AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
For the American Agriculturist. 
POULTRY FEEDING-WHITE SHHANGHAIS- 
I was pleased to read your invitation for 
information relative to poultry, not because 
I desired or expected to write anything my¬ 
self, but because of the importance (in my 
opinion) of thoroughly understanding the 
good, bad, or indifferent qualities of the sev¬ 
eral varieties of fowls, and the best means 
for their management, to make it profitable 
as well as a pleasure to keep them. I have 
for several years kept poultry, and during 
that time have tried the qualities of several 
varieties. Last season I kept a variety 
called the Wild West Indian Games, a very 
handsome bird, hardy ar.d good layers. I 
have also tried the Brahma Pootras, Grey 
Shanghais, and last of all, the pure White 
Shanghais. I am satisfied that your corre¬ 
spondent, W. D., never kept this last named 
variety; had he done so, I have no 
doubt but he would have made an exception 
in favor of these, in his general condemnation 
of the Shanghais —I agree with him as to the 
ordinary variety. The White, instead of 
being unsightly, unprofitable, gross feeders, 
coarse meated, Sic., are exactly the reverse; 
being a very handsome fowl both in shape 
and color, they are short-legged, have short, 
compact bodies, and as layers are superior 
to any kind of fowls that I have ever kept. 
They have continued to lay all winter, not 
being affected at all by the coldest weather. 
They are very easy to raise, and early come 
to maturity ; the meat is said to be very fine 
for the table. I never kept a fowl that ap¬ 
peared to be less troubled with the cold 
weather than this variety. I am so well 
pleased with the very fine qualities of these 
fowls, that I shall take pains to introduce 
them in this vicinity as much as possible 
this season, by disposing of the eggs at alow 
price. 
My plan of feeding has been, to keep buck¬ 
wheat and corn where the fowls could have 
access to it at all times ; once a day to give 
them meal, wet with hot water, and fed 
while hot, and some three or four times a 
week to feed them raw cabbage, turnips, or 
onions, chopped fine. The latter I give as 
often as once a week. 1 also keep lime, or 
some other substance, where they can have 
access, to aid in forming the shell. There 
is one point in which, I think, your corre¬ 
spondents do you a wrong, (perhaps an un¬ 
intentional one on their part,) and that is, to 
write a most excellent advertisement in the 
shape of a communication. If they have 
fowls to dispose of, and desire the fact made 
known publicly, they should send you an ad¬ 
vertisement and pay for its insertion, at the 
same time they might write a communica¬ 
tion for your reading columns, giving a de¬ 
scription of their poultry, experience in 
raising, &c., and referring the reader to the 
advertisement for terms, &c. I look upon 
your paper as the most valuable agricultural 
paper with which I am acquainted, and such 
is the universal sentiment of all who read. 
You ought to have a very large subscription 
list. C. 
Hartford, Ct. 
Guilt is best discovered by its own fears. 
BRISTOL COUNTY (MASS ) AG. SOCIETY. 
ADDRESS OF HON. JACOB MILLER. 
We have upon our table, awaiting exami¬ 
nation, a number of valuable Reports of 
County Agricultural Societies, for 1854, 
Among those of especial interest are reports 
from the Counties of Bristol, Berkshire, and 
Middlesex, in Massachusetts. We have 
also before us the reports of the com¬ 
mittees for 1854, of the Massachusetts Hor¬ 
ticultural Society, with the schedule of prizes 
for 1855. 
We have just been looking over the first- 
named, that of Bristol County, which con¬ 
tains the address of Hon. Jacob W. Miller, 
of New-Jersey, and several valuable re¬ 
ports of committees. The address is a very 
able one. We have only room for the fol¬ 
lowing extracts, which, while showing its 
general character, will be found quite in¬ 
teresting withal: 
Husbandry is no longer a servile employ¬ 
ment in Massachusetts. Commencing a ne¬ 
cessity, genius and skill have advanced it to 
an art. Liberal wealth, cultivated taste, and 
scientific knowledge, now do homage to ag¬ 
riculture. Retiring merchants, oppulent 
manufacturers, statesmen and philosophers, 
seek repose and enjoyment in rural occupa¬ 
tions. And even he, whose renown as 
statesman, orator, and civilian filled the 
world, preferred to die the farmer of Marsh¬ 
field, surrounded by the rustic scenery and 
rural beauties which his classic taste had 
prepared for his home and for his grave. 
Among the many trophies which his giant 
intellect has won in the forum and the sen¬ 
ate—among the thousand monuments which 
his admiring countrymen may erect to 
his name, that old ocean-farm which his 
hand cultivated will survive them all in the 
recollection of the farmer of Massachusetts ; 
and, so long as grass grows and water runs, 
associate the name of Daniel Webster with 
the agriculture of New-England. * * * 
Whence comes it, then, that the votaries 
of a pursuit demanding industry, learning, 
and intelligence, fail to enjoy that deferen¬ 
tial regard which envelops the learned pro¬ 
fessions in an atmosphere of respectful con¬ 
sideration I Before an answer could be 
framed for this query, it is necessary to 
clear away an impediment, which obstructs 
the very threshold. A cant phrase has of 
late become current among demagogues, 
who burn incense before a wooden idol, 
which they are pleased to christen as the 
“ dignity of labor.” This complimentary 
adulation may catch voters at the poll, but 
conveys a fallacy inadmissible, when we are 
in search of sterling truth. There exists 
neither dignity, nor a phantom of dignity, in 
labor unconnected with intelligence. On the 
contrary, sheer muscular effort converts a 
man into a machine ; the instrument by 
which the power of inertia is overcome, and 
particles of matter removed from one posi¬ 
tion into another. This function may be per¬ 
formed by every mule, water-wheel, and 
steam-engine in the land. But when strength 
is actuated by a laudable object, and guided 
to its intended results by combined intellect 
and knowledge, then indeed labor becomes 
venerable. Only as the joint offspring of 
mind and matter, it is clothed with dignity. 
To consummate this nuptial union of action 
with study and reflection ; to connect labor, 
thought, and science by a holy alliance ; and 
thus to confer a real dignity and efficiency 
upon three-fourths of the human race, is the 
high problem reserved for solution by this 
nineteenth century. Let us review some of 
the means of achieving an enterprize, which, 
if anything mortal can be so characterized, 
is indeed godlike. . Had man been created 
without the gregarious instinct, he would 
ever have remained a mere barbarian. The 
ideas and experience of a solitary savage per¬ 
ish with him: the ideas and experience of 
millions of savages congregated during 
thousands of years, thrown by juxtaposition 
into one fermenting and teeming mass, have 
transformed this savage into a philosopher. 
Armed with the telescope and microscope, 
the chemical bath and the electric battery, 
the pristine barbarian now unvails nature, 
traces her combinations on this our globe, 
and announces her laws, among the inac¬ 
cessible orbs of the milky way. The smooth 
marble is not self-polished, but derives its 
lustre from the friction of another similar 
fragment. The rough mind becomes pol¬ 
ished by friction against other minds equally 
rough. Association, then, reciprocal move¬ 
ment, interchange, are the sole basis of im¬ 
provement, alike in rational and material, in 
mental as well as in physical constitution. 
The operation of this gregarious tendency 
is counteracted among farmers by the very 
nature of their pursuits. Their residence 
must necessarily be separated by considera¬ 
ble distances, and the brief intervals of labor 
can be enjoyed only occasionally in familiar 
intercourse. 
Hence the distinction between urban and 
rural population ; between the acute, bust¬ 
ling, sharp witted, speculative artisan, and 
the slow, steady, reflective, sagacious hus¬ 
bandman. To compensate this disparity, 
the social principle must be summoned into 
activity ; and agricultural societies seem the 
best, nay, the only practicable remedy. Cel¬ 
ebrations, then, such as this, which now con¬ 
centrates a wide district, may be considered 
as the preliminary step towards realization 
of the true dignity of labor. Remote friends 
are here collected to interchange ideas and 
experiences, to compare machinery and prac¬ 
tices, to distribute novel seeds, or exhibit 
choice animals, and, beyond all, to exalt the 
intellectual faculties by emulation and re¬ 
ciprocal contact. This goodly company is a 
whetstone to sharpen ingenuity, a stimulant 
to amicable and honorable rivalry, a friction 
of mind against mind, polishing and invigor¬ 
ating at every encounter. 
Thus can the union be consummated be¬ 
tween reflection and action, between acute 
mind and indefatigable body. The dignity 
of labor will cease to be mere cant, when 
the sound mind, actuating a robust body, re¬ 
conciles the maximum of produce to the 
minimum of effort. * * * * 
Swerving a little from the main line of 
argument, let me suggest that a demarkation 
quite too strict has been drawn between the 
garden and the farm. Why should the pro¬ 
duction of the most costly and tender plants 
be depreciated as a mere culinary accom¬ 
plishment—the dandyism of agriculture? 
The process by which delicate exotics can 
be acclimated, and naturalized to our soil and 
sky; the test of various manures ; the effi¬ 
cacy of novel tools and engines, with a mul¬ 
titude of details, ought to form the subject 
of restricted and partial experiment, before 
we hazard their adoption into the routine of 
general practice; hence the garden ought 
frequently to be regarded as a chemical la¬ 
boratory, in which the intelligent farmer 
preludes a more expensive and expansive 
experiment. Excepting maize and tobacco, 
the produce of our agriculture consists 
chiefly of an alien vegetation ; while the 
turkey is the sole tenant of the farm-yard 
whose ancesters have not been imported. 
«**#-**** 
One benefit is already assured. The exer¬ 
cise of agriculture will rise in the scale of 
of society from a mere vocation into a pro¬ 
fession, as soon as a well-cultivated farm 
becomes the index of a well-cultivated intel- 
