Hodge and His Masters | Page 5

at all. He was simply stopping the road of a better man,
and the sooner he was driven out of the way the better. The neglect of
machinery was most disheartening. A farmer bought one machine,
perhaps a reaping-machine, and then because that solitary article did
not immediately make his fortune he declared that machinery was
useless. Could the force of folly farther go? With machinery they could
do just as they liked. They could compel the earth to yield, and smile at
the most tropical rain, or the most continuous drought. If only the voice
of science had been listened to, there would have been no depression at
all. Even now it was not too late.
Those who were wise would at once set to work to drain, to purchase
artificial manure, and set up steam power, and thereby to provide
themselves with the means of stemming the tide of depression. By
these means they could maintain a head of stock that would be more
than double what was now kept upon equal acreage. He knew full well
one of the objections that would be made against these statements. It
would be said that certain individuals had done all this, had deep
ploughed, had manured, had kept a great head of valuable stock, had
used every resource, and yet had suffered. This was true. He deeply
regretted to say it was true.
But why had they suffered? Not because of the steam, the machinery,
the artificial manure, the improvements they had set on foot; but
because of the folly of their neighbours, of the agricultural class
generally. The great mass of farmers had made no improvements; and,
when the time of distress came, they were beaten down at every point.
It was through these men and their failures that the price of stock and of
produce fell, and that so much stress was put upon the said individuals
through no fault of their own. He would go further, and he would say
that had it not been for the noble efforts of such individuals--the

pioneers of agriculture and its main props and stays--the condition of
farming would have been simply fifty times worse than it was. They,
and they alone, had enabled it to bear up so long against calamity. They
had resources; the agricultural class, as a rule, had none. Those
resources were the manure they had put into the soil, the deep
ploughing they had accomplished, the great head of stock they had got
together, and so on. These enabled them to weather the storm.
The cry for a reduction of rent was an irresistible proof of what he had
put forth--that it was the farmers themselves who were to blame. This
cry was a confession of their own incompetency. If you analysed it--if
you traced the general cry home to particular people--you always found
that those people were incapables. The fact was, farming, as a rule, was
conducted on the hand-to-mouth principle, and the least stress or strain
caused an outcry. He must be forgiven if he seemed to speak with
unusual acerbity. He intended no offence. But it was his duty. In such a
condition of things it would be folly to mince matters, to speak softly
while everything was going to pieces. He repeated, once for all, it was
their own fault. Science could supply the remedy, and science alone; if
they would not call in the aid of science they must suffer, and their
privations must be upon their own heads. Science said, Drain, use
artificial manure, plough deeply, keep the best breed of stock, put
capital into the soil. Call science to their aid, and they might defy the
seasons.
The professor sat down and thrust his hand through his hair. The
president invited discussion. For some few minutes no one rose;
presently, after a whispered conversation with his friend, an elderly
farmer stood up from the forms at the very back of the room. He made
no pretence to rounded periods, but spoke much better than might have
been expected; he had a small piece of paper in his hand, on which he
had made notes as the lecture proceeded.
He said that the lecturer had made out a very good case. He had proved
to demonstration, in the most logical manner, that farmers were fools.
Well, no doubt, all the world agreed with him, for everybody thought
he could teach the farmer. The chemist, the grocer, the baker, the

banker, the wine merchant, the lawyer, the doctor, the clerk, the
mechanic, the merchant, the editor, the printer, the stockbroker, the
colliery owner, the ironmaster, the clergyman, and the Methodist
preacher, the very cabmen and railway porters, policemen, and no
doubt the crossing-sweepers--to use an expressive Americanism, all the
whole "jing-bang"--could teach the