Part 3

Its order to supply the materials necessary for animal and vegetable nutrition, we require alternate changes--the former in the diet, and the latter in the soil. Experience has proved that the cultivation of a plant for several successive years on the same soil impoverishes it, or the plant degenerates. On the contrary, if a piece of land be suffered to lie uncultivated for a short time, it will yield, in spite of the loss of time, a greater quantity of grain; for, during the interval of rest, the soil regains its original equilibrium. It has been satisfactorily demonstrated that a fruit-tree cannot be made to grow and bring forth good fruit on the same spot where another of the same species has stood; at least not until a lapse of years. This is a fact worth knowing, for it applies more or less to all forms of vegetation. Another fact of experience is, that some plants thrive on the same soil only after a lapse of years, while others may be cultivated in close succession, _provided the soil is kept in equilibrium by artificial means_; these are subsoiling, &c. Some kinds of plants improve the sod, while others impoverish or exhaust it. Professor Liebig tells us, "turnips, cabbages, beets, oats, and rye are considered to belong to the class which impoverish the soil; while by wheat, hops, madder, hemp, and poppies, it is supposed to be entirely exhausted." Many of our farmers expend large sums of money in the purchase of manure, with a view of improving the soil; and they suppose that their crops will be abundant in proportion to the amount of manure; yet many have discovered that, in spite of the extra expense and labor, the produce of their farms decreased.

The alternation of crops seems destined to effect a great change in agriculture. A French chemist informs us that the roots of plants imbibe matter of every kind from the soil, and thus necessarily abstract a number of substances, which are not adapted to the purposes of nutrition, and that they are ultimately expelled by the excretory vessels, and return to the soil as excrement. The excrementitious portion of the food also returns to the soil. Now, as excrement cannot be assimilated by the same animal or plant that ejected it, without danger to the organs of digestion or eliminations, it follows that the more vegetable excrement the soil contains, the more unfitted must it be for plants of the same species; yet these excrementitious matters may, however, still be capable of assimilation by another kind of plant, which would absorb them from the soil, and render it again fertile for the first. In connection with this, it has been observed that several plants will flourish when growing beside each other; but it is not good policy to sow two kinds of seed together: on the other hand, some plants mutually prevent each other's development. The same happens if young cattle are suffered to graze and sleep in the barn together; the one lives at the expense of the other, which soon shows evidences of disease. The injurious effects of permitting young children to sleep with aged relatives are known to many of our readers; yet some parents see their children sicken and die without knowing the why or wherefore. From such facts as these,--which we might multiply to an indefinite extent, were it necessary,--we learn that nature's laws are immutable and uncompromising; and woe be to the man that transgresses them: they are a part of the divine law, which cannot be set at nought with impunity.

Ignorance on these important subjects has existed too long: yet we perceive in the distant horizon a ray of intellectual light, streaming through our schools and agricultural societies. The result will be, that succeeding generations will be better acquainted with nature's laws, from which shall flow untold blessings. Chemistry teaches us that animals and vegetables are composed of a vast number of different compounds, which are nearly all produced by the same elementary principles. Vegetables consist of carbon, hydrogen, and oxygen; and the same substances, with the addition of nitrogen, are the principal constituents of the animal economy. In a word, all the constituents of animal creation have actually been discovered in vegetables: this has, we presume, led to the conclusion that "all flesh is grass."

Many horticulturists complain that certain fruits and seeds have "_run out_," or degenerated. Has the stately oak, the elm, or the cedar degenerated? No. Each has preserved its identity, and will continue so to do, at least just as the Divine Artist intended they should, unless man, by his fancied improvements, interferes; and here, reader, permit us to ask if you ever knew a piece of nature's mechanism improved by human agency. Can we make a light better adapted to the wants of animate and inanimate creation than that which the sun, moon, and stars afford? Whenever we attempt to improve on immutable laws, as they are written on the face of creation, that moment we prevent the full and free play of these laws. Hence the practice of grafting scions of delicious fruit-trees on stock of an inferior order compromises its identity; and successive crops will show unmistakable evidences of encroachment. A son of the lamented Mr. Phinney tells us that he had some very fine sows, that he was desirous of breeding from, with a view of making "improvements." He bred in a close degree of relationship: in a short time, to use his own expression, "their sides appeared like two boards nailed together." Does the farmer wish to know how to prevent seeds and fruit "running out"? Let him study chemistry. Chemistry furnishes the information; it also teaches the husbandman the fact, that to put a plant, composed of certain essential elements, on a soil destitute of those elements,--or to graft a scion, requiring a certain amount of sap or juice, on a stock destitute of such sap or juice, expecting that they will germinate, grow to perfection, and preserve their identity,--would be just as absurd as to expect that a dry sow would nourish a sucking pig.

Agriculture being based on the equilibrium of the soils, a knowledge of chemistry is indispensable to every one who is desirous of keeping pace with the reforms of the age; for it is through the medium of that science alone that we are enabled to ascertain with certainty how this equilibrium is disturbed by the growth of vegetation. Then is it not a matter of deep interest to the farmer to know how this equilibrium is restored?

Does the farmer wish to know what kind of soil is necessary to nourish and mature a plant? Chemistry solves the problem. Does the farmer wish to know how to improve the soil? Let him refer to chemistry. Chemistry will teach the farmer how to analyze the soil; by that means he will learn which of the constituent elements of the plants and soil are constant, and which are changeable. By making an analysis of the soil at different periods, through the process of germination, growth, and maturity, we are enabled to ascertain the amount of excretory elements given out. Bergman tells us that he found, by analysis, in "100 parts of fertile soil, coarse silex 30 parts, silecia 30 parts, carbonate of lime 30 parts:" hence the fertility of the soil diminishes in proportion as one or the other of these elements predominates.

Ashes of wheat contain, among other elementary substances, 48 parts of silecia. Now, what farmer could expect to raise a good crop of wheat from a soil destitute of silecious earth, since this earth constitutes a large amount of the earthy part of wheat? There is no barrier to agricultural improvement so effectual as for farmers to continue their old customs purely because their forefathers did so. But prejudices are fast dying away before the rays of intellectual illumination; the farmers are fast seceding from the supposed infallibles of their forefathers, and will soon become "book" as well as practical husbandmen. "Book farming," assisted by practical knowledge, teaches that manures require admixture of milder materials to mitigate their force; for some of them communicate a disgusting or offensive quality to vegetables. They are charged with imparting a biting and acrimonious taste to radishes and turnips. Potatoes and grapes are known to borrow the foul taint of the ground. Millers observe a strong, disagreeable odor in the meal of wheat that grew upon land highly charged with the rotten recrements of cities. Stable dung is known to impart a disagreeable flavor to vegetables.

The same effects may be illustrated in the animal kingdom. Ducks are rendered so ill tasted from stuffing down garbage as sometimes to be offensive to the palate when cooked. The quality of pork is known by the food of the swine, and the peculiar flavor of water-fowl is rationally traced to the fish they devour. Thus a portion of the elements of manure and nutrimental matter passes into the living bodies without being entirely subdued. For example, we can alter the color of the cow's milk by mixing madder or saffron in the food; the odor may be influenced by garlic; the flavor may be altered by pine and wormwood; and lastly, the medicinal effect may be influenced.

In the cultivation of grass the farmer will find it to his advantage to cultivate none but the best kinds; the whole pasture lands will then be filled with valuable grass seeds. The number of grass seeds worth cultivating is but few, and these should be sown separately. It is bad policy to sow different kinds of grass seed together--just as bad as to sow wheat, oats, turnips, and corn promiscuously.

The reason why the farmers, as a community, will be benefited by sowing none but the best seed is, because grass seeds are distributed through neighboring pastures by the winds, and there take root. Now, if the neighboring pastures abound in inferior grasses, the fields will soon be filled with useless plants, which are very difficult to be got rid of. We refer those of our readers who desire to make themselves acquainted with animal chemistry to Professor Liebig's work on that science.

ON BREEDING.

Large sums of money have, from time to time, been expended with a view of improving stock, and many superior cattle have been introduced into this country; yet, after a few generations, the beautiful form and superior qualities of the originals are nearly lost, and the importer finds to his cost that the produce is no better than that of his neighbors. What are the causes of this deterioration? We are told--and experience confirms the fact--that "like produces like." Good qualities and perfect organization are perpetuated by a union of animals possessing those properties: of course it follows, that malformation, hereditary taints, and vices are transmitted and aggravated.

The destructive practice of breeding "in and in," or, in other words, selecting animals of the same family, is one of the first causes of degeneracy; and this destructive practice has proved equally unfortunate in the human family. Physical defects are the result of the intermarriage of near relatives. In Spain, the deformed and feeble state of the aristocracy arises from their alliances being confined to the same class of relatives through successive generations. But we need not go to Spain to verify such facts. Go into our churchyards, and read on the tombstones the names of thousands of infants,--gems withered in the bud,--young men, and maidens, cut down and consigned to a premature grave; and then prove, if you can, that early marriages and near alliances are not the chief causes of this great mortality.

Mr. Colman, in an article on live stock, says, "There seems to be a limit beyond which no person can go. The particular breed may be altered and improved, but an entirely new breed cannot be produced; and in every departure from the original there is a constant tendency to revert back to it. The stock of the improved Durham cattle seems to establish this fact. If we have the true history of it, it is a cross of a Teeswater bull with a Galloway cow. The Teeswater or Yorkshire stock are a large, coarse-boned animal: the object of this cross was to get a smaller bone and greater compactness. By attempting to carry this improvement, if I may so call it, still further by breeding continually in and in, that is, with members of the same family, in a close degree of affinity, the power of continuing the species seems to become extinct; at least it approximates to such a result. On the other hand, by wholly neglecting all selection, and without an occasional good cross with an animal of some foreign blood, there appears a tendency to revert back to the large-boned, long-legged animal, from which the _improvement_ began.

"There are, however, several instances of superior animals bred in the closest affinity; whilst, in a very great majority of cases, the failure has been excessive."

Overtaxing the generative powers of the male is another cause of deterioration. The reader is probably aware of the woful results attending too frequent sexual intercourse. If he has not given this subject the attention it demands, then let him read the records of our lunatic asylums: they tell a sad tale of woe, and prove to demonstration that, before the blast of this dire tornado, _sexual excess_, lofty minds, the suns and stars of our intellectual world, are suddenly blotted out. It spares neither age, sex, profession, nor kind. Dr. White relates a case which substantiates the truth of our position. "The Prince of Wales, who afterwards became George the Fourth, had a stud horse of very superior qualities. His highness caused a few of his own mares to be bred to this stallion, and the produce proved every way worthy of the sire. This horse was kept at Windsor for public covering without charge, except the customary groom's fee of half a guinea. The groom, anxious to pocket as many half guineas as possible, persuaded all he could to avail themselves of the prince's liberality. The result was, that, being kept in a stable without sufficient exercise, and covering nearly one hundred mares yearly, the stock, although tolerably promising in their early age, shot up into lank, weakly, awkward, good-for-nothing creatures, to the entire ruin of the horse's character and sire. Some gentlemen, aware of the cause, took pains to explain it, proving the correctness of their statement by reference to the first of the horses got, which were among the best horses in England."

There is no doubt but that brutes are often endowed with extraordinary powers for sexual indulgence; yet, when kept for the purpose alluded to, without sufficient muscular exercise,--breathing impure air, and living on the fat of the farm,--his services in constant requisition,--then it is no wonder, that if, under these circumstances, the offspring are weak and inefficient.

Professor Youatt recommends that "valuable qualities once established, which it is desirable to keep up, should thereafter be preserved by occasional crosses with the best animals to be had of the same breed, but of a different family. This is the great secret which has maintained the blood horse in his great superiority."

The live stock of our farmers frequently degenerates in a very short space of time. The why and the wherefore is not generally understood; neither will it be, until animal physiology shall be better understood than it is at the present time. Men are daily violating the laws of animal organization in more ways than one, in the breeding, rearing, and general management of all kinds of domestic animals,--until the different breeds are so amalgamated, that, in many cases, it is a difficult task to ascertain, with any degree of certainty, their pedigree. If a farmer has in his possession a bull of a favorite breed, the neighboring stock-raisers avail themselves of his bullship's services by sending as many cows to him as possible: the consequence is, that the offspring got in the latter part of the season are good for nothing. The cow also, at the time of impregnation, may be in a state of debility, owing to some derangement in the organs of digestion; if so, impregnation is very likely to make the matter worse; for great sympathy exists between the organs of generation and those of digestion, and females of every order suffer more or less from a disturbed state of the stomach during the early months of pregnancy. In fact, during the whole stage they should be considered far from a state of health. Add to this the fact that impregnated cows are milked, (not generally, yet we know of such cases:) the foetus is thus deprived of its due share of nourishment, and the extra nutrimental agents, necessary for its growth and development, must be furnished at the expense of the mother. She, in her turn, soon shows unmistakable evidences of this "robbing Peter to pay Paul" system, by her sunken eye, loss of flesh, &c., and often, before she has seen her sixth month of pregnancy, liberates the foetus by a premature birth--in short, pays the penalty of disobedience to the immutable law of nature. On the other hand, should such a cow go safely through the whole period of gestation and parturition, the offspring will not be worth keeping, and the milk of the former will lack, in some measure, those constituents which go to make good milk, and without which it is almost worthless for making butter or cheese. A cow should never be bred from unless she shall be in good health and flesh. If she cannot be fatted, then she may be spayed. (See article _Spaying Cows_.) By that means, her health will improve, and she will be made a permanent milker. Degeneracy may arise from physical defects on the part of the bull. It is well known that infirmities, faults, and defects are communicated by the sexual congress to the parties as well as their offspring. Hence a bull should never be bred to unless he possesses the requisite qualifications of soundness, form, size, and color. There are a great number of good-for-nothing bulls about the country, whose services can be had for a trifle; under these circumstances, and when they can be procured without the trouble of sending the cow even a short distance, it will be difficult to effect a change.

If the farming community desire to put a stop to this growing evil, let them instruct their representatives to advocate the enactment of a law prohibiting the breeding to bulls or stallions unless they shall possess the necessary qualifications.

THE BULL.

Mr. Lawson gives us the following description of a good bull. It would be difficult to find one corresponding in all its details to this description; yet it will give the reader an idea of what a good bull ought to be. "The head of the bull should be rather long, and muzzle fine; his eyes lively and prominent; his ears long and thin; his horns white; his neck rising with a gentle curve from the shoulders, and small and fine where it joins the head; his shoulders moderately broad at the top, joining full to his chine and chest backwards, and to the neck-vein forwards; his bosom open; breast broad, and projecting well before his legs; his arms or fore thighs muscular, and tapering to his knees; his legs straight, clean, and very fine boned; his chine and chest so full as to leave no hollows behind the shoulders; the plates strong, to keep his belly from sinking below the level of his breast; his back or loin broad, straight, and flat; his ribs rising one above another, in such a manner that the last rib shall be rather the highest, leaving only a small space to the hips, the whole forming a round or barrel-like carcass; his hips should be wide placed, round or globular, and a little higher than the back; the quarters (from the hips to the rump) long, and, instead of being square, as recommended by some, they should taper gradually from the hips backwards; rump close to the tail; the tail broad, well haired, and set on so as to be in the same horizontal line with his back."

VALUE OF DIFFERENT BREEDS OF COWS.

Mr. Culley, in speaking of the relative value of long and short horns, says, "The long-horns excel in the thickness and firm texture of the hide, in the length and closeness of the hair, in their beef being finer grained and more mixed and marbled than that of the short-horns, in weighing more in proportion to their size, and in giving richer milk; but they are inferior to the short-horns in giving a less quantity of milk, in weighing less upon the whole, in affording less fat when killed, in being generally slower feeders, in being coarser made, and more leathery or bullish in the under side of the neck. In a few words, the long-horns excel in hide, hair, and quality of beef; the short-horns in the quantity of beef, fat, and milk. Each breed has long had, and probably may have, their particular advocates; but if I may hazard a conjecture, is it not probable that both kinds may have their particular advantages in different situations? Why not the thick, firm hides, and long, closer set hair, of the one kind be a protection and security against tempestuous winds and heavy fogs and rains, while a regular season and mild climate are more suitable to the constitutions of the short-horns? But it has hitherto been the misfortune of the short-horned breeders to seek the largest and biggest boned ones for the best, without considering that those are the best that bring the most money for a given quantity of food. However, the ideas of our short-horned breeders being now more enlarged, and their minds more open to conviction, we may hope in a few years to see great improvements made in that breed of cattle.

"I would recommend to breeders of cattle to find out which breed is the most profitable, and which are best adapted to the different situations, and endeavor to improve that breed to the utmost, rather than try to unite the particular qualities of two or more distinct breeds by crossing, which is a precarious practice, for we generally find the produce inherit the coarseness of both breeds, and rarely attain the good properties which the pure distinct breeds individually possess.

"Short-horned cows yield much milk; the long-horned give less, but the cream is more abundant and richer. The same quantity of milk also yields a greater proportion of cheese. The Polled or Galloway cows are excellent milkers, and their milk is rich. The Suffolk duns are much esteemed for the abundance of their milk, and the excellence of the butter it produces. Ayrshire or Kyloe cows are much esteemed in Scotland; and in England the improved breed of the long-horned cattle is highly prized in many dairy districts. Every judicious selector, however, will always, in making his choice, keep in view not only the different sons and individuals of the animal, but also the nature of the farm on which the cows are to be put, and the sort of manufactured produce he is anxious to bring to market. The best age for a milch cow is betwixt four, or five, and ten. When old, she will give more milk; but it is of an inferior quality, and she is less easily supported."

METHOD OF PREPARING RENNET, AS PRACTISED IN ENGLAND.