It was a period of depression—­there was no confidence, no speculation.  For instance a year or two since the crop of standing wheat then growing on the very field before their eyes was sold by auction, and several lots brought from 16_l_. to 18_l_. per acre.  This year the same wheat would not fetch 8_l_. per acre; and, not satisfied with that price, he had determined to reap and thresh it himself.  It was the same with the shorthorns, with the hay, and indeed with everything except sheep, which had been a mainstay and support to him.

‘Yet even now,’ concluded Cecil, shutting his pocket-book, ’I feel convinced that my plan and my system will be a success.  I can see that I committed one great mistake—­I made all my improvements at once, laid out all my capital, and crippled my self.  I should have done one thing at a time.  I should, as it were, have grown my improvements—­one this year, one next.  As it was, I denuded myself of capital.  Had the times continued favourable it would not have mattered, as my income would have been large.  But the times became adverse before I was firmly settled, and, to be plain, I can but just keep things going without a loan—­dear Bella will not be able to go to the sea this year; but we are both determined not to borrow.’

’In a year or two I am convinced we shall flourish again; but the waiting, Alick, the waiting, is the trial.  You know I am impatient.  Of course, the old-fashioned people, the farmers, all expect me to go through the Bankruptcy Court.  They always said these new-fangled plans would not answer, and now they are sure they were right.  Well, I forgive them their croaking, though most of them have dined at my table and drank my wine.  I forgive them their croaking, for so they were bred up from childhood.  Were I ill-natured, I might even smile at them, for they are failing and leaving their farms by the dozen, which seems a pretty good proof that their antiquated system is at best no better than mine.  But I can see what they cannot see—­signs of improvement.  The steel industry is giving men work; the iron industry is reviving; the mines are slowly coming into work again; America is purchasing of us largely; and when other nations purchase of us, part, at least, of the money always finds its way to the farmer.  Next season, too, the weather may be more propitious.

’I shall hold on, Alick—­a depression is certain to be followed by a rise.  That has been the history of trade and agriculture for generations.  Nothing will ever convince me that it was intended for English agriculturists to go on using wooden ploughs, to wear smock-frocks, and plod round and round in the same old track for ever.  In no other way but by science, by steam, by machinery, by artificial manure, and, in one word, by the exercise of intelligence, can we compete with the world.  It is ridiculous to suppose we can do so by returning to the ignorance and prejudice of our ancestors.  No; we must beat the world by superior intelligence and superior energy.  But intelligence, mind, has ever had every obstacle to contend against.  Look at M. Lesseps and his wonderful Suez Canal.  I tell you that to introduce scientific farming into England, in the face of tradition, custom, and prejudice, is a far harder task than overcoming the desert sand.’