THE CULTIVATOR. 
17 
“I know of no pursuit in which more real or important ser¬ 
vices can be rendered to any country, than by improving its 
Agriculture.”— Washington. 
“ Yes, the year is growing old, 
And his eye is pale and bleared 1 
Death, with frosty hand and cold, 
Plucks the old man by the beard, 
Sorely,—sorely! 
The leaves are falling, falling, 
Solemnly and slow ; 
Caw ! caw ! the rooks are calling, 
It is a sound of wo, 
A sound of wo!” 
The year Eighteen Hundred and Forty, with its bust¬ 
ling scenes, with its hopes and fears, with its good and 
evil, has passed away! Its dead are numbered—its in¬ 
cidents are registered—its bearing for weal or woe on 
the destinies of our race is decided. It is now for every 
one—the Christian, the philanthropist, as well as the 
business man, to “ strike the balance” of the departed 
year, and to ask himself, “ what is my relative position 
to that occupied by me at the close of 1839?—what have 
I achieved ?—where have I erred ?—how shall I add to 
the first—how retrieve the last ?” 
What has been achieved by the agriculturist? What 
are the “ signs of promise ?”—So far as the products of 
industry are concerned, the “ balance” is in his favor. 
A beneficent Providence has filled our garners to over¬ 
flowing. Throughout all of our broad and diversified 
country, extending over about twenty-five degrees of 
latitude, scarcely a crop has failed, except in small dis¬ 
tricts and to a limited extent. But this does not answer 
all the question. Those products which afford aliment 
to man, though the proximate object and reward of in¬ 
dustry, were not all that the agriculturist of 1840 was 
called upon to labor for. There was a higher and no¬ 
bler field for him to plow, to sow, and to reap. He was 
called upon to lend his efforts, to contribute his mite, 
toward the moral and social elevation of his calling. 
The Roman, in the better days of his country, knew 
something of the dignity of labor, but in the long dark¬ 
ness of Gothic night which followed, war and the chase 
were the only pursuits supposed to befit those of 
“ gentle blood.” In other words, butchery and rapine, 
during a portion of the time, and the pursuit of a hare 
or deer, with hounds and horns and troops of menials, 
during the remainder, were supposed to be the only oc¬ 
cupations becoming the “ high born and noble.” The 
tiller of the soil was a serf—a bondsman. The Feudal 
Age, with its barbaric pomp, has passed away. The 
plow has passed over the mouldering relics of baronial 
pride. The cultivator of the soil is no longer a beast of 
burthen; his occupation has risen from a mere handi¬ 
craft to a profession calling for the exercise of talents 
and the application of scientific principles ;—but not¬ 
withstanding all this, he has not yet attained to the true 
relative dignity of his station among his fellow men. 
Among the privileged orders of the old world, manu¬ 
al labor is still regarded as a degradation. In our own 
country, though the feeling does not prevail to the same 
extent, it is easy to discover traces of the same absurd 
and unmanly prejudice. How rarely do we witness an 
instance of a professional man or a merchant voluntari¬ 
ly educating his children to honest toil—to become pro¬ 
ducers instead of consumers ? And worse than this, 
the farmer himself, false to the dignity of his calling, 
not unfrequently exhibits an itching desire to save 
his children from a life of labor ! This diminution 
of producers and increase of consumers, is one of the 
marked causes of the disasters which have fallen on 
our nation. In this mania to escape labor, every pro¬ 
fession and every pursuit not requiring bodily toil, has 
been overstocked. What is more common than to wit¬ 
ness in some of our smallest villages, which should 
scarcely support two lawyers, a score of attorneys, ren¬ 
dered greedy by want, and obliged to promote litigation, 
to obtain their bread ! “Two doctors riding on one 
horse,” has passed into a proverb. Hundreds of bro¬ 
ken young merchants, many of them, the sons of farm¬ 
ers, and who started life with a capital, which, united 
with industry, would have made them prosperous and 
independent farmers, are now eating the bitter bread 
of poverty. Politics too, supports its class of non-pro¬ 
ducers, and its avenues to preferment are choked with 
crowds of eager votaries, four-fifths of whom must ne¬ 
cessarily be disappointed and even the fortunate few, 
at the first giration of the political wheel, are cast upon 
the_ world—out of business—and with habits acquired 
which would render business irksome, and connect the 
idea of manual labor with that of intolerable degrada¬ 
tion. How many such men might exclaim in the spi¬ 
rit of Woolsey—• 
“ Had I but served myself with half the zeal 
I serv’d my party , T should not, in mine age, 
Have been left naked to mine enemies.” 
There is another numerous class of non-producers 
not to be omitted in this catalogue,—the speculators-L 
those lords of paper domains—those rare architects 
who, like the Genii of Arabian tales, built up in a sin¬ 
gle night gorgeous cities in the distant wilderness—those 
alchemists who beat them of old, for they discovered 
that wondrous elixir (found to consist of avarice and 
credulity in equal parts) which transmuted every thing 
to gold—Bangor pine trees, and Rocky Mountain “ city 
lots!” But their gold, 
“ Like to the apples on the Dead Sea’s shore, 
All ashes to the taste,”— 
has proved but a sorry counterfeit! 
It is not my design to invoke prejudice against the 
learned professions, or against any honest calling. The 
merchant is a necessary instrument of the farmer. He 
works for the farmer and he receives his pay. He re¬ 
ceives his products or the avails of them—transports 
them to distant markets, and brings him back the pro¬ 
ducts of other countries and climes. The lawyer is a 
necessary evil so long as vice and perversity shall con¬ 
tinue to exist in the world. He is as necessary to repel 
the encroachments of vicious and quarrelsome men, as 
the dog and the rifle are to drive off the assaults of 
noxious beasts and vermin. We cannot dispense with 
the leech until the “ ills that flesh is heir to” have be¬ 
come extinct before that 1 ‘ physical perfectibility of the 
human species,” whose possibility is contended for by 
Doct. Graham ! It is to be feared, however, that the 
time of its accomplishment is yet far distant! 
Though these and various other classes of non-pro¬ 
ducers are to be tolerated, nay respected, where they 
work worthily in their vocation—though they are to be 
placed on a social equality with any other class of citi¬ 
zens, I ask are they to be looked up to as a superior or 
privileged caste, by the producers ? Shame on the 
thought! Does any farmer think he is placing his chil¬ 
dren in a “ higher rank,” “making gentlemen” of them, 
by making them lawyers, doctors, or merchants ? 
Shame on his abject soul! Does any young son of the 
soil court and repine after that patent of gentility which 
is conferred by the tailor, the jeweller, and the boot¬ 
maker, on the sons of idleness ? Away with such a 
serf in spirit!—let him begone to his idols ! 
And yet it must be confessed with sorrow and shame, 
there are farmers and farmers’ sons who entertain such 
sentiments as these in relation to their own calling. 
The very name of a profession dazzles their bewildered 
senses, and commands their respect, as stars, ribands, 
and other insignia of privileged rank receive the ho¬ 
mage of obsequious vassals in the old world. Who 
have the majority, consisting as it always must of the 
producers, ever delighted to honor ? Do they select the 
tried and trusty of their own class—the men whom they 
know, and in whose judgment they can confide ? In pe¬ 
riods of great national danger, such men will be called 
to the helm. Every student of history is aware that a 
large majority of the warriors and statesmen of the Re¬ 
volution were from the producing classes—were, before 
they were called upon to relinquish the implements of 
industry, laboring men. But look into the Legislature 
of this and other States for the last fifty years, and what 
proportion of producers do we find ? Is it contended 
that lawyers are the best qualified to form laws ? Look 
at the cumbrous details of chancery practice—the jarring 
systems of law and equity,* (as if law and equity might 
with propriety differ !)—the annual acts explanatory of 
other acts which were wrought up with so much “ le¬ 
gal skill," that even their own framers could not under¬ 
stand them !f—the multitude of laws “ which no man can 
number,” and which are constantly accumulating—look 
at these, things and then tell us if it is necessary to fill 
our Legislature with lawyers, because of their presump¬ 
tive knowledge in forming laws ? Is it contended that 
there is not sufficient talent to be found in the laboring 
classes ? I answer in the eloquent language of Chan- 
ning :—“ Real greatness has nothing to do with a man’s 
sphere. It does not lie in the magnitude of his outward 
agency, in the extent of the effect which he produces. 
* * * * A man brought up to an obscure trade, and 
hemmed in by the wants of a growing family, may, in 
his narrow sphere, perceive more clearly, discriminate 
more keenly, weigh evidence more wisely, seize on the 
right means more decisively, and have more presence 
of mind in difficulty, than another who has accumula¬ 
ted vast stores of knowledge by laborious study; and he 
has more of intellectual greatness. Many a man, who 
has gone but a few miles from home, understands hu¬ 
man nature better, detects motives and weighs charac¬ 
ter more sagaciously than another who has traveled 
over the known world and made a name by his reports 
of different countries.” 
I would not preach up a crusade against the legal or 
* Many of the States, have to a great extent, and others al¬ 
most entirely, done away with this practical absurdity, as it 
cannot but be regarded, notwithstanding the ingenious and 
extremely plausible arguments which every well read lawyer 
can offer in its support. In some of the States, as New-York, 
Virginia, South Carolina, and Michigan, the court of chance¬ 
ry is a distinct tribunal, and in others, as Connecticut, New- 
Jersey, Mandand, &c., courts of law possess ample equity ju¬ 
risdiction. The contrary is the case in Massachusetts, Penn¬ 
sylvania, Maine, Rhode Island, &c. Louisiana has, on the oth- 
e ’’ J,. ; adopted n simple, concise, and uniform code, based on 
the Civil Law. The increasing intelligence of the times must 
soon demand a similar reform in the other States. 
t For instance, the Non-Imprisonment Act, written by one 
of our most eminent and able jurists, was supposed to be so 
obscure in its provisions, as to require an explanatory commen¬ 
tary from the original drafter of the bill. The commentary 
was accordingly written—but lo! its correctness as an ex¬ 
planation of the true meaning and intent of the law, is denied 
by a great portion of the profession, and has been repeatedly 
decided against by the Supreme Court! | 
any other profession. I would not drag them down, but 
I would raise the producer up —raise him up in his own 
estimation. I would sound a trumpet peal in his ear to 
arise and assert the dignity of his calling. Man was 
formed to labor and to be useful. The primal curse of 
labor was a blessing in disguise. There should be no 
drones in the great hive of humanity. Labor ennobles 
its followers. The farmer as he goes forth in his fields 
to converse with nature and nature’s God, feels his soul 
dilate and expand under the benign influences about 
him. The bright sun, the refreshing breeze, the genial 
shower, are all blessings from a parent’s hand. As he 
casts his eye upon the distant prospect, glittering in the 
auroral light of spring, or fading into the sober hues of 
autumn, his feelings harmonize with the outward agen¬ 
cies which surround him. He stands as it were in the 
visible presence of his Creator, and passion and selfish¬ 
ness are rebuked. There is no hum of excited crowds 
to drown the small still voice of reason and conscience. 
He stands erect in the conscious dignity of a man, —ho¬ 
nest toil hath given him the nerves and physical vigor 
of a man—reason, reflection, conscience, and brotherly 
love hath expanded his soul to the dimensions of that 
of a man. 
The true farmer is a philanthropist. He labors, not 
only to provide for his own wants, and wants of his fa¬ 
mily, but he is urged by a constant desire to leave the 
world better and more beautiful than he found it—to 
add to the stock of human comforts, and render them 
accessible to the poor and the lowly. Does that strong 
love of rural life, which characterizes some of the most 
elevated men of our time, spring from the pleasure ex¬ 
perienced in the mere act of plowing or reaping fields, 
or the rearing of bullocks and swine—or because they 
deem those avocations the easiest method, in popular 
parlance, of “ getting a living?” Are such the induce¬ 
ments which have led educated and intelligent men to 
abandon professions which are the almost exclusive 
avenues to honor and distinction, for the rustic avoca¬ 
tions of the farm? I answer indignantly, no! They 
have preferred usefulness to fame. To make two blades 
of grass or two spears of grain grow where but one 
grew before, has been pronounced an achievement be¬ 
yond that of conquerors—and so it is. The warrior 
desolates the earth and fills it with wo, the agricultu¬ 
rist whose object it is to improve and advance his call¬ 
ing, increases its fertility, and thus multiplies the sour¬ 
ces of comfort and subsistence to his fellow men. He 
clothes the needy, and gives bread to the hungry, by 
rendering these things abundant and accessible. Every 
man who fertilizes one barren spot of earth, who re¬ 
claims one unwholesome swamp, or who discovers one 
improved process for cultivating the earth or increasing 
its products, has rendered a direct, tangible, and impor¬ 
tant benefit to his fellow men. He has not lived in 
vain, for he has rendered himself useful. He is a phi¬ 
lanthropist. 
Lord Townsend, who received the appellation of Tur- 
nep Townsend from the wits of a licentious Court, for 
having introduced the culture of that useful vegetable 
into England, has conferred a more lasting benefit on 
his country than all the popinjays who have spread their 
butterfly wings in the sunshine of Court from the days 
of William the Conqueror to those of Queen Victoria. 
Was it Doctor Johnson who remarked of some one 
sneeringly, that his conversation savored of bullocks? 
Yet the world would have been better off without a 
Johnson, than without a Colling or a Bakewell! Eve¬ 
ry generation produces its literary great, but not every 
generation nor every age produces men capable of ori¬ 
ginating great and signal improvements in those impor¬ 
tant departments of human industry which give subsist¬ 
ence to millions. Why should the breeder be sneered 
at? Is not the artist admired and caressed ? And what 
is the breeder but an artist in the great studio of nature ? 
The one chisels the shapeless marble into forms of beau¬ 
ty—the other moulds flesh and blood, and gives beauty 
and value to the unsightly and worthless. Is the latter 
pursuit then unworthy of a gentleman and man of taste ? 
Is he who strives to beautify and adorn this fair world, 
instead of a gallery or a palace—he who labors to re¬ 
store animated nature to her forms of primal beauty, 
engaged in a vulgar or tasteless pursuit ? It strikes me 
on the contrary that no occupation is more congenial to 
a pure and elevated taste. No man more than the ag¬ 
riculturist has constantly presented before him images 
of inward and outward beauty. Books and the treasures 
of art are as accessible to him as to others,—nature 
and his fellow man wear for him their loveliest aspect. 
The merchant is brought constantly in collision with 
venality and avarice—the politician with selfishness and 
ambition, and both learn to disesteem their fellow men 
The physician spends his life amid ulcerous sores, the 
pajigs and the moanings of decaying humanity, and na¬ 
ture must ever wear to him the aspect of a great char¬ 
nel house. The lawyer is called upon to probe the yet 
darker ulcers of the soul. His eye constantly rests up¬ 
on guilt, and his ear must drink in its polluted tale. 
Envy, malice, hate, avarice, and all the blacker pas¬ 
sions, assuming more specious names, claim him as 
their champion. If he resist, as some have nobly re¬ 
sisted, he must yet meet and combat them ; he must live 
in their polluted atmosphere ; he must feel that they are 
the elements of his subsistence ; he must feel that he 
lives on and out of the contention of his fellow men. 
The occupation of the agriculturist does not of itself 
necessarily bring him in contact, or but slightly, with 
man’s moral or physical infirmities. The world is not 
to him a great “ whited sepulchre.” Its sunny smile 
