Members of the
Agricultural Society and Citizens of Wisconsin:
Agricultural Fairs
are becoming an institution of the country; they are useful in more ways than
one; they bring us together, and thereby make us better acquainted, and better
friends than we otherwise would be. From the first appearance of man upon the
earth, down to very recent times, the words “stranger” and “enemy” were quite or almost,
synonymous. Long after civilized nations had defined robbery and murder as high
crimes, and had affixed severe punishments to them, when practiced among and
upon their own people respectively, it was deemed no offence, but even
meritorious, to rob, and murder, and enslave strangers, whether as
nations or as individuals. Even yet, this has not totally disappeared. The man
of the highest moral cultivation, in spite of all which abstract principle can
do, likes him whom he does know, much better than him whom he
does not know. To correct the evils, great and small, which spring
from want of sympathy, and from positive enmity, among strangers,
as nations, or as individuals, is one of the highest functions of civilization.
To this end our Agricultural Fairs contribute in no small degree. They make
more pleasant, and more strong, and more durable, the bond of social and
political union among us. Again, if, as Pope declares, “happiness is our
being's end and aim,” our Fairs contribute much to that end and aim, as
occasions of recreation—as holidays. Constituted as man is, he has positive
need of occasional recreation; and whatever can give him this, associated with
virtue and advantage, and free from vice and disadvantage, is a positive good.
Such recreation our Fairs afford. They are a present pleasure, to be followed
by no pain, as a consequence; they are a present pleasure, making the future
more pleasant.
But the chief use of
agricultural fairs is to aid in improving the great calling of agriculture,
in all it's departments, and minute divisions—to make mutual exchange of
agricultural discovery, information, and knowledge; so that, at the end, all may
know every thing, which may have been known to but one, or to but
a few, at the beginning—to bring together especially all which is
supposed to not be generally known, because of recent discovery, or invention.
And not only to
bring together, and to impart all which has been accidentally discovered
or invented upon ordinary motive; but, by exciting emulation, for premiums, and
for the pride and honor of success—of triumph, in some sort—to stimulate that discovery
and invention into extraordinary activity. In this, these Fairs are kindred to
the patent clause in the Constitution of the United States; and to the
department, and practical system, based upon that clause.
One feature, I
believe, of every fair, is a regular address. The Agricultural
Society of the young, prosperous, and soon to be, great State of Wisconsin, has
done me the high honor of selecting me to make that address upon this occasion—an
honor for which I make my profound, and grateful acknowledgement.
I presume I am not
expected to employ the time assigned me, in the mere flattery of the farmers,
as a class. My opinion of them is that, in proportion to numbers, they are
neither better nor worse than other people. In the nature of things they are
more numerous than any other class; and I believe there really are more
attempts at flattering them than any other; the reason of which I cannot
perceive, unless it be that they can cast more votes than any other. On
reflection, I am not quite sure that there is not cause of suspicion
against you, in selecting me, in some sort a politician, and in no sort a
farmer, to address you.
But farmers, being
the most numerous class, it follows that their interest is the largest
interest. It also follows that that interest is most worthy of all to be
cherished and cultivated—that if there be inevitable conflict between that
interest and any other, that other should yield.
Again, I suppose it
is not expected of me to impart to you much specific information on
Agriculture. You have no reason to believe, and do not believe, that I possess
it—if that were what you seek in this address, any one of your own number, or
class, would be more able to furnish it.
You, perhaps, do
expect me to give some general interest to the occasion; and to make some
general suggestions, on practical matters. I shall attempt nothing more. And in
such suggestions by me, quite likely very little will be new to you, and a
large part of the rest possibly already known to be erroneous.
My first suggestion
is an inquiry as to the effect of greater thoroughness in all
the departments of Agriculture than now prevails in the North-West—perhaps I
might say in America. To speak entirely within bounds, it is known that fifty
bushels of wheat, or one hundred bushels of Indian corn can be produced from an
acre. Less than a year ago I saw it stated that a man, by extraordinary care
and labor, had produced of wheat, what was equal to two hundred bushels from an
acre. But take fifty of wheat, and one hundred of corn, to be the possibility, and
compare with it the actual crops of the country. Many years ago I saw it stated
in a Patent Office Report that eighteen bushels was the average crop
throughout the wheat growing region of the United States; and this year an
intelligent farmer of Illinois, assured me that he did not believe the land
harvested in that State this season, had yielded more than an average of eight
bushels to the acre. The brag crop I heard of in our vicinity was two thousand
bushels from ninety acres. Many crops were thrashed, producing no more than
three bushels to the acre; much was cut, and then abandoned as not worth
threshing; and much was abandoned as not worth cutting. As to Indian corn,
and, indeed, most other crops, the case has not been much better. For the last
four years I do not believe the ground planted with corn in Illinois, has
produced an average of twenty bushels to the acre. It is true, that heretofore
we have had better crops, with no better cultivators; but I believe it is also
true that the soil has never been pushed up to one-half of its capacity.
What would be the
effect upon the farming interest, to push the soil up to something near its
full capacity? Unquestionably it will take more labor to produce fifty bushels
from an acre, than it will to produce ten bushels from the
same acre. But will it take more labor to produce fifty bushels from one acre,
than from five? Unquestionably, thorough cultivation will require
more labor to the acre; but will it require more to the bushel?
If it should require just as much to the bushel, there are
some probable, and several certain, advantages in favor
of the thorough practice. It is probable it would develope those unknown
causes, or develope unknown cures for those causes, which of late years have
cut down our crops below their former average. It is almost certain, I think,
that in the deeper plowing, analysis of soils, experiments with manures, and
varieties of seeds, observance of seasons, and the like, these cases [causes?] would
be found. It is certain that thorough cultivation would spare half or more than
half, the cost of land, simply because the same product would be got from half,
or from less than half the quantity of land. This proposition is self-evident,
and can be made no plainer by repetitions or illustrations. The cost of
land is a great item, even in new countries; and constantly grows greater and
greater, in comparison with other items, as the country grows older.
It also would spare a
large proportion of the making and maintaining of inclosures—the same, whether
these inclosures should be hedges, ditches, or fences. This again, is a heavy
item—heavy at first, and heavy in its continual demand for repairs. I remember
once being greatly astonished by an apparently authentic exhibition of the
proportion the cost of inclosures bears to all the other expenses of the
farmer; though I can not remember exactly what that proportion was. Any farmer,
if he will, can ascertain it in his own case, for himself.
Again, a great
amount of “locomotion” is spared by thorough cultivation. Take fifty bushels of
wheat, ready for the harvest, standing upon a single acre, and
it can be harvested in any of the known ways, with less than half the labor
which would be required if it were spread over five acres.
This would be true, if cut by the old hand sickle; true, to a greater extent if
by the scythe and cradle; and to a still greater extent, if by the machines now
in use. These machines are chiefly valuable, as a means of substituting animal
power for the power of men in this branch of farm work. In the highest degree
of perfection yet reached in applying the horse power to harvesting, fully
nine-tenths of the power is expended by the animal in carrying himself and
dragging the machine over the field, leaving certainly not more than one-tenth
to be applied directly to the only end of the whole operation—the gathering in
the grain, and clipping of the straw. When grain is very thin on the ground, it
is always more or less intermingled with weeds, chess and the like, and a large
part of the power is expended in cutting these. It is plain that when the crop
is very thick upon the ground, the larger proportion of the power is
directly applied to gathering in and cutting it; and the smaller, to that which
is totally useless as an end. And what I have said of harvesting is true, in a
greater or less degree of mowing, plowing, gathering in of crops generally,
and, indeed, of almost all farm work.
The effect of
thorough cultivation upon the farmer's own mind, and, in reaction through his
mind, back upon his business, is perhaps quite equal to any other of its
effects. Every man is proud of what he does well; and no man is
proud of what he does not do well. With the former, his heart
is in his work; and he will do twice as much of it with less fatigue. The
latter performs a little imperfectly, looks at it in disgust, turns from it,
and imagines himself exceedingly tired. The little he has done, comes to
nothing, for want of finishing.
The man who produces
a good full crop will scarcely ever let any part of it go to waste. He will
keep up the enclosure about it, and allow neither man nor beast to trespass
upon it. He will gather it in due season and store it in perfect security. Thus
he labors with satisfaction, and saves himself the whole fruit of his
labor. The other, starting with no purpose for a full crop, labors less, and
with less satisfaction; allows his fences to fall, and cattle to trespass;
gathers not in due season, or not at all. Thus the labor he has performed, is
wasted away, little by little, till in the end, he derives scarcely anything
from it.
The ambition for
broad acres leads to poor farming, even with men of energy. I scarcely ever
knew a mammoth farm to sustain itself; much less to return a profit upon the
outlay. I have more than once known a man to spend a respectable fortune upon
one; fail and leave it; and then some man of more modest aims, get a small
fraction of the ground, and make a good living upon it. Mammoth farms are like
tools or weapons, which are too heavy to be handled. Ere long they are thrown
aside, at a great loss.
The successful
application of steam power, to farm work is a desideratum—especially
a Steam Plow. It is not enough, that a machine operated by steam, will really
plow. To be successful, it must, all things considered, plow better than
can be done with animal power. It must do all the work as well, and cheaper;
or more rapidly, so as to get through more perfectly in
season; or in some way afford an advantage over plowing with animals, else
it is no success. I have never seen a machine intended for a Steam Plow. Much
praise, and admiration, are bestowed upon some of them; and they may be, for
aught I know, already successful; but I have not perceived the demonstration of
it. I have thought a good deal, in an abstract way, about a Steam Plow. That
one which shall be so contrived as to apply the larger proportion of its
power to the cutting and turning the soil, and the smallest, to the moving
itself over the field, will be the best one. A very small stationary engine
would draw a large gang of plows through the ground from a short distance to
itself; but when it is not stationary, but has to move along like a horse,
dragging the plows after it, it must have additional power to carry itself; and
the difficulty grows by what is intended to overcome it; for what adds power
also adds size, and weight to the machine, thus increasing again, the demand
for power. Suppose you should construct the machine so as to cut a succession
of short furrows, say a rod in length, transversely to the course the machine
is locomoting, something like the shuttle in weaving. In such case the whole
machine would move North only the width of a furrow, while in length, the
furrow would be a rod from East to West. In such case, a very large proportion
of the power, would be applied to the actual plowing. But in this, too, there
would be a difficulty, which would be the getting of the plow into,
and out of, the ground, at the ends of all these short furrows.
I believe, however,
ingenious men will, if they have not already, overcome the difficulty I
have suggested. But there is still another, about which I am less sanguine. It
is the supply of fuel, and especially of water, to make
steam. Such supply is clearly practicable, but can the expense of it be borne?
Steamboats live upon the water, and find their fuel at stated places. Steam
mills, and other stationary steam machinery, have their stationary supplies of
fuel and water. Railroad locomotives have their regular wood and water station. But
the steam plow is less fortunate. It does not live upon the water; and if
it be once at a water station, it will work away from it, and when it gets away can
not return, without leaving its work, at a great expense of its time and
strength. It will occur that a wagon and horse team might be employed to supply
it with fuel and water; but this, too, is expensive; and the question recurs, “can
the expense be borne?” When this is added to all other expenses, will not the
plowing cost more than in the old way?
It is to be hoped
that the steam plow will be finally successful, and if it shall be, “thorough
cultivation”—putting the soil to the top of its capacity—producing the
largest crop possible from a given quantity of ground—will be most favorable to
it. Doing a large amount of work upon a small quantity of ground, it will be,
as nearly as possible, stationary while working, and as free as possible from
locomotion; thus expending its strength as much as possible upon its work, and
as little as possible in travelling. Our thanks, and something more substantial
than thanks, are due to every man engaged in the effort to produce a successful
steam plow. Even the unsuccessful will bring something to light, which, in the
hands of others, will contribute to the final success. I have not pointed out
difficulties, in order to discourage, but in order that being seen, they may be
the more readily overcome.
The world is agreed
that labor is the source from which human wants are mainly
supplied. There is no dispute upon this point. From this point, however, men
immediately diverge. Much disputation is maintained as to the best way of
applying and controlling the labor element. By some it is assumed that
labor is available only in connection with capital—that nobody labors, unless
somebody else, owning capital, somehow, by the use of that capital, induces
him to do it. Having assumed this, they proceed to consider whether it is best
that capital shall hire laborers, and thus induce them to work
by their own consent; or buy them, and drive them to it
without their consent. Having proceeded so far they naturally conclude that all
laborers are necessarily either hired laborers, or slaves.
They further assume that whoever is once a hired laborer, is
fatally fixed in that condition for life; and thence again that his condition
is as bad as, or worse than that of a slave. This is the “mud-sill”
theory.
But another
class of reasoners hold the opinion that there is no such relation
between capital and labor, as assumed; and that there is no such thing as a
freeman being fatally fixed for life, in the condition of a hired laborer, that
both these assumptions are false, and all inferences from them groundless. They
hold that labor is prior to, and independent of, capital; that, in fact,
capital is the fruit of labor, and could never have existed if labor had
not first existed—that labor can exist without capital, but
that capital could never have existed without labor. Hence they hold that
labor is the superior—greatly the superior—of capital.
They do not deny
that there is, and probably always will be, a relation between
labor and capital. The error, as they hold, is in assuming that the whole labor
of the world exists within that relation. A few men own capital; and that few
avoid labor themselves, and with their capital, hire, or buy, another few to
labor for them. A large majority belong to neither class—neither work for
others, nor have others working for them. Even in all our slave States,
except South Carolina, a majority of the whole people of all colors, are
neither slaves nor masters. In these Free States, a large majority are
neither hirers nor hired. Men, with their families—wives,
sons and daughters—work for themselves, on their farms, in their houses and in
their shops, taking the whole product to themselves, and asking no favors of
capital on the one hand, nor of hirelings or slaves on the other. It is not
forgotten that a considerable number of persons mingle their own labor with
capital; that is, labor with their own hands, and also buy slaves or hire
freemen to labor for them; but this is only a mixed, and not
a distinct class. No principle stated is disturbed by the
existence of this mixed class. Again, as has already been said, the opponents
of the “mud-sill” theory insist that there is not, of necessity, any
such thing as the free hired laborer being fixed to that condition for life.
There is demonstration for saying this. Many independent men, in this assembly,
doubtless a few years ago were hired laborers. And their case is almost if not
quite the general rule.
The prudent,
penniless beginner in the world, labors for wages awhile, saves a surplus with
which to buy tools or land, for himself; then labors on his own account
another while, and at length hires another new beginner to help him. This, say
its advocates, is free labor—the just and generous, and
prosperous system, which opens the way for all—gives hope to all, and energy,
and progress, and improvement of condition to all. If any continue through life
in the condition of the hired laborer, it is not the fault of the system, but
because of either a dependent nature which prefers it, or improvidence,
folly, or singular misfortune. I have said this much about the elements of
labor generally, as introductory to the consideration of a new phase which that
element is in process of assuming. The old general rule was that educated people
did not perform manual labor. They managed to eat their bread, leaving the toil
of producing it to the uneducated. This was not an insupportable evil to the
working bees, so long as the class of drones remained very small. But now,
especially in these free States, nearly all are educated—quite too nearly all,
to leave the labor of the uneducated, in any wise adequate to the support
of the whole. It follows from this that henceforth educated people must
labor. Otherwise, education itself would become a positive and intolerable
evil. No country can sustain, in idleness, more than a small percentage of
its numbers. The great majority must labor at something productive. From
these premises the problem springs, “How can labor and education be
the most satisfactorily combined?”
By the “mud-sill”
theory it is assumed that labor and education are incompatible; and any
practical combination of them impossible. According to that theory, a blind
horse upon a tread-mill, is a perfect illustration of what a laborer should be—all
the better for being blind, that he could not tread out of place, or kick
understandingly. According to that theory, the education of laborers, is
not only useless, but pernicious, and dangerous. In fact, it is, in some sort,
deemed a misfortune that laborers should have heads at all. Those same heads
are regarded as explosive materials, only to be safely kept in damp places, as
far as possible from that peculiar sort of fire which ignites them. A Yankee
who could invent a strong handed man without a head would
receive the everlasting gratitude of the “mud-sill” advocates.
But Free Labor says “no!”
Free Labor argues that, as the Author of man makes every individual with one
head and one pair of hands, it was probably intended that heads and hands
should co-operate as friends; and that that particular head, should direct and
control that particular pair of hands. As each man has one mouth to be fed, and
one pair of hands to furnish food, it was probably intended that that
particular pair of hands should feed that particular mouth—that each head is
the natural guardian, director, and protector of the hands and mouth
inseparably connected with it; and that being so, every head should be
cultivated, and improved, by whatever will add to its capacity for performing
its charge. In one word Free Labor insists on universal education.
I have so far stated
the opposite theories of “Mud-Sill” and “Free Labor” without declaring any preference
of my own between them. On an occasion like this I ought not to declare any. I
suppose, however, I shall not be mistaken, in assuming as a fact, that the
people of Wisconsin prefer free labor, with its natural companion, education.
This leads to the
further reflection, that no other human occupation opens so wide a field for
the profitable and agreeable combination of labor with cultivated thought, as
agriculture. I know of nothing so pleasant to the mind, as the discovery of
anything which is at once new and valuable—nothing
which so lightens and sweetens toil, as the hopeful pursuit of such discovery.
And how vast, and how varied a field is agriculture, for such discovery. The
mind, already trained to thought, in the country school, or higher school,
cannot fail to find there an exhaustless source of profitable enjoyment.
Every blade of grass is a study; and to produce two, where there was but one,
is both a profit and a pleasure. And not grass alone; but soils, seeds, and
seasons—hedges, ditches, and fences, draining, droughts, and irrigation—plowing,
hoeing, and harrowing—reaping, mowing, and threshing—saving crops, pests of
crops, diseases of crops, and what will prevent or cure them—implements,
utensils, and machines, their relative merits, and [how] to improve them—hogs,
horses, and cattle—sheep, goats, and poultry—trees, shrubs, fruits, plants, and
flowers—the thousand things of which these are specimens—each a world of study
within itself.
In all this,
book-learning is available. A capacity, and taste, for reading, gives access to
whatever has already been discovered by others. It is the key, or one of the
keys, to the already solved problems.
And not only so. It
gives a relish, and facility, for successfully pursuing the [yet] unsolved
ones. The rudiments of science, are available, and highly valuable. Some
knowledge of Botany assists in dealing with the vegetable world—with all
growing crops. Chemistry assists in the analysis of soils, selection, and
application of manures, and in numerous other ways. The mechanical branches of
Natural Philosophy, are ready help in almost every-thing; but especially in
reference to implements and machinery.
The thought recurs that
education—cultivated thought—can best be combined with agricultural labor, or
any labor, on the principle of thorough work—that careless,
half performed, slovenly work, makes no place for such combination. And
thorough work, again, renders sufficient, the smallest quantity of ground to
each man. And this again, conforms to what must occur in a world less inclined
to wars, and more devoted to the arts of peace, than heretofore. Population must
increase rapidly—more rapidly than in former times—and ere long the most
valuable of all arts, will be the art of deriving a comfortable subsistence
from the smallest area of soil. No community whose every member possesses this
art, can ever be the victim of oppression in any of its forms. Such community
will be alike independent of crowned-kings, money-kings, and land-kings.
But, according to
your programme, the awarding of premiums awaits the closing of this address.
Considering the deep interest necessarily pertaining to that performance, it
would be no wonder if I am already heard with some impatience. I will detain
you but a moment longer. Some of you will be successful, and such will need but
little philosophy to take them home in cheerful spirits; others will be
disappointed, and will be in a less happy mood. To such, let it be said, “Lay
it not too much to heart.” Let them adopt the maxim, “Better luck next time;”
and then, by renewed exertion, make that better luck for themselves.
And by the
successful, and the unsuccessful, let it be remembered, that while occasions
like the present, bring their sober and durable benefits, the exultations and
mortifications of them, are but temporary; that the victor shall soon be the
vanquished, if he relax in his exertion; and that the vanquished this year, may
be victor the next, in spite of all competition.
It is said an
Eastern monarch once charged his wise men to invent him a sentence, to be
ever in view, and which should be true and appropriate in all times and
situations. They presented him the words: “And this, too, shall pass away.”
How much it expresses! How chastening in the hour of pride!—how consoling in
the depths of affliction! “And this, too, shall pass away.” And yet let us hope
it is not quite true. Let us hope, rather, that by the best
cultivation of the physical world, beneath and around us; and the intellectual
and moral world within us, we shall secure an individual, social, and political
prosperity and happiness, whose course shall be onward and upward, and which,
while the earth endures, shall not pass away.
SOURCE: Roy P. Basler,
Editor, Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln,
Vol. 3, pp. 471-82
