Vo. 2. 



AND GARDENER'S JOURNAL. 



iirl horticulture, far from being disdained, baVe been 

 I nil others, ibe cboeen pursuits, tbe purest delights 

 I ? ime of the most gifted intellects; and their en- 

 liasiosm in these pursuits burnt With increasing in- 

 •. r.Bity to the close of life. From the turmoils of war, 

 bL- struggles of political ambition, tbe barrassing pur- 

 'iita of ouccessfyl trade, tbe busiest scenes ot life, 

 r ni the forum, tbe senate, and the throne, they have 

 1 tired gladly to the humble occupation and pleasures 

 I rural life and labor, and have found the precious 

 f 111, which they had so long sought, only in ibis 

 olrii philosophy of nature. 



The country is the land of poetry, and tbe home of 

 je winged imagination, as much as it is the home of 

 ie birds. Tbe Charms of%he country are untion- 

 jjiouely acknowledged even in citie?, when you see 



•W they, who live in cities, love to get a grass plat, 

 ough not larger than a handkerchief, before their 

 oora; or train a woodbine or a honeysuckle to their 

 inEzas; or crowd their windows with flowers, or a- 

 Jrn their persons with a floral wreath. Tbe first of- 

 rings of tbe muses were dedicated to rural life. In 

 le waving of tbe golden harvest, in tbe verdant 

 wn spreading its smooth carpet beneath your feet, in 

 le prairie ocean of verdure radiant with the richest 



ms of floral beauty, in the deep and solemn forest, 



the mirrored lake reflecting in perfect disiinctness 

 e mingled beauties of forests and skies, in the flow- 

 g river an image of eternity, in the mountain lift- 

 g its crested top above the clolBs, in tbe boundless 

 irizon, in the reddening dawn, in the gorgeousness 



a summer's sunset, in tbe mingled splendors of the 

 tumnal forest, there is every thing to kindle the im- 

 ination and dilate the heart. When in the advan- 

 ig spring the man of reflecting mind and cultivated 

 ne, at break of day, witnesses the waking up of 

 istion. beholds tbe desolation of winter rapidly reti- 

 .^ ig before the empire of spring, and sees day alter 

 y, almost hour after hour, new forms of vegetable 

 d animal life starting into existence, it requires no 

 jlent eflbrt of the imagination to behold a new Eden 

 ing before him, and to hear the chorus of tbe morn- 

 ; stars, and " tbe sons of God shouUng for joy." 



43 



BE STMPATHT, JIOBE CHARITY, A HIGHER VALUE SET 

 UPON HD.VAN LIFE IN THE COU.NTRY THAN IN THE 

 CITY. 



In speaking of the moral aspects of agriculture, I 



ill make no invidious comparisons. The country 



isents as few temptations to vicious indulgence as 



? condition in life: perhaps it maybe said fewer 



II iptatious. Agricultural labor, unless pursued to 



excess, so far from being exhaustive and destruc- 



; like much other labor, is Iriendly to health, and 



tell|orable to intellectual vigor and length of life. The 



nestic ties seem stronger in the country than 



the city, because we are more dependent on 



til h other, and have fewer objects to engross our 



intion. Human life seems more valued in tbe 



.ntry than in tbe city. In the crowded city men 



p out of the stream, and the vacancy is instantly 



sd up by the rushing torrent, and scarcely produces 



the spectators a conscious emotion. When a valu- 



3 man dies in tbe country, the whole village mourns 



blow. Theie is more of real kindness and benev 



It sympathy in the country than in cities. The ci- 



are full of mugnificent charities, tbe country is 



of tbe charity of kind offices. In the country, is 



eighber sick or afflicted, the whole neighborhood 



prompt to visit him, to aid him by personal ser- 



!, and to watch night after night at his sick bed. 



lilies it cannot be so. Cities present some of the 

 9t bitter cases of friendlessness to be found in hu 

 n history. Persons suffer, and sicken, and die, 

 hout perhaps the cognizance of those living under 

 same roof and on the same floor. In the country 

 ^j sonal character has a higher value than in cities. — 

 jj cities every thing is absorbed in the great whirl 

 m Jusiness or pleasure; and in crowds, presenting 

 ry variety of character as of costume, men pass 

 >g without observation. In the country every 

 „tii > is known, observed, and watched. His charac- 

 g;| Beemi the common property of tbe village. This 

 (!,( lunelimes complained of in the country as iniperti- 

 D'Jce and intrusiveness. This may sometimes be 

 -lease, and it may become annoying; but it is not 

 frequent as tbe complaint of it. That it has a fa- 

 llible influence upm good morals which, under the 

 « ikness of human nature, need every security, there 

 '■' be no doubt. 



I the healthful labors of the country, the early 

 i rs, tbe simple diet, in the open air, in tbe virtuous 

 ■" raints, in the general good morals which prevail, 

 1 he strong sympathy and mutual interest in each 

 ) r's character and welfare, which bind such com- 

 Biitie* together, in the obsence of multiplied temp. 



tations and facilities of vice, which prevail in more 

 populous communities, an agricultural lile is highly 

 favoroble to virtue. 



PHILOSOPHY, REFINEMENT, MORALS, THE CONCOMIT- 

 ANTS OF AGRICULTURE. 



I hope I shall be escusod for dwelling so long upon 

 tbe advantages of agricultural and rural life. Agri- 

 culture has been too long denied the ronk which be- 

 longs to it among the pursuits of mankind. I would 

 speak of it as one of the highest pursuits of philoso- 

 phy. I would glodly commend it to persons of refi- 

 ned sentiment, as abounding in scenes, objects and as- 

 sociations, full of graiilicaiion to the most cultivated 

 mind; and for its moral securities and moral influen- 

 ces; it needs no recomnicndaiion in a community like 

 yours, presenting in its beautiful villages, among its 

 swelling hills, and its richly cultivated vales, in tbe 

 character of its rural population, such emphatical de- 

 monstrations of improved education, of correct mor- 

 als, and of the best influences of religion. 



1 have bare glanced at these topics,°bocause I would 

 not encroach upon your indulgence. I have done this 

 with the more earnestness, because the tendency of 

 our young people, impelled by avarice or by false 

 views of happiness, bos been to forsake the whole- 

 some pursuits of agriculture, where they found heolth, 

 compelence, ond a manly indepenaence, for occupa- 

 tions in the cities, oftentimes of the most servile char- 

 acter; degrading to their self-respect, corrupting to 

 their passions, and proving often tbe grave of their 

 virtue. Ourcitics liltcwise ore crowded with young 

 men of professional education, who, with hearts 

 aching from hopes deferred, linger along from year to 

 year until the health is exhausted, habits of indo- 

 lence are induced and confirmed, and the best por- 

 tion of life is woBtcd away without the accomplish- 

 ment of any valuable object; or the enjoyment of 

 those domestic tics, in which Heaven designed that 

 man should find the strongest security of virtue and 

 the purest fountains of happiness. 



AGRICULTORAl IMPROVEMKNTS BETTER THAN SPLENDID 



HOUSES. 



I would likewise gladly commend this subject to 

 another class of individuals, whose attention I fear, 

 however, I shall bespeak in vain. Whoever visits our 

 great cities is constantly struck with amazement at the 

 enormous expense and splendor of many of tbe pri 



moderate desires, matters of pure romance, which wo 

 had somewhere read of in our childhood. IJy ibe 

 righteous laws of Divine Providence, that inordinate 

 thirst for gain without industry, temperance, or fiu- 

 galily, bos been so signally rebuked that it will not a- 

 gain immediately show itself There may still be the 

 appearonce of life in its quivering limbs, but few will 

 have couroge or power to attempt its resuscitation. 



In the southern portions of our country, favored for 

 the purpose by its peculiar climate and soil, we bear 

 ot agricultural returns in their great staples, which 

 confounded tbe humble calculations to which we in 

 ^ew England are accustomed. Yet there ore abate- 

 ments in the case, in tbe perils to health, and in tie 

 nature of tbe labor by which these products arc pro- 

 cured, which, save where the heart is cankered with 

 avarice and inhumanity, at once relieve a New Eng- 

 land man of all envy of such success. The (act 

 likewise presents itself in tbe cose, strange as the o- 

 nonialy may seem, that the southern planters are not 

 richer than the uorlhcrn farmers; they have not so ma- 

 ny of the real comforts of life. Many a New Eng. 

 land farmer is more independent with his income of a 

 few. hundreds, than a southern master of his uncount- 

 ed acres and bis hundreds of slaves, with his income 

 of many thousands. I do not say these things in the 

 spirit of invidious comparisons; 1 would not mor tbe 

 pleasures of the occasion by awakening a single un- 

 kind feeling. But we may learn, from the facts in 

 the case, a lesson of gratitude, that we are permitted 

 to breathe the bracing air of northern mountains tmd 

 seas, and the still more invigorating otmosphere of 

 equality of condition aud universal freedom. 



Agriculture in New England presents no brilliant 

 prizes to the mind bent solely on the accumulation of 

 wealth. Yet rough, barren, and inhospitable as New 

 England seems to many persons, yet I can show you, 

 in every town from Lake Champlain to the Aroostook, 

 and from Saybrook to the Canada line, not a few ex- 

 amples of men, who by forming have maintained their 

 families in health and comfort, educated their children 

 well, and if so they pleased, found the means of send- 

 ing one or more sons to college; exercised, as far as 

 they bad occasion, an unstinted hospitality; contribu- 

 ted their full share of the public dues, and are now en- 

 joying the evening of life with an honest conscience 



, , ,...j „, ,„^ J,,,, and a competence for every reasonable want. Tbo 



vate residences; at the extravagant piles of brick and ^""^^t '" ^"'^1' case, may oppear moss-covered and 



stone, seldom half tenanted, and adapted to real com- 

 fort and convenience in an inverse ratio to their inor- 

 dinate size and their wasteful mognificence. I would 

 seldom, indeed, advise a person, accustomed through 

 the prime and middle of life to the excitements of bu- 

 siness, politics, amusements, and general society in 

 the cities, to go at once into the seclusion of the coun- 

 try, especially at that period of life when the vital cur- 

 rent becomes sluggish and tLe physical powers lose 

 their wonted energies ; but is it not difiicult for such 

 men when their fortunes are made, to enjoy the ad- 

 vantages of the city and the country together. Let 

 them pass, if they please, their winters in the city; 

 but what immense benefactions might they confer 

 upon society, and what sources of agreeable and use- 

 ful occupation might they find for themselves, if, in- 

 stead of spending their fifties or their hundreds of 

 thousands on a brick or stone castle in the city, which 

 they have seldom tbe menus of enabling their chil- 

 dren to occupy, and which must therefore, in the 

 course of nature, soon change hands, they would ex- 

 pend some three-fourths of thot sum in subduing, cul- 

 tivating and improving some hundreds of acres in tbe 

 country, rendering them productive, and planting up- 

 on them industrious families. They would breathe 

 into tbe hearts of their benefactors, the purest of plea- 

 sures in welcoming them, whenever they came a- 

 mong them, as their best friends. This seems one 

 of the most useful, as it is certainly one of the most 

 innocent purposes to which wealth can be applied. 



CAN AGKICULTIRE BE MADE PROFITABLE ? 



But I must pass on toother topics. The next ques- 

 tion then which arises in this case, is whether agricul- 

 ture con be made profitable; and especially whether it 

 can be made profitable ju New England ? This is a 

 great question. I can only reply briefly, without go- 

 ing into tbe various illustrations which might be pre- 

 sented. I will here express my thorough disgust for 

 that inordinate and grovelling avarice, which con find 

 no good but in the occumulatiou of dollars and cents. 

 Wealth is to be valued for its uses, not for its amount; 

 and a philanthropist can look with sorrow and alaim 

 upon that heartless and frenzied spirit of accumula- 

 tion, which at one time, like a terrible epidemic, ; 



threatened to lay waste all principle and honor, and to I Products, and Income of the East and West, "Great 

 rendcrconlentment, competence, and reasonable and] Improvements in Stock and Agricultural Imple- 



brown with age. No burnished lamps light up its 

 halls, and no carpel soft os down cover its floors; but 

 infinitely preferable is such a dwelling to palaces, 

 where once wealth, tbe product of defrauded labor, il- 

 luminated every room, and revelry and luxury held 

 their frequent courts; and where now, though bank- 

 ruptcy has long since entered, men are still living up- 

 on the fragments of former luxury or upon hoarded 

 gains, in defiance of justice and honor. 



ADVANTAGES OF HIGH CULTIVATION. 



I Further, my inquiries have satisfied me, that there 

 is not a single crop well cultivated in New England, 

 which in ordinary seasons will not pay a fair rent of 

 the land at current prices, and liberally compensate the 

 labor ond cultivation. Our proximity tu quick mar- 

 kets gives us grent advtntoges over many parts of the 

 country. In one of my visits to a town on the sea- 

 shore of Massachusetts, in a region whose rock- 

 bound surface seemed to have set cultivation at defi- 

 once, I found several acres of land subdued and im- 

 proved at the rate of three hundred dollars per acre. 

 Could this be aflbrded ? Look at the cose. The 

 land was made to produce three tons of hay to tbe 

 acre. The price of hay in the vicinity has averaged 

 for years, at least fifteen dollars. The value of one 

 ton of hoy per year, is sufficient to gather the crop 

 and keep tbe land in condition. Thirty dollars then 

 are the net return for the investment. These ore ex- 

 amples of extraordinary expenditure and ample pro- 

 fits. The crop of Indian corn is the greatest blessing 

 of our country. Tbe average crop in New Enj^lond 

 is thirty bushels. It is not difficult to produce fifty to 

 an acre. I have known one hundred and eleven pro- 

 duced on an acre in Massachusetts, as measured after 

 being shelled and dried. At fifty bushels per acre, 

 rating the rough fodder as equal to a ton of English 

 bay, ond tbe groin at seventy cents per bushel, the re- 

 turn may be considered as equal to fifty dollars. Thir- 

 ty dollars may be considered a high average price for 

 cultivation, and this including the interest upon the 

 value of the land at fifty dollars per acre. 



» • • • « 



(We here omit the sections entitled "Comparative 



