290 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
five years ago, and worked his way up, by his 
activity and intelligence, to the command of a 
ship. From that he was received as a partner 
in “ the house,” and knows every rope in every 
one of their ships, and all their various courses 
across the ocean. He has been a laborious man 
all his life. That leading iron-merchant was first 
a blacksmith’s apprentice in the upper part of 
the city. The lad became an excellent judge of 
iron and steel; and his master, who was the prin¬ 
cipal iron-forger at one of the great ship-yards, 
employed him for the last year or two of his 
‘time’ to select the iron for his shops; and 
when his apprenticeship was ended, so well had 
his knowledge and intelligence become known 
to those of whom his master purchased his stock, 
that one of them offered him a place in his ware¬ 
house, where he soon became a partner. He 
went abroad to make their purchases, ultimately 
became possessed of iron mines, and erected 
forges in this State, and years of steady labor 
have crowned his efforts with a fortune. That 
distinguished judge never had a college educa¬ 
tion, as you have. His mother was the widow 
of a poor mechanic, with several children to pro¬ 
vide for. He, the oldest, with the scanty edu¬ 
cation obtained at a common school, went into a 
law office to copy papers. He toiled early and 
late, and with his earnings assisted his mother 
in maintaining the family, until they could pro¬ 
vide for themselves. His industry and attention 
to business w r on the good-will of his employer, 
who assisted him to gain his profession, in which 
he has labored, without intermission, for twenty 
years. Yet he is not rich—merely ‘ well off.’ 
He bought his farm, because his intense appli¬ 
cation to his profession was undermining his 
health; and he lives upon it for the advantages 
of exercise and pure air. In one sense, these 
gentlemen are farmers; but farming is not their 
;pursuit —it is their recreation—pastime, if you 
choose. They never proposed nor expected to 
make money from their farms. Still, I under¬ 
stand that they are, in reality, much better 
farmers than some of their neighbors, who never 
knew nor did any other business than farming. 
They seek no distinction as gentlemen farmers. 
In their regular business, that in which they 
have made their wealth and reputation, they 
sought no title but to be good bankers, good 
merchants, good lawyers; and were they now to 
retire upon their farms, and apply themselves to 
their cultivation, they would only seek to be good 
farmers, which, with the same application of 
mind that has been exercised in their previous 
pursuits, they would readily become.” 
“ Why, really, sir, this had not occurred to me 
before. I supposed that my father would allow 
me a few hundred, perhaps a thousand dollars 
a year from his private purse. The family, you 
know, would go down and spend a few weeks 
every summer with me. I should come into 
town to stop a part of the winter; my head-man 
would look after the farm, and as most of our 
country neighbors say farming is a good busi¬ 
ness, I supposed I could get on cleverly, and lay 
up something, on a good farm of three hundred 
acres, even if I didn’t go in to the field to work 
myself. I could give orders, and certainly my 
head-man should know enough to carry them 
out.” 
“Has your father now' a head-man on the 
place?” 
“ No, sir. My uncle, of whom he purchased 
the farm, reserved the privilege of remaining on 
it till next spring. He has a family of sons, all 
farmers, and has bought a large tract of land in 
Illinois, where they are to remove, and I am 
then to take possession. I am now on the look¬ 
out for a proper man to take charge of it. Per¬ 
haps you can recommend me to one ?” 
“ Will not one of the young men, your cousins, 
stop with you awhile, to get things in train for 
you ?” 
“ Oh, no ; he would be a cousin , you know, 
and think himself quite as good as me. In fact, 
I suggested the thing one day to Thomas, the 
eldest, but from the slighting manner in which 
he received it, I ascertained at once that the po¬ 
sition of a subordinate was unpalatable to him; 
so I did not renew the subject.” 
“ Not at all unnatural. He saw that he must, 
in reality , be the instructor, but apparently , the 
mere executor of your commands. Young men 
who have brains of their own, in this country, 
most generally choose to exercise them exclu¬ 
sively for their own benefit, particularly in 
farming.” 
“ I see, in fact, in several applications which 
I have made to young fai’mers in the neigh¬ 
borhood, they manifested great reluctance at 
undertaking the management of my affairs; and 
indeed one of them was frank enough to tell me, 
that when he labored for anybody, he preferred 
to be employed by a man who understood his 
own business, rather than to execute the com¬ 
mands of one who didn’t know whether he was 
well or ill served.” 
“ You had told him, perhaps, that you intend¬ 
ed to be a gentleman farmer?” 
“ I did; and he replied that he didn’t know 
why a farmer should not be a gentleman, as well 
as anybody else; but he couldn’t understand 
w'hy a man should be a gentleman farmer, any 
more than a store-keeper should be a gentleman 
merchant , or that Tim Toodles the cobbler, over 
the way, should be a gentleman cordwainer. 
For his part, he believed that every man who 
followed a business for a living ought to under¬ 
stand the business himself, particularly if he ex¬ 
pected to get a living by it, whether he was a 
gentleman or not.” 
“ Not bad—although rather homely and plain 
spoken advice.” 
“Now, my good sir, this is the very thing I 
have come to talk with you about. I understand 
that you are considerable of a farmer yourself; 
not perhaps exactly what I mean a gentleman 
farmer; but one who farms, besides attending, 
incidentally, to other affairs. In reality, I want 
your advice. I wish to go on the farm; I have 
thought’much of the subject of agriculture ; it 
is a manly, an. honest, a peaceful pursuit. It 
has few risks, and if not so alluring in its pro¬ 
mises of wealth, it is safe, and altogether re¬ 
spectable. Besides this, my father has said that 
he would by-and-by give me the farm, if I liked 
the pursuit, and succeeded in it. But my 
mother and the girls say they cannot bear to 
think of knocking about with coarse frock and 
trowsers on; that they don’t want a homespun 
country girl for a sister-in-law—in short, that 
farming, of itself, is a vulgar occupation.” 
“ I see; I see. The same old idea of city-bred 
folks ever since the days of King Solomon ! The 
‘ hand applied to the distaff’ meets no favor with 
a city lady. I suppose one of the dashing, fur- 
belowed daughters of old Cremona —who fiddled 
for twenty odd years as leader in the orchestra 
at Simpson’s theatre, until a lucky railway specu¬ 
lation ‘ set him up ’ in Tenth street—vulgar and 
snobbish as she is, would be altogether accepta¬ 
ble in that capacity, if an odd score or two of 
thousands could go with her as a dowry ?” 
“You are rather severe, my dear sir. Still I 
fear there is too much truth in your remark. I 
wish to start fair in the world. Many of my 
boyhood companions have become ruined, by the 
indulgence of their parents, in idle and dissolute 
habits; few of them promising any thing but to 
become spendthrifts of their fathers’ estates, if 
they be unfortunate enough to outlive him. I 
have no taste for any of the professions for which 
my college education has prepared me; and 
even were I to acquire one, the competition in 
them is so severe, that I see nothing before me 
but unremitting toil for years, before I should 
become successful, if even then. For my fa¬ 
ther’s business I am not fitted, having spent the 
years in study that I should have been learning 
it. Besides, I love the country. It jumps with 
my tastes, and of all things, I would prefer be¬ 
coming a really good, independent farmer, to 
any other pursuit I know. I believe that I have 
mind enough to learn it; and could I be put on 
the right course, I am certain I should succeed.” 
“ Good; you now talk like a man of sense, and 
if that is your true spirit, your object is already 
half accomplished. And now, to commence, do 
you know of any man, in any kind of business, 
who has been successful, that has not diligently 
attended to it himself—not trusting its manage¬ 
ment, either in gross or in detail, to others, but 
intimately acquainting himself with the routine 
and the principles on which it should be con¬ 
ducted?” 
“ Go on, sir, if you please.” 
“ You will find that every man who succeeds, 
let his business or profession be what it may, 
understands his own business , and what apper¬ 
tains to it, if he knows nothing else. His mind 
is upon it. He may be ignorant in other things; 
but he has a mind for his pursuit, and in that 
pursuit his mind is continually active. How 
think you the business of the merchant, the ar- 
tizan, the lawyer, the physician, or the divine 
would succeed, if he set himself up as a gentle¬ 
man of leisure, spent his time in idle recreation, 
merely driving to his country house, workshop, 
or office, in the morning, and giving to his clerks, 
subordinates, or students, their orders for the 
day, and leaving it for their hireling and unin¬ 
terested brains and exertions to carry out his 
commands? Would he be a successful man? 
Certainly not. Then why should the farmer, 
who has, in his varied occupations, a larger field 
for the exercise of his faculties than almost any 
other, not apply himself to study and investiga¬ 
tion to the utmost limit of his capacity? The 
great volume of nature is before him. The 
earth, with its geology, its minerals, its vegeta¬ 
ble and animal physiology, its natural chemistry 
—the elements themselves—all, in fact, which a 
bountiful Providence has deposited in, placed 
upon, and showered over the earth for the bene¬ 
fit of man. All are opened to him, demanding 
his deepest investigation, and offering its results 
to his own benefit. The man of mind, and of 
sufficient capital, like yourself, need not labor 
day by day with his own hands. His eye and 
his thoughts are chiefly required. The labor of 
others he can command. It is simply requisite 
