270 MY FARM. 



We live in days when a calling whatever it may l&amp;gt;e 

 cannot find establishment of its value or worth, in 

 the echoes however resonant and grateful of what 

 lias once belonged to it, or of the dead voices that 

 honored it. The charms of Yirgil and the shrewd 

 observations of Cato will go but a little way to re 

 commend a country life in our time, except that li fe 

 have charms in itself to pique a man s poetic sensibil 

 ities and lessons in every field and season, to tempt 

 and reward his closest observation. 



Yet it is very remarkable how nearly these old 

 authorities have approached the best points of mod 

 ern practice ; and again and again we are startled out 

 of our vanities by the soundness of their suggestions 

 Rotation of crops, surface drainage, ridging of lands, 

 composting of manures, irrigation, and the paring 

 and burning of stubble-lands are all hinted, if not 

 absolutely advised, in treatises written ten centuries 

 ago. Nor have I a doubt but that a shrewd man 

 acting upon the best advices which are to be found 

 in the various books of the Geoponica (the latest 

 not later than the sixth century), and with no other 

 instructions whatever save what regards the dex 

 terous use of implements would manage a grain 

 field, a meadow, or an orchard, better than the half 

 of New England farmers. 



At first blush, it seems very discouraging to think 



