80S 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND EMILY NEWSPAPER 
ADDRESS 
Of the Hon. Hoiutio Seymour, before the New York State 
Agricultural Society, delivered at Utica, Sept. 10, 1852. 
Mr. President and Gentlemen of the Agricultural 
Society: 
Seventy years since, George Washington 
passed this place on his way to Fort Stanwix 
(now village of Rome,) to vi>it that remote 
outpost of civilization. Ilis route carried 
him over the conspicuous point a few miles 
west of this spot where the high table lands 
break down into the valley of the Mohawk. 
When he stood upon this elevation, the 
hills and valleys and plains of this region 
were stretched out before him. -An unbro¬ 
ken forest surrounded him in every direction. 
It is not a mere fancy when I say that the 
spot on which we are assembled, attracted 
his particular attention. We are met where 
the highlands which divided thevailiesof the 
Saquoit and Mohawk subside and allow these 
streams to form their confluence a short dis¬ 
tance to the west. Struck with the beauty, 
fertility and the great natural advantages oi 
this region which at that early day, he fore¬ 
saw would be the channel of commerce be¬ 
tween the valley of the Mississippi with its 
ten thousand miles of navigable streams, 
bordered by boundless fertile plains and the 
Atlantic coast, he purchased lands in this 
immediate vicinity, and many of the farms j 
within our view are held by titles derived 
from Gen. Washin ton. 
It was at the close of the Revolutionary 
war. when his efforts to establish the free¬ 
dom of our country had been crowned with 
triumph, when he was exuhing with patri 
otic joy over his country’s victories, and 
agitated with an anxious hope for its future 
prosperity that he contemplated with particu¬ 
lar attention, the region in which we are as¬ 
sembled. It was in the autumn; when the 
unbroken forest aroun I him was gorgeous 
with its varied hues. The country w is stil. 
in the possession of the savage Indians, save 
an occasional spot where the adventurous 
pioneer had fixed his cabin. In the vtlley 
beneath his feet, was the ravine where the 
battle of Oriskany was fought, in many re 
spects the most fierce and sanguinary strug¬ 
gle of the Revolutionary war; and he saw as 
he passed along, the ground strewed with the 
broken and shattered implements of war and 
the unbuii d remains of the brave German 
settlers and of his savage foe in many in¬ 
stances. fixed in each others dying grasp. 
The three score years and ten, the brief 
period allotted to the life of man, have rol¬ 
led away; and what have been their results 
to the feeble settlements of whites and to 
the remarkable confederacy of Indian tribes, 
who. before the advent of the European, 
without superiority of weapons, or knowl¬ 
edge of the sciences, solely by bravery and 
courage, held in awe and subj ction, a great¬ 
er extent of country than was ever before 
conquered by an equal number of warriors 
in any period of the world’s history. 
In the cemetery which adjoins this field, 
you will see a boulder of white siennite, 
which you would ordinarily pass by without 
notice, but which the simple faith and tradi 
tions of the Oneida taught him to regard with 
superstitious reverence and which he believed 
to be the palladium of the fortunes of his 
tribe. From it was derived the name of that 
tribe, (which signifies “the children of the 
white stone,”) one of the powerful clans of 
‘•the Six Nations,” who possessed this re¬ 
gion and gave their name to the country. 
This rude stone, that was supposed to have 
some mysterious connexion with the origin 
of their tribe, and, during the period of their 
prosperity, was used on occasions of solemn 
assemblages as a sacrificial altar, now stands 
in yonder burial place the sole monument of 
their departed greatness and of the extinc¬ 
tion of their race, and is all that is left to 
remind you of that bravo and powerful peo¬ 
ple. 
How has it fared with the white man, who 
then deemed it an adventurous thing to make 
his home in these valleys? Place yourself on 
yonder eminence, where George Washington 
stood seventy years since and pondered over 
the future destiny of this region, and mark 
the change. The forest has been swept 
away, or its 1 ngering vestiges are preserved 
to advance the art of civilization or to adorn 
the abides of civilized men. Hero is to be 
seen a flourishing city, and on every side are 
to be witnessed beautiful villages, the spires 
of churches and the institutions of learning. 
The products of civilized skill, no longer re¬ 
garded as curiosities, are produced by hun¬ 
dreds of manufacturing establishments, situ¬ 
ated along the margins of our streams, pro¬ 
ducing fabrics then unknown, by machinery 
which man’s ingenuity had not yet devised. 
Trade no longer struggles against the current 
of ) onder river in small canoes, but a com¬ 
merce is carried through the valley on our 
canals, that in extent, value and tonnage, is 
nearly if not quite equal to the whole foreign 
commerce of the United States. Intelligence 
is no longer communicated by uncertain ru¬ 
mor; it flashes like lightning along the tele¬ 
graphic line, and the traveler, instead of fol¬ 
lowing the Indian trail through dark and 
dense forests, is borne along on roads of iron 
by engines impelled by fire and steam. And 
on this day, on a spot which seventy years 
since was mainly possessed by savages, 
whose only pursuit was the chase, we are as¬ 
sembled for the purpose of advancing agri¬ 
culture, man’s most peaceful pursuit, with a 
greater number of able bodied men than the 
United States could bring into the field at 
any period during the Revolutionary strug¬ 
gles. [Applause.] 
The occasion on which we have assembled 
makes it proper for me, in speaking of the 
progress of our country, to confine my re¬ 
marks to considerations connected with ag- 
i riculture; and, if I mistake not. the present 
is a period of great interest in the history 
of that pursuit. It is an era which will 
I work changes of a radical nature in theprin- 
[ ciples of conducting husbandry, affecting not 
only the extent and character of the produc¬ 
tions of the earth, but also involving chan¬ 
ges in the domestic habits, and the degree of 
intelligence necessary to those engaged in the 
cultivation of the soil. If tl e views I shab 
submit to you are correct, they are certain!) 
of great importance as affecting the condition 
of the .liost numerous and important class 
of our citizens. Periods of domestic and in¬ 
dustrial changes, are not, of course, distinct¬ 
ly defined. They are in their nature grad¬ 
ual; and, in a State so extensive and so vari¬ 
ed in condition as ours, their progress will 
be umqual in different sections. 1 shall as 
sume, however, that the time that has passed 
since the settlement of the country, has been 
employed to subdue it to the use of civilized 
man; that the duty of the future will be to 
refine, perf< ct and bring it up to its full mea¬ 
sure of productiveness and improvement, to 
adapt our system of agriculture not only to 
the enlarged markets and increased facilities 
of our own country, but to its relationship 
to the commerce of the world. For the pur¬ 
pose of distinguishing these two peiiods 
more clearly, I shall designate the past as 
“the Era of the Axe.,” I select this imple¬ 
ment as the type of the past because it has 
been chiefly instrumental in hewing down 
our forest> and preparing our lands for cul¬ 
tivation. T shall term the period upon which 
we have entered, as the “'Era of Commercial 
Farmin'',” because at this time the advanced 
condition of our country, its increased popu¬ 
lation. its enlarged markets, its facilities for 
transportation by canals and railroads, and 
its growing connection with the commerce of 
our country and the world at large are now 
impressing, and will continue still more 
stiongly to force upon our farmers the neces¬ 
sity of adopting the leading principles of 
commercial economy and management in the 
conduct of their pursuits. 
In the early periods of the settlement of 
our State, the emigrant who left the Eastern 
States and plunged into these Western 
wilds,” carried with him little besides thein- 
dispensable implements of labor. The qual¬ 
ities required, were courage, perseverance, 
physical strength, and the power to endure 
hardships and privations. 
In the first instance, a rude cabin was to 
ho constructed and a little ground cleared to 
produce the food, essential to the preserva¬ 
tion o r life. When the forests were subdued 
by stern and severe labor, the condition of 
the country for a long time, afforded no 
markets; and those who cannot sell cannot 
buy. 
The great effort then was for every farmer 
to produce everything he required, within 
the circle of his own family, and he was es¬ 
teemed the Lost faimer, to use a phrase of 
the d.iy, who did everything within him¬ 
self” And it was then deemed as creditable 
for ladies to spin and weave as it was in the 
days of King Solomon, who in the Book of 
Proverbs describes an honorable woman:— 
“ She layeth her hands to the spindle and 
her hands hold the distaff.” c “ She looketh 
well to the ways of her household and 
eateth not the bread of idleness.” Or in the 
da\ s when Homer made the use of the dis¬ 
taff and loom the employment of Royal wo¬ 
men : 
“ A'cmdra consort of his high command 
A golden distatf gave to Helen’s hand ; 
And that rich vase with living sculpture! wrought, 
Which heaped with wool the bearaeous Philo b.ought. 
The silken fleece, imnurpled for the loom, 
tleoalled the hyacinth in vernal bloom. (Applause ) 
As the farmer was limited in his means for 
buying or selling, he was compelled to culti¬ 
vate a great variety of crops; and to produce, 
as far as practicable, every article of food, 
cloihing, furniture or farming implement up¬ 
on his own premises, and his establishment 
became an epitome of the agriculture and 
manufactures of the country. 
Restricted markets and the consequent 
want of monc-y. led to a system of exchange 
of productions among the farmeiS them¬ 
selves, or with the neighboring merchant. 
This system of “ Barter” was a distingu¬ 
ishing feature of the “ Day,” and is in mark¬ 
ed contrast with the leading principle of 
what I have termed “ Commercial Farming.” 
It not only affected the business aflairs, but 
the social condition of the people. Within a 
recent period, land owners of this county 
and of Western New York, received cattle in 
payment fir their lands; and the merchant 
ave his goods for the produce of the coun¬ 
try, taking all that was brought to him, put¬ 
ting the different rolls of butter received by 
him from the thrifty house-wife, into one c isk 
until the whole presented hues as vari> us as 
the calicoes which he gave in exchange.— 
(Applause.) 
Labor among farmers was exchanged on 
the same principle. When the axe had fell¬ 
ed the forest, the single man could not move 
the huge trunks of the gigantic trees, and a 
“ logging bee” called together the neighbors 
to aid him in the emergency, with the tacit 
understanding that the favors were to be re¬ 
turned upon a like occasion. 
The house and barn were raised upon the 
same principle, and so strong was this feel¬ 
ing of mutual dependence that many who 
would not pay a note of hand would shrink 
from refusing to go to a bee or raising. This 
principle found its way into all the relations 
and duties of life. The parson was, and is 
now to some extent, paid by donation parties; 
the schoolmaster “ boarded round ;” and even 
the social amusements which cheered and re¬ 
lieved toil, took the form of a ‘•paring bee,” 
or a quilting party. 
Marriage was not only an union of honest 
hearts and strong hands, but also of the spin¬ 
ning wheel and the axe ; the plough and the 
loom ; and when Death entered their doors 
his victim was carried to his last resting 
place not in a hired hearse, but upon the 
shoulders of neighbors and friends. I am 
aware that the friendly and useful customs to 
which I allude are still in existence in many 
sections, but they will be found to have had 
their origin not only in the limited produc¬ 
tions of a country while it is being reduced 
to cultivation, but also in the absence of a full 
monied demand for those things they were 
able to produce. 
The “ Era of the Axe” has passed away. 
It is true we have many hardy settlers toil¬ 
ing to subdue the new lands of the West, 
but the great extension of our system of 
Railroads and Canals or the natural facilities 
for commerce afforded by our lakes and riv¬ 
ers, place them all within the reach of mar¬ 
ket. while the demand for provisions enables 
them to sell the fruits of their toil for mo¬ 
ney- 
The past period is to be remembered with 
respect and gratitude. Modern wealth, im¬ 
provement. and science may be disposed to 
criticise its rude and imperfect processes; but 
we si ould bear in mind that it hewed down 
the forests and wrung a hard but honest live¬ 
lihood amidst its stumps and blackened re¬ 
mains. Its scattered population built roads 
through swamps and forests, rough and un¬ 
comfortable indeed, but preparing the way 
for the improvements of the present. It was 
the heroic period of farming in this country ; 
for the early settlers of our State 1 ear the 
same relation to the present condition of our 
land that the warriors of the middle ages 
bear to modern civilization. They laid the | 
foundation of our present social condition, I 
and th ir sturdy and brave warfare with the 
difficulties of their situations was as honora¬ 
ble as the strife of arms ; and the blows they 
struck upon the receding forests were as 
manfully given as ever fell on “ hauberk, 
casque, or shield.” The system they pursued 
was wisely adapted to the then conditions of 
the country, and if we do our duty as well, 
and areas sagacious in improving our advan¬ 
tages as they were, we shall soon see great 
improvement not only in agriculture but in 
all the arts of life. 
I have given this sketch of the past, not 
only because it is of historical interest, but 
also because it brings out more strongly, by 
contrast, what I conceive to be the important 
principles of agricultural economy at the pre¬ 
sent time, and which will continue to grow 
more essential in the future. 
The extension of facilities for conveying 
the productions of our soil to the markets of 
our own country and those of the commer¬ 
cial world, has not only enlarged the area of 
agricultural pursuits, but, by giving to our 
farmers an unlimited cash market, has also 
made essential to success, certain principles 
which would have been injurious during the 
period I have described. 
It involves many considerations of great 
interest and value, and deeply affecting the 
social and economical conduct of agricultural 
labor. At an early period, ‘“ production for 
s lf-consumption” was the leading purp >so; 
now no farmer would find it profitable “to 
do everything within himself.” lie now 
sells for money, and it is bis interest to buy 
with money every article that he cannot pro¬ 
duce cheaper than he can buy. lie cannot 
affird to make at home bis clothing, his fur¬ 
niture. or his farming utensils ; he buys ma¬ 
ny articles for consumption, for his table.— 
He produces that which he can raise and sell 
to the best advantage, and he is in a situa¬ 
tion to buy all that he can purchase cheaper 
than he can produce. Time and labor have 
become cash artie’es and he neither lends 
nor barters them. Ilis farm does not now 
merely afford him a subsistence ; it. produces 
capita! and therefore demands the expendi¬ 
ture of capital for its improvement. 
An extended cash market also enables him 
to simplify his processes. He can now take 
advantage of the princiole which lies at the 
foundation of success in comm- rcial and man¬ 
ufacturing pursuits, of “doing one thing, do¬ 
ing .t extensively and well.” It is true that 
the necessity for rotation of crops and im¬ 
provement of his soil, sometimes prevent 
him from carrying this principle out to its 
full extent. but*as he approximates to it, he 
increases his profits, as it enables him to 
methodize his business, and to acquire a thor¬ 
ough knowledge of every thing rela’ing to the 
article produced. He who has a large amount 
of any one thing to sell, can di-pose of it 
with less loss of time to himself and the 
buyers, and with a more perfect understand¬ 
ing of the markets than the man who has an 
equal amount in value, but made up of a di¬ 
versity of articles. 
This principle is well illustrated in that 
section of the State where the inhabitants 
are exclusively engaged in making bntter or 
cheese, pursuits which admit of the applica¬ 
tion of principle, as they do not exhau-t the 
soil. The products of their dairies are sold 
at their homes; the whole disposition of the 
fruits of their toil is a simple monied trails 
action, leaving them at liberty to buy their 
supplies, including the flour they consume, 
with cash, under the most favorable circum¬ 
stances. Confining their attention to one 
subject from year to year,they becomeskiiled 
in their peculiar pursuit, and methodize and 
cheapen their processes. Informed with re¬ 
gard to the markets, they learn to follow 
their productions into the open marke's ol 
the world, trace them perhaps to the shores 
of Europe, and are thus led to inform them¬ 
selves more thoroughly in ri lation to the 
principles of commerce, the laws of trade, 
and the tastes and habits of their customers. 
A simple illustration of the same principle is 
an apple orchard that gives fifty varieties of 
fine fruit, in comparison with <>ne that gives 
but one valuable kind. The first is almost 
valueless for commercial purposes, for the 
time required for gathering and selling the 
fruit in detail and at different times, eats up 
their price in market, while the same number 
of trees of one standard variety, makes an im¬ 
portant addition to the farmers income, be¬ 
cause he gathers and sells them by one ope¬ 
ration, and because with our extended mar¬ 
kets. the purchaser seeks him out to save 
his time and expenses by I uying largely at 
one place. The important principle of “ do¬ 
ing one thing, doing it well and extensively,” 
is one of the principles towards which there 
is now a strong tendency. Of course, in 
agriculture, this must be qualified by the 
necessity which compels rotation of crops. 
&c, but the principle can and should be ap¬ 
proximated to. 
The world has never been so highly com¬ 
mercial as it is at this time, never has inter¬ 
course between the nations of the earth 
been upon so vast a scale, and the farmers of 
New York by the instrumentality of Rail¬ 
roads, Canals and Steamships are brought 
within its vortex. The tendency of this is 
not only to disseminate intelligence, but it 
renders varied information indispensable—the 
affairs of the whole commercial world blend 
themselves with our Agriculture and give 
this pursuit a scope and relationship that de¬ 
mand and produce varied intelligence. Men 
enlarge their capacities and improve with 
iheir pursuits. The circle of the farmer’s 
dealings is not now limited to his neighbors 
and the next merchant—it is extending it¬ 
self into all quarters of the globe. 
The office of commerce is to give value to 
articles by transporting them from the pla¬ 
ces where they are not wanted to those pla¬ 
ces where they are needed. It was wittily 
and wisely said by an English statesman on 
a recent occasion, “ that filth was not a bad 
thing, it was only a thing m the wrong place, 
and that which bred pestilence in the city, 
spread upon the fields of the country, created 
beauty, prosperity and wtalth.” This idea 
admits of an amplification and an application 
to the subj ct before us. 
There is nothimr valuable out of a value¬ 
less in its proper place. The ore in the earth 
is valueless, the rude rock in the commercial 
mart is valuable. The stone which obstructs 
the fanner’s plow, and the dirt that annoys 
the citizen must be highly valuable if they 
changed places. 
The simple law that creates commerce is 
the importance of putting things in their 
right places, and the whole secret of success 
in business, is to find out what the thing is 
worth in the right place. The price which 
the farmer can command will depend upon 
how much his products are needed in some 
quarter of the world, and if he is ignorant 
of the nature and extent of their demand, 
and uninformed upon commercial principles, 
he will lack essential requisites for the suc¬ 
cessful management of his affairs, and the 
profits he should gain will be reaped by an¬ 
other. 
I shall not advert in this address to the 
importance of scientific attainments, to the 
advantages of particular processes, or to the 
great improvements in mechanical appliances. 
These are subjects that have been considered 
and pressed upon the attention of our far¬ 
mers by those far more competent than I, 
and they will ever continue among the prac¬ 
tical questions which will engage the atten 
tion of those who are anxious to elevate and 
advance agricultural pursuits. We have ev¬ 
ery assurance that our country will make 
great advances in these respects, and a b ne- 
ficent Providence which favors rural life will 
compel a knowledge of the soil and its con¬ 
stituents, and of many forms of animal life 
by making its attainment necessary to pre¬ 
vent exhaustion of fertility and the ravages 
of insects. I think the advances which are 
made in these respects are much greater than 
we suppose. Scientific knowledge when it 
comes forth from the laboratory or study is 
clothed with a nomenclature so s iff and for¬ 
bidding that it is somewhat repulsive, but 
by the aid of popular discourses, agricultu 
ral societies, and above all, of the Press, it is 
gradually popularized, expressed in more fa¬ 
miliar terms, and becomes a part of thatgen 
eral intelligence we all possess. 
In the great struggle which is going on 
among the nations of the earth for commer¬ 
cial supremacy, the farmers of this country 
are to bear an important part. They fur¬ 
nish the freight wfiich sends our vessels into 
every quarter of the globe; their pursuit is 
of the highest and first necessity to all other 
departments of business; if it languishes 
they suffer, and if it prospers, they are suc¬ 
cessful. 
The increased intercourse among nations, 
the modifications of revenue laws, and im¬ 
provement of ships, and the introduction of 
steam upon the ocean, Lave brought us into 
close competition with Europe. Interest, 
pride and patriotism make us view the result 
with deep solicitude. How are we prepared 
for the contest? 
In estimating ourselves we must not fall 
into the common error of comparing our¬ 
selves with what we were. We are apt to 
think lightly of the work of the hardy pio¬ 
neer without refl cting upon the difR-ultiis 
he encountered, and we grow self-satisfhd as 
we dwell upon our improved condition. The 
world will not permit us to be judged by 
such standards. We have arriv-d at that 
condition when wc cannot with self respect 
ask any allowances in our favor; the stern 
question now to be met is not what wo are 
or shall be in comparison with the past, hut 
what we ought to be with our present oppor 
tunities; what are the advantages we now 
enjoy, and how shall we enlarge them, and 
bring ourselves up to the full measure of our 
duty to ourselves, our count!y and the world? 
And how will our farmers sustain the com¬ 
petition which commerce creates be two m 
them and tho agriculturalists of other sec¬ 
tions of the world? Wo are now relieved 
from the difficulties with which the early 
settlers had to contend. Want, piivation 
and suffering are comparatively unknown; 
our fertile fields have been prepared for use 
by the hardy and brave men who have gone 
before us; science and mechanical skill have 
given us convenient implements to aid us in 
our labors—our houses and barns are built— 
our country is filled with institutions of learn¬ 
ing and religion. Capital can be obtained 
with comparative ease to enable us to man¬ 
age our affairs to the best advantage. We 
have abundant facilities for sending our pro¬ 
ductions to market, and a demand for them 
which enables us to sell them for money 
upon some terms. It is a reinaikable fact 
that every county in this great State either 
borders upon some navigable sea, lake or 
river, or is traversed by a canal or railroad, 
either completed or in process of construc¬ 
tion, all communicating with our great com- 
mercia’emporium. We have now no “‘se¬ 
questered regions” in the Empire State.— 
These improvements must immediately give 
us a great addition to our wealth and popu¬ 
lation. 
The houses of many of our farmers con¬ 
tain articles of comfort and luxury unknown 
to Royalty two centuries since, and our citi¬ 
zens who will inform themselves with respect 
to the domestic comforts of the Ilenrys and 
Edwards of England, will congratulate them¬ 
selves that they are sovereign citizens here 
rather than kings and queens, when a piece 
of carpet was considered so indicative of Roy¬ 
alty, that a strip laid at the foot of the throne 
gave rise to the term “ carpet knight,” to 
distinguish those who received their knight¬ 
hood in the palace and not on the battle field. 
There is much also in the physical charac¬ 
ter of our country to excite our admiration. 
Its variety of climate and productions, and 
the magnificence of its natural arrangements, 
apparently designed for commerce and inter¬ 
course upon a vast scale, its great inland 
seas and ri\ers, whose united length would 
span the world. Our present condition is 
not only one of great prosperity, but the 
highest anticipations are excited for the fu¬ 
ture. Cities, towns and states are created 
with bewildering rapidity, and the sudden 
influx of population and business into new 
regions of fresh fertility, pours wealth into 
the possession of many who seetn to be ex¬ 
onerated from the conditions upon which it 
is ordinarily attained. But great natural or 
acquired advantages will not of themselves 
alone either give or secure to us agiicultural 
or national prosperity. 
The skies of Italy are as bright, her air as 
genial, and her soil as productive, as when 
Rome was mistress of the world ; yet now 
her independent existence is questionable.— 
Her ancient dominion, at this time, is rivalled 
by a people occupying a limited and an insu¬ 
lar position. “ It is the proud boast of Brit¬ 
ain,” to use the language of one of onr ora¬ 
tors, “' that the sun never sets upon her do¬ 
minion, and that the beat of her morning 
drum makes one continuous strain of mas c 
round the world.” But vast as is the fabric 
of British power, and immense as is the ac¬ 
cumulation of her wealth and resources, let 
her inhabitants for six short months adopt 
the habits of the modern Italian, and univer¬ 
sal bankruptcy would overwhelm her; her 
power would crumble and its huge remains 
encumber the circle of the globe. The power 
of the British empire is sustained by the in¬ 
telligence, toil and labor of her farmers and 
her artizans. The old world is strewed with 
the remains of ancient empires, and the an¬ 
tiquarian examines with curious eye the bids 
and mouldering bricks, to determine the site 
of Babylon, or muses over the splintered col¬ 
umns that half survive the wreck of Thebes, 
or wanders through Athens or Rome, where 
traces of beauty and greatness still linger. 
All these hear witness that both position and 
natural advantages fail to secure perpetuity 
of prosperity or power. 
The Providence which governs this world 
nowhere creates prosperity for an ignorant 
or an inactive population ; nor, on the other 
hand, does it withhold from intelligence and 
industry their rewards, although they may 
be exerted under the most unfavorable cir¬ 
cumstances. It may be asserted as a great 
general truth, that the condition of every 
community or class depends upon '■the senti¬ 
ments which 'pervade it .’ Tho prosperity 
of society is the result of its own efforts. 
Its degree depends u on its intelligence and 
activity—its character upon the public opin¬ 
ion which attaches particular value to par¬ 
ticular pursuits. Self interest alone does not 
furnish the necessary stimulus. History 
proves that it has failed to perpetuate pros¬ 
perity, and the condition of the world around 
bears witness that it does not create it. It 
is the result of a diffusion of intelligence fur¬ 
nishing the knowledge necessary to effect 
purposes, and a decided public sentiment 
giving direction to energies, and selecting the 
objects which shall he deemed most valuable. 
The intelligence of any Society creates its 
power. A public sentiment makes its mo¬ 
rality, and gives the impulses which lead to 
th i exertion of its power. Like tho steam 
in the engine, public sentiment is the great 
source of action. 
I wish to call your attention to the potency 
of this public sentiment—to its importance 
to our agricultural pursuits, and to the fact 
that all may influence it. Let us glance at 
some of the curious and interesting phases 
which it gives to different communities pos¬ 
sessing equal degrees of intelligence and ex¬ 
isting under similar conditions of government 
and position. 
The inhabitants of the New England states 
justly claim to be among the most intelligent 
people of the Earth. Living among wild and 
broken hills, with an unpropitious soil and 
comparatively uncongenial climate; by ener¬ 
gy, industry and economy, they have become 
wealthy, refined and influential. New Eng¬ 
land attaches a high value to mechanical skill 
and ingenuity, and he who can invent that 
which will save labor or produce property, is 
admired and rewarded. 
His skill is at once appreciated and ap¬ 
plauded. The thoughts and efforts of their 
community directed by the public sentiment 
to one end, are producing results of the high¬ 
est value and interest. Intense activity per¬ 
vades every branch of her mechanical pur¬ 
suits, and other productions of varied beauty 
and usefulness are created by machinery, in 
many instances so complicated, that we are 
bewildered in studying their processes, and 
so accurate in the performance of their deli¬ 
cate duties that we aro startled by a suspi¬ 
cion that they possess vitality and thought. 
To that degree of perfection are these 
pursuits carried, and so certain have becomo 
their results in this portion of our country 
where they are held in high estimation, that 
their movements are on a scale that com¬ 
pares with governmental action. A few 
years since, a committee was sent out to ex¬ 
amine into the system of manufacturing of 
the Eastern States. They were shown at 
one point, the fields still enclosed by fences 
upon the banks of a wild and broken river, 
where a few manufacturers had determined 
in a counting room in Boston to build a 
manufacturing city. Theirs was no excited 
movement. It was calm, well considered, 
and almost mechanical. They may not all 
have seen the selected spot, but its bounds 
