PROF. C. U. SHEPHARD'S ADDRESS. 255 



thoughts, poured forth, from half-comatose brains, upon audien- 

 ces panting quite as much for wholesome air as for a holier life. 



Few persons are conscious of the extent to which philosophi- 

 cal principles are involved in the sphere of the farmer's labors, 

 or of the importance of their being understood, to the minutest 

 detail. The stable-yard enclosure is, properly speaking, the 

 farmer's bank. Now is he, think you, a good money-banker, 

 who never troubles himself about the fluctuations of trade, or 

 the theory of discounts and exchanges; who knows not the 

 value of different currencies; who takes without discrimination 

 whatever is offered, and pays out whatever is called for; and, 

 above all, who never locks his doors or his money-chest ? Just 

 so injudicious is the farmer who comprehends not the theory of 

 organic fermentation, and who is ignorant of the composition 

 and value of the nameless matters that accumulate in the stable- 

 yard, and who leaves all exposed to the winds, the rains, and 

 the sunshine, of heaven. 



One of the simplest, but yet one of the most universal of all 

 the properties of matter, is its regular expansion for every addi- 

 tion of heat ; so that the scientifically trained person never 

 looks to see matter around him preserving uniform dimensions, 

 any more than to see the mercury in the thermometer stationa- 

 ry. All bodies are perpetually enlarging and contracting, as 

 they acquire or lose even the slightest degrees of warmth. 

 Were but this very common principle better apprehended, many 

 are the structures of masonry that would now be standing all 

 the stronger, without the rods of iron with which their builders 

 vainly attempted to strengthen them. And many a valuable 

 horse would go free of pain and the fault of lameness from hav- 

 ing had a shoe nailed to his foot before it had cooled down to 

 the temperature of the hoof. A gentleman of my acquaintance 

 was lately placed in a most awkward dilemma, from the igno- 

 rance of the blacksmith, who set up a piece of iron paling in 

 front of his house, without making any allowance for the expan- 

 sion and contraction of the material under ordinary changes of 

 temperature. The consequence was, that while the central gate, 

 in front of his door, would open and close with facility in cool 

 weather, it was as immovable, in hot, as the fence to which it 



