. Now it is quite true 

 that Mr. Duttou aud myself have built some very good double 

 cottages for the labourers on oui own respective properties ; 

 but I have heard it said by many that it is all very well for us 

 to do that, but that these buildings are altogether too ex- 

 pensive, that they do not pay, and that other people could 

 not afford to erect them. Now, in the first place, I hold that 

 observatiou to be founded on a fundamental error. When I 

 build a cottage for a labourer on a farm I do not expect it to 

 pay in money. When I build a good farm house for a tenant 

 I do not expect rent for that bouse separate from the farm. 

 Well, the cottage for the labourer ought to be looked upon as 

 a part of the appurtenances of a farm, just as much as the 

 buildings for cattle, or any of those other erections essential 

 to the cultivation of the land. How can the land be well 

 cultivated it the labourers are not well housed ? If they are 

 obliged to trudge three or four miles in order to get at their 

 work, and the same distance home again, it is manifest that 

 they mvBt be not only exhausted physically, but that their 

 time must be wasted in walking to aud from their work, and 

 that the farmer does not get from them their money's worth 

 for the wages he pays. Therefore I consider that in providing 

 a farm with accommodation for the number of labourers to be 

 employed on it, you are giving facilities to the tenant to cul- 

 tivate his farm, and increasing the value of the farm which you 

 let to a good tenant. If you get a shilling a week from the 

 labourer, ic is more to impress upon his mind that he is 

 earning the accommodation you give him, rather than from 

 auy idea that he is to repay the expense of the erection. It 

 ii not like building houses in a towu, which are built to be let 

 at a profitable investment, but it is an addition to the value ol 

 the farm ; aud depend upon it, a good tenant will give you 

 more rent for a farm which he can cultivate to advantage. 

 Then as to the expense of these cottages. Now, the cottages 

 which Mr. Button and myself have built contain really no 

 more accommodation than a decent family ought to have. 

 They have simply one room to live in, a back kitchen, and, 

 what is of the utmost importance, three sleeping places. No 

 cottage ought to be without three sleeping-places — one for 

 the man and his wife, another for the girls, and another 

 for the boys. It is not necessary to pull down old cottages 



to build new ones. A great deal can be done at a moderate 

 expense in improving old ones. All you require is to put a 

 little porch iu front of the door, which costs little ; to give 

 them a boarded floor instead of bricks ; to make the walls air- 

 tight and the roof water-tight ; to give three sleeping-rooms ; 

 aud to put up a sort of shealing at the back, with a little place 

 below for a wood-house. It is quite a mistake to suppose, 

 then, that nothing real and essential can be done in improving 

 the dwellings of the labouring classes short of pulling down 

 the old ones by erecting new ones. The effect of improving 

 these dwellings is almost marvellous. In the first place you 

 know that the comfort of a man's house depends upon the 

 tidiness of his wife, and the mode in which she tries to make 

 him comfortable ; but there is a temper of the human mind 

 which is denominated recklessness. When a thing seems im- 

 possible it is given up in despair. When a cottage is in such 

 a ramshackle state that it is impossible for the wiife to keep it 

 clean, she becomes a slattern, everything goes to ruin, the 

 man is disgusted, and flies to the beer-shop. If, on the con- 

 trary, the wife feels that she can, by a little exertion, make 

 the cottage decent and respectable, she does so ; and then the 

 man enjoys the comfort and happiness of his home, stays away 

 from the beer- shop, aud the sum of money he would spend iu 

 liquor goes to the benefit of his wife and children. I had au 

 example of that in a double cottage of my own. It was in a 

 dreadful state. The walls were not air-tight, it had a brick 

 floor, a bad roof, and everything uncomfortable. The people 

 who occupied it were slovens aud slatterns, and quarrelsome 

 ill-neighbours. At a small expense it was made tidy; boarded 

 floors were put down, a little porch erected, with a wood- 

 house and other conveniences, and from that moment these 

 people altered entirely their character, altered entirely their 

 conduct, became well-conditioned people and good neighbours, 

 which they had never been before. Therefore, I entreat every- 

 body not to run away with the notion that nothing can be 

 done to improve the dwellings of the poor short of building 

 cottages which they may think too expensive for their means. 

 Depend upon it that a very great deal can be done at a mode- 

 rate expense towards making old cottages decent and habi- 

 table. 



The lion. R. Button gave '' The health of Lady Palmer- 

 ston," which was cordially responded to. 



Lord Palmerston then proposed the last toast, " The 

 Press." 



The proceedings then terminated. 



THE LABOURER'S WELCOME HOME. 



The ploughman whistles o'er the furrow. 



The hedger joins the vacant strain, 

 The woodman sings the woodland thorough, 



The shepherd's pipe delights the plain : 

 Where'er the anxious eye can roam. 



Or ear receive the jocund pleasure. 

 Myriads of beings thronging flock, 



Of Nature's song to join the measure. 

 Till, to keep time, the village clock 

 Sounds sweet the lab'rer's welcome home. 



The hearth swept clean, his partner smiling, 



Upon the shining table smokes 

 The frugal meal : while time beguiling, 



The ale the harmless jest provokes. 

 Ye inmates of the lofty dome, 



Admire his lot— his children playing. 

 To share his smiles around him flock ; 



And faithful Trav, since morn, that straying 

 Trudged with tim, till the village clock 

 Proclaim'd the lab'rer's welcome home. 



The cheering fagot burnt to embers. 



While lares round their vigils keep, 

 That Pow'r that poor and rich remembers, 



Each thanks, and then retires to sleep ; 

 And now the lark climbs heaven's high dome, 



Fresh from repose, toil's kind reliever ; 

 And furnished with his daily stock — 



His dog, his staff, his keg, h'.s bever — 

 He travels till the village clock 

 Sounds sweet the lab'rer's welcome home. 



