of valuable woodlands is not farming but an effort in the lumber busi- 

 ness. Let's call things by their right names. 



In some transient hour of despondency, when life's labors seem not 

 to have been blest with all the triumphs rhetorically supposed to attach 

 themselves to the " ennobling art of agriculture," men have called 

 out, — " Does it pay to be a farmer?" and the gentler sex have tearfully 

 asked, " Does it pay to be a farmer's wife ? " and the Secretary of the 

 Board of Agriculture, in this State, substantially answers, no. Farmers 

 do not get enough for their productions. 



And now I shall have something to say with regard to the 

 first question, " Does it pay to be a farmer ? " and my remarks 

 might be arranged, perhaps, under the general subject of 

 Some of the Defects of New England Agriculture ; in the 

 course of which, if any one is inclined to the opinion that it 

 does not pay, 1 think I shall be able to show the reason why, 

 and perhaps to suggest a remedy. 



And here let me begin by saying that we, as a body of 

 farmers, are too scattering or diffusive in our labor ; that is, 

 we aim at doing too many things, and spread our energies over 

 too much ground, instead of concentrating our thoughts, our 

 skill, and our means upon some special line of effort, some 

 particular crop, or some leading branch of farming. 



Go round through our quiet and beautiful rural districts 

 and study the character and inclinations of the farming pop- 

 ulation, and you will find that, in a vast number of instances, 

 the man, the farmer, wants to own the next farm. There is 

 a hankering for more land, rather than a desire to cultivate 

 the home farm ivelly and to bring it to the highest degree of 

 productiveness. Perhaps we come naturally by this character- 

 istic, for you know that our fathers were a bold, pushing and 

 adventurous race of men, — the choice spirits from all parts of 

 Europe — and you recollect that Walter Scott says of a Scotch- 

 man, that the moment he gets his head above water he aims 

 for land. 



But this, although I regard it as, in some respects, an 

 unfortunate trait of the New England character, is not exactly 

 the fault to which I refer. You will find, generally, that the 

 farmer makes his calculations to do a little of everything 

 instead of making a specialty of anything. He will have a 



