Lord Kames, writing before the time of draining-tile, dislikes open ditches, by reason of their interference with tillage, and does not trust the durability of brush or stone underdrains.  He relies upon ridging, and the proper disposition of open furrows, in the old Greek way.  Turnips he commends without stint, and the Tull system of their culture.  Of clover he thinks as highly as the great English farmer, but does not believe in his notion of economizing seed:  “Idealists,” he says, “talk of four pounds to the acre; but when sown for cutting green, I would advise twenty-four pounds.”  This amount will seem a little startling, I fancy, even to farmers of our day.

He advises strongly the use of oxen in place of horses for all farm-labor; they cost less, keep for less, and sell for more; and he enters into arithmetical calculations to establish his propositions.  He instances Mr. Burke, who ploughs with four oxen at Beaconsfield.  How drolly it sounds to hear the author of “Letters on a Regicide Peace” cited as an authority in practical farming!  He still further urges his ox-working scheme, on grounds of public economy:  it will cheapen food, forbid importation of oats, and reduce wages.  Again, he recommends soiling,[H] by all the arguments which are used, and vainly used, with us.  He shows the worthlessness of manure dropped upon a parched field, compared with the same duly cared for in court or stable; he proposes movable sheds for feeding, and enters into a computation of the weight of green clover which will be consumed in a day by horses, cows, or oxen:  “a horse, ten Dutch stone daily; an ox or cow, eight stone; ten horses, ten oxen, and six cows, two hundred and twenty-eight stone per day,”—­involving constant cartage:  still he is convinced of the profit of the method.

His views on feeding ordinary store cattle, or accustoming them to change of food, are eminently practical.  After speaking of the desirableness of providing a good stock of vegetables, he continues,—­“And yet, after all, how many indolent farmers remain, who for want of spring food are forced to turn their cattle out to grass before it is ready for pasture! which not only starves the cattle, but lays the grass-roots open to be parched by sun and wind.”

Does not this sound as if I had clipped it from the “Country Gentleman” of last week?  And yet it was written ninety-seven years ago, by one of the most accomplished Scotch judges, and in his eightieth year,—­another Varro, packing his luggage for his last voyage.

One great value of Lord Kames’s talk lies in the particularity of his directions:  he does not despise mention of those minutiae a neglect of which makes so many books of agricultural instruction utterly useless.  Thus, in so small a matter as the sowing of clover-seed, he tells how the thumb and finger should be held, for its proper distribution; in stacking, he directs how to bind the thatch; he tells how mown grass should be raked, and how many hours spread;[I] and his directions for the making of clover-hay could not be improved upon this very summer.  “Stir it not the day it is cut.  Turn it in the swath the forenoon of the next day; and in the afternoon put it up in small cocks.  The third day put two cocks into one, enlarging every day the cocks till they are ready for the tramp rick [temporary field-stack].”