1849. 
THE CULTIVATOR. 
13 
forcibly reminded of this truth, the neglected corn, 
still standing on the field—the rich soil intended for 
spring crops, resting under a covering of mischievous 
weeds; the new grown wheat plant suffering already 
in stagnant waters, for want of proper drains or fur¬ 
rows,- the plow and the harrow, resting on a soft and 
muddy headland, there to remain exposed to the win¬ 
ter storms^ the fine wooled sheep hurrying over a long 
fed pasture, snatching a scanty meal, while an adjoin¬ 
ing field exhibits a bountiful supply; abundant hay stacks 
far from the barns and sheds, around which the sheep 
cluster in snowy weather, exposed and shivering; such, 
and such like negligence^ are, every where too often 
to be seen, in this our beautiful state-—negligences 
arising from a want of system and order , and for 
which an easy-remedy exists, when the suffering party 
can be convinced, that he not only loses a portion of 
the moneyed benefit he seeks for, but also loses in the 
estimation of his fellow-citizens-, who view with silent 
regret the slovenly aspect of his farm, the want of 
order, and the loss of natural advantages for want of 
system . 
It was Buxke who said, that u good order is the 
foundation of all good things ; 7 ’ and as fai’mers we may 
be assured, that a want of order in our farming opera¬ 
tions, and a want of system in our course of cultivation, 
must and will display a confused mind,-—a mind with¬ 
out a steady object, relying on chance, dependent on 
accident, causing a loss of many “ good things^.” 
The season is now at hand when all our out-door 
operations cease; in fact, the systematic farmer has 
closed his field labor for this year, except perhaps 
ditching, or the removal of stumps and stones. Now 
is the season to reflect, and establish a system for the 
coming year, and by a judicioixs ari-angement of crops 
and field work, have or cause each to follow in an 
order, admitting of no hurry or anxiety for its due and 
thorough accomplishment; this, generally may andean 
be done, and the man who omits it cannot run an equal 
race with his better informed and careful neighber. 
No excuse or apology can be found for the want of 
order; it does not require talent or skill, neither does it 
consume time; while its exercise causes every thing 
within its influence to be ready for action, agreeable to 
the eye, enduring in existence, and fitted to produce 
the required results without failure. 
Neither can any man be excused for a want of sys¬ 
tem, no, no more than ignorance can be tolerated in 
this state, where such abundant sources of knowledge 
are freely proffered. f Tis true, that system requires effort 
of mind, and so does eveiy vocation whereto man is call¬ 
ed, if he would perform his whole duty. None on this 
earth have more need for the exercise of mind than wo 
who cultivate the soil; every department of science is 
embraced in a proper fulfilment of our duties, and so 
wide-spi'ead and essential are the claims upon our 
minds, that without system no man should enter upon 
a farmer’s life; without system he cannot succeed; he 
may draw out a toilsome existence, but he cannot ac¬ 
cumulate wealth and be truly prosperous, independent 
and happy, unless system guides every project, and 
order presides over every department of his farm. 
Agricola. Seneca Co., N. Y., Nov., 1848. 
Agriculture and the Agriculturist. 
I remember to have seen it asserted something to 
this effect, by the late John Quincy Adams, that 11 if 
there was one business, profession, or calling, that was 
more independent than another—one that could be 
strictly called more noble—it was agriculture.” And 
this was doubtless true. Agriculture is the great 
centre around which all the other occupations of socie¬ 
ty revolve. Trade, commerce, manufactures—even 
the learned professions, owe their welfare to agricul¬ 
ture. Look at it from any point of view we may, the 
farmer, simple homespun name as that has become, 
wields a tremendous influence over society. Little 
does that man who is quietly cultivating his potato 
patch, or hoeing his coi'n-field, think of the importance 
of his calling. He is a part of a great whole that, to 
do without, would be to bring dearth and famine upon 
the land. Such is agriculture; and yet we often hear 
men complaining of it as a dull, monotonous occupa¬ 
tion—that it is destitute of the excitement and profits 
of trade—that farms, as a general thing, do not pay 
more than four per cent, interest—that it is a life of 
almost nnremitted physical exertion. To examine par¬ 
tially into these objections urged against agriculture, 
is the object of the present article. That some, or all 
of them, may, at first sight, appear true, is very pos¬ 
sible; but I am vei*y well convinced that a few mo¬ 
ments’ reflection will set matters in their true light. 
Is farming a dull, monotonous occupation ? I an¬ 
swer, no. To him whose only ambition is to become 
a good plowman, or to learn to do any of the merely 
mechanical parts of agricultui’e, in order to gain his 
daily bread—to him who has never said to himself, 
“ I wish t@ improve my mind as well as my soil,” ag¬ 
riculture may indeed be dull. But to that man who 
has entered upon it with nobler and loftier views—who, 
finding himself in the great laboratoiy of nature, sets 
himself at work with hand and mind to explore the 
hidden depths of earth—to him who unites scientific 
research to practical experience—who with a master 
mind turns eveiything upon his farm to good account— 
to him who is not weary in well-doing, but through 
difficulties and trials presses onward—to such a man, I 
say, agriculture offers a noble field for the exercise of 
mind. While he holds the plow with his hands, his 
head is at work; he thinks-—he plans—the hours fly 
swiftly away, for his mind is working as well as his 
body. 
Is agriculture destitute of the excitement and profits 
of trade ? Many will answer yes—but for my own 
pai't, I can find excitement enough in agriculture for 
my taste. In the changing seasons—in the calms and 
the storms—in the drouth and the deluge—in the in¬ 
fluence of weather on crops—there is enough for the 
exercise of hope and fear. As to profit, when we 
consider that it has been pretty cleaidy ascertained 
that out of eveiy hundred persons engaged in business, 
more than eighty fail during a period of fifteen or 
twenty years, I feel warranted in saying that in the 
end, considex-ing the amount of capital invested, the 
profits of agriculture are at least equal to those of 
mercantile pursuits. 
Do farms generally only pay four per cent, interest ? 
If so, how is it that so many men buy a farm, pay 
down one-third or one-half—leave the remainder on 
bond and mortgage, at six or seven per cent.,—pay 
their interest—support a family, consisting of a wife 
and three or four children—keep their farms and build¬ 
ings in good l'epair, and eventually pay off the whole 
amount due. This is not an uncommon case. Many 
have a very loose way of calculating what a farm pro¬ 
duces. They live from their farms, taking no account 
of what they get from it for family use, and only con¬ 
sidering what they sell as what their farms have pro¬ 
duced. 
Let a man with a small family have four thousand 
dollars invested in a farm; could he not live better 
upon that sum thus invested, than he could with the 
same amount invested at seven per cent, interest? No 
one can hesitate in an answer to this question. 
As to the hard work of agriculture—I glory in it. 
In these days, when men are turning and twisting and 
using every subterfuge to escape from labor, and live 
by their wits, I welcome that calling that brings man 
