SOLON ROBINSON, 1850 343 



the most improved scientific methods of making and using 

 manure? Do they not still mow over five acres of ground 

 for a ton of hay? And are there not hundreds of just 

 such farms as the one I drew a picture of ? Then wherein 

 have I "done you injustice?" or made an "unwarranted 

 attack upon you?" 



You little knew me, if you supposed that I would make 

 such an attack upon any portion of my country. I in- 

 tended to tell my native state that she was asleep, and in 

 my flight over my native hills, I endeavored to stir her 

 up. Since writing that article, I have seen a whole county 

 aroused to attend an agricultural fair, in one of the rich- 

 est sections in the state. What aroused it? Was it to 

 make a great show of stock, improved implements, &c., 

 or to compete for premiums for the best systems of drain- 

 ing and cultivating the soil? Was it to witness a great 

 plowing match and trial of skill, and to determine which 

 was the best kind of plow? If so, it is wonderful that 

 there were but four plows — and one of them furnished by 

 the proprietor of the land, "just to help out." But there 

 was a great crowd attending the fair. What brought 

 them there ? Why, to see Gen. Tom Thumb ! ! It was not 

 the spirit of agricultural improvement. If that prevails 

 in Farmington, I am glad to hear it; it does not prevail 

 universally. The people of the state need arousing; and 

 could I succeed in awakening them, I should be willing to 

 be called a few hard names, while they were rubbing their 

 eyes ; but when they get them open, so as to see that I am 

 a son of the same soil, and only anxious for their best 

 interests, I hope they will no longer accuse me of doing 

 them injustice, or making an unwarranted attack upon 

 my own, my native land. 



Upon the place where I am writing, there are 700 ne- 

 groes, and two white men; and yet the state of culture 

 here, might shame many a Connecticut farmer. It is a 

 picture of order, neatness, comfort, and happiness. But 

 of this, and Connecticut farming, more anon. Your true 

 friend, Solon Robinson. 



South Carolina, Jan. 21th, 1850. 



